Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!

So hello, again, I hope you enjoy this nice long chapter I offer in return for the over three-month wait. Luckily myself, the hubby, and the dogs arrived safely and we are mostly moved completely in. Also, in addition to this chapter, I have another almost done though it is much shorter (consisting of a Death Chat and then Yaxley turn in and some fall out and drama) and should be posted by next weekend. No guarantees on the following chapters though, but I'm hopeful I can go back to a once-a-month type of schedule. We shall see, the world seems to be in constant flux and loves to mock schedules and plans.

Anyway, this chapter is pretty long, and I hope there aren't any dragging parts. Maybe it was just because I read it so repetitively that it started to feel draggy but let me know. I also took some slight liberties on Wizarding World history. Also, apologies but Harry can't have it too easy then it just wouldn't be realistic.

Also, this doesn't involve the chapter but the story as a whole. I was scrolling the various media and saw someone comment on their preferred Enemies to Lovers progression. And I thought that yes, my little oblivious idiots also don't fall under a standard Enemies to Lovers trope but a bit of a more expanded version. This is the progression as I view it, let me know your thoughts. Agree, disagree?

Enemies – Reluctant Allies – Grudging Mutual Respect – Strange but Solid Friendship – Emotional Epiphany – Betrayal/Painful Discovery – Reconciliation with Greater Understanding – Mutual Pining – Lovers

But yeah, I found it amusing. I'm also in a super good mood and a bit rambly. I've got pizza and wine and after this, the hubby and I are going to play some computer games - That was a super tangent - Now, on to the story and I hope you enjoy it! And to quote Hamilton's Thomas Jefferson: "Can we get back to politics?"


Motion Carried

Harry landed on the Warming Charm-covered patio and sighed as the warmth rushed through his cold, flushed skin causing it to tingle. He had a Wizengamot session in about two hours but he had needed to fly first to relieve the stress and nerves that had built up over the past few days. So, waking up early he had taken to the sky and raced across the icy fields and gardens, diving from higher and higher heights. His fingers and face grew numb as the sun slowly inched its way over the horizon bathing the snow-covered grounds in soft pinks and yellows.

He walked to the dining room after handing off his broom to Tobi. Marvolo was already seated and said nothing about Harry's flushed and sweaty state. His eyes tracked Harry's every movement as he poured his tea and loaded his plate. His stomach revolted at the thought of food but Harry forced himself to at least nibble on some bacon and toast. But mainly he focused on drinking the tea infused with Calming Draught, he knew he would need it today.

"Are you feeling prepared?" Marvolo finally asked, setting aside his newspaper.

"Suppose so," Harry said, staring at the bottom of his teacup. But there were no shriveled and soggy tea leaves to read that might predict the outcome of the upcoming meeting. Instead, it was pristine porcelain with a golden pattern that reflected the rim. Harry wondered idly if it was real gold. Probably, he decided.

Marvolo just nodded his head. The past few days had been nothing but strategy meetings with the Inner Circle, prepping for every potential scenario, coming up with appropriate responses, and rehearsing them so much that they came out natural.

"Anything new?" Harry asked, nodding at the paper Marvolo had set aside. He really didn't have the energy to read his own copy.

"Nothing new. Regurgitated news of the attack, more theorizing on myself and my aims spurred on by interviews from Dumbledore. He has been a constant presence the past few days in the papers. Today, there is speculation on whether you shall attend the Wizengamot today and if so, what your reaction will be."

Harry just nodded, absently picking apart his toast. "Do you…" Harry stopped and frowned at his plate of mutilated toast, adding a few more pieces before continuing. "Do you think that I'm as dark and twisted and evil as Dumbledore and some of the others claim?"

"Would it matter?" Marvolo asked, taking a sip of his tea and watching Harry with a tilt to his head.

"Of course, it would matter!" Harry replied harshly, grabbing another piece of toast to tear apart, "I mean it would mean they're right."

"Why are you thinking this way?"

"Well, I mean I haven't actually mourned for my aunt and cousin and technically I am a serial killer now," Harry muttered with a shrug.

Marvolo hummed. "Admittedly you do have a higher body count than I did at your age."

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands to pull at his hair while his elbows rested on the table. "Why am I even bothering talking to you about this?"

"Do not be cross simply because I am not pandering to your internal philosophical crisis. Why would I not be the best to provide assistance on this topic?"

"Because you have a moral compass that is permanently stuck at south."

Marvolo pursed his lips but didn't argue. "Be that as it may if it's worth anything, I believe that considering your intense introspection regarding this topic you are not at risk of becoming evil." Marvolo sneered the word and Harry smirked, surprisingly uplifted by the perspective.

"Thanks," he said softly before giving up on his breakfast and leaving to shower and change.

Harry showered while his thoughts drifted. He still hadn't allowed himself to think about Dudley and Petunia's death and he was still grappling with the fact that he no longer had any living family. Harry wasn't sure if being a Necromancer was affecting his thoughts either. Would he feel more about the loss if he hadn't just spoken to his parents – no matter for how brief a time – just a few months ago and fully intended on speaking with them again after Dumbledore was defeated? Or was he just numb to the thought of death because he was a Child of Death? His body count was far higher than he had ever expected it to be at sixteen – or ever really – and he was by all technicalities a muggle serial killer, no matter how deserving. Harry paused, staring at his reflection above the sink. Was he really changing that much?

Fear and panic swelled in his chest. Harry tried to picture how he would react if it had been the Burrow that was attacked and the Weasleys killed. The sudden rage washed out the panic instantly, which actually relaxed Harry more than he expected. No, he wasn't numb to death. He'd be devastated and a complete wreck if it had been the Weasleys or any of his friends. So he must still be the same person, just more open-minded in how he expressed himself.

Harry grimaced at his reflection. Open-minded? Is that what he was calling it? It tasted bitter on his tongue but Harry didn't feel up to actually naming his slightly altered morals. Besides, his friends knew everything that he was doing and they didn't think he was a monster. He knew Ron and Hermione would set him straight if he ever started to slip towards something unrecognizable. He just had to continue to trust in his friends.

Satisfied, Harry continued getting ready, putting on the robes that Mimsy had laid out. He didn't even bother really looking at them, he had full trust in the elf's choices. Plus, what he would wear had been discussed ad nauseam by Lucius and Avery. His robes were the same fine quality as all the other times he attended the Wizengamot: the darkest black with his House crests displayed as a triangle on his chest and the House colors in a braided blend on the hem. In addition, he now wore a thick, hands-width wide, white band encircling his upper left arm, his aunt and cousin's names embroidered in small, thin golden thread along the bottom edge on the inner arm of the band. It was the traditional symbol for mourning and Harry liked the idea of it, but didn't think he'd wear it for the full month that was required. He gave himself the briefest glance in the mirror before leaving his room. Just as he trusted Mimsy's dress robe choices, he trusted Marvolo to not let him Floo away looking anything less than perfect.

He had to time his arrival just right. It had been a toss-up between arriving early to work the floor and get people onside to continue the vote or arriving at the last moment for shock value, losing political schmoozing time, but with the added benefit of Harry not having to keep up the delicate balance of devastated, grieving teenager and forward-thinking politician for longer than he needed to.

Marvolo eyed him when he entered the office, impeccably perfect and resembling a porcelain statue. "I still believe an earlier arrival would have been better suited for our purposes," he said. Since he didn't comment on his appearance, Harry suspected he looked decent enough.

"And I said that today was already going to be stressful enough, without an additional hour of acting and politics. Remember?" Marvolo released a drawn-out, aggrieved sigh but didn't argue further. He stood from behind his desk and moved closer to Harry by the fireplace. "Can there not be a meeting tonight? Can it be just us instead?" Harry asked softly, staring at the fireplace as he grabbed a fist full of Floo Powder.

"If you wish," Marvolo replied. Harry glanced at the man before ducking his head under the sharp gaze.

"Thanks," Harry whispered.

"It is no hindrance."

Harry nodded. "How mad will you be if I completely butcher this today?" Harry kept his focus on the currently orange flames dancing merrily in the fireplace.

"Completely infuriated," Marvolo replied easily. "However, not with you." Harry glanced at Marvolo in surprise. "Merely at the idiocy of our society to succumb to the mindset of sheep when events prove unpredictable. Nothing that occurs today is unsalvageable, little lion, it is simply that some outcomes require further effort."

Harry grinned briefly. The words were comforting, grounding, and relieved some of the tension in his shoulders. "See you in a couple of hours." Before he could start saying anything more, Harry tossed the Floo Powder and stepped into the flames.

Exiting the Floo in the Ministry Lobby, he took several deep breaths to center himself and prepare for the upcoming hours. Harry had to work this to his favor. He needed to maintain balance in the facade, he needed to cut Dumbledore off at the knees, he needed the school vote to pass and the State of Emergency vote to fail. Taking a final deep breath, Harry arranged his face to look a combination of hesitant and somber. Again something practiced and scrutinized by each of the Inner Circle and Marvolo throughout the past few days.

People noticed him immediately. Harry had hardly taken three steps before people were stopping in their tracks and staring at him. He didn't think he'd even gotten this intense of a reaction for his first Wizengamot session. Then the reactions had been curious tinged with fear, now they were full of pity and morbid curiosity. It all made Harry's skin crawl, but he refused to let it show. At least he had the benefit of apparently being in mourning, he didn't need to be nodding and smiling and greeting everyone. Instead, Harry kept his focus ahead and walked quickly, chin held high like he was trying to put on some act. Which had been a strange concept when Avery and Nott explained it to him. He had to act like he was acting like he was trying to hold it all together by a thread.

There were a few who approached him, scurrying up to shake his hand or pat his shoulder and offering their condolences. He accepted them all with a slow nod and dull eyes. One or two yelled condemnations for his showing up today but they were faceless voices in the crowd. Most of the crowd just stopped, stared, whispered and pointed. It was Hogwarts all over again. Did people ever grow up? Harry entered the elevator alone and had a moment of peace before the doors opened on the Wizengamot floor.

There was a short hallway between the elevator doors and the double doors leading to the Wizengamot. The doors were currently closed, the meeting just about to start, and Harry took a small pint of satisfaction in releasing his magic to open the doors well in advance of his entrance. He felt very much like a showman at that moment. He swallowed back the grin that threatened to disrupt his whole facade.

The doors slammed open, and all activity froze. Harry took in the scene, most had already taken their seats, but some were still standing, obviously chatting as they meandered towards their seats. Dumbledore and Fudge already sat in their specified seats. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Harry entered the courtroom and stopped, teetering on the edge of the courtroom floor as though uncertain if he should – or could – continue. He flicked his gaze over the countless faces, many of them he'd spoken with countless times but there were still just as many he couldn't recognize. Harry took a visible deep breath, tilted his chin up a little higher, straightened his back, and then began walking forward. His footsteps echoed in the large, high-ceiling chamber.

The game was on and his performance had to be perfect. From now until he rejoined Marvolo, he had to clear his mind and focus on the present moment, focus on every facial expression and every word spoken.

Tiberius was the first to move. He had been halfway to his seat, but he turned to walk back towards Harry. His eyes concerned and his smile gentle, his arms open. He embraced Harry once he drew closer. It was a brief embrace, but Harry took comfort in it. Amelia, Augusta, and Sylvia appeared behind Tiberius, and each gave him brief squeezes of comfort and reassurance. Tiberius moving had broken the spell on the court though and it had been buzzing with whispers ever since, reaching an uproar. Dumbledore had to try several times to call the court to order.

"Everyone, if we could please settle down, yes, settle down. Thank you. As thrilled as we all are to see our youngest member appear especially during this time of intense grief, we must continue with our meeting. Please, everyone, take your seats. And Harry, please allow me to provide my deepest condolences for the loss of your family. I know how hard that is to bear. It is admirable that you chose to attend today's session."

Harry tilted his head at Dumbledore, pausing in his allowance of Amelia and Tiberius to guide him towards the Neutral Faction seating. A wave of anger swept through him at the sheer audacity the old man displayed and Harry struggled to not sneer or spit in the man's face. "It is Lord Potter-Black-Peverel, Chief Warlock. The loss of family has not diminished my titles." Harry made sure to speak evenly, measured, and careful, not monotone but obviously controlled. "And I consider it an honor to my family that I attend and see through the legislation that I'm certain my aunt would have whole-heartedly supported." Supported because it meant he would be out of the house and away from her normal family, even more, Harry added mentally.

Harry turned abruptly from Dumbledore and continued up the stairs to his seat. The act was hard to balance. Had he been too cold? Not cold enough? He'd brought up both his loss and his law that was meant to pass, as a subconscious nudge at the other members. But had he done it well enough? Was it too heavy-handed? Could they tell his grief wasn't genuine?

Sinking into the high-backed chair with its cushioning charms, Harry sighed heavily. Hopefully most would attribute this to his grief, but Harry was already done with the day. He just wanted to go home, he didn't want to play politics or match wits with Dumbledore in front of an audience.

"So commences our fifth session of the congressional year and the first in our new year," Dumbledore said amicably, his grandfatherly smile and blue eyes twinkling. Harry wanted to hex his stupid face. "Before we reach the items on the agenda today, I wish to push forth something that I believe that given the recent news is of greatest importance. Given the recent attack, I put forth the request for the good witches and wizards of the Wizengamot to make a motion for placing the Wizarding World of the United Kingdom under a State of Emergency."

And there it was, Harry thought with trepidation. He licked his dry lips and glanced around, there were a great many nodding, not just among the court but in the audience as well.

"I motion to put forward the vote of a State of Emergency," a man said standing up from his place on the Most Ancient and Noble tier in the Light Faction. From this angle, Harry couldn't determine who it was but he was a tall man, thin with blonde hair.

"Seconded," Lord Macmillan said, standing as well. Only a few seats down from the first man. Dumbledore let a bang sound from his wand.

"Motion carried. It is now on the floor for debate and vote. I hardly believe this needs to be asked, but are there any who oppose the decree?"

There was silence among the crowd before Harry raised his hand.

"Lord Potter," Fudged spluttered in shock. "How can you oppose such a statement?"

Harry stood slowly from his seat and waited until everyone was looking at him. "I have a few reasons, Minister. Chief Warlock, may I have the floor to present my case."

"The floor is yours, Lord Potter-Black-Peverell." Harry nodded and walked down the tiers to reach the Speaker Platform. Would he ever attend a Wizengamot session where he would not have to go to the Speaker Platform? Harry thought dryly.

Standing on the stage, Harry didn't speak immediately. Instead, he molded his face into a thoughtful, concerned frown. Lips pursed and brow slightly furrowed, Harry looked at the wooden platform floor for a few moments. Before he could speak though voices shouted out at him.

"He's behind it all, he just doesn't want punishment!" "This proves it, Potter really is Dark." "He supports the Dark Lord." "Check his arms, he's a Death Eater!"

Harry frowned at the audience, for that was where the shouts had come from, annoyed that they had disrupted his moment. "Disagreement does not equal support and I would never condone the mass murder of anyone."

"Murderer! You kill muggles nightly!"

"I have in the past taken the lives of muggles," Harry admitted coldly. "I have never hidden nor denied the tasks that Death ordered me. I have spoken openly about the muggles that I have had to kill. Never once have I lied about my sins. However, I had nothing to do with the events of a few nights ago. Do not accuse me of murdering the last of my family again," Harry bit out sharply, his words ringing in the air. He waited a moment before turning to face the Wizengamot again.

"Perhaps, Lord Potter-Black-Peverell, to alleviate further concern, you can tell the court where you were that night," Dumbledore offered with an amicable smile.

"I was unaware that I was standing trial, Chief Warlock," Harry said shortly with a hard look at the old man, who met his glare with a steady gaze. The Minister shifted uneasily from his raised chair next to Dumbledore. The mousy scribe was scribbling frantically, her eyes darting between Harry and Dumbledore. "However, I was in a pre-scheduled Necromantic engagement. That night I was helping a family reunite with family members who have passed on."

Dumbledore's mouth twisted in a tight smile. "How nice of you. What family?"

Harry stared up at Dumbledore and tried to figure out the man's game. What did any of this matter? He couldn't see where Dumbledore was going and so continued with growing trepidation. "Necromancer-Client confidentiality, I'm afraid," Harry said with obviously forced levity, refusing to glance away from Dumbledore. "If the family in question wishes to speak about the experience, they may. I however don't have that liberty." Dumbledore opened his mouth and unwilling and not wanting to find out what Dumbledore's latest manipulations were, Harry cut him off. "Now, can we get back to the matter at hand? I don't understand why my actions are up for debate, aside from my decision to vote against implementing the State of Emergency."

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore said with a small chuckle. "Merely helping you to clear your name from those who would wish to disparage it."

Like you, you fucking hypocrite! Harry thought with a rising fury he had to fight to keep in check. Not the time, not the time, not the time, he chanted mentally. Gritting his teeth, he just nodded and turned back to the Court. He took a deep breath, quickly trying to reorganize his thoughts. Everything already felt like it had gotten away from him and he was feeling a seed of desperation sprouting in his chest in his wish to regain the upper hand and control.

"I know it is shocking to see me opposed to this motion," he said slowly as though trying to choose his words carefully. Even though he'd practiced variations of this same speech countless times in the past few days. "Though I am curious as to why the State of Emergency was not declared when Voldemort was spotted in this very Ministry's Atrium only last June, it is touching how concerned the good Lords and Ladies are over the wellbeing of a muggle neighborhood. However, over this past year and through the assistance of my Inheritance and my conversations with Death, I have had to learn to separate emotions from actions. It is not always possible to accomplish but in times of crisis, it is necessary."

Harry fell silent and licked his lips, hands clasped behind him. He didn't pace along the Platform like he so desperately wished to do nor did he tug at his hair or fidget with his sleeves. He stood tall and still. Malfoy, Avery, and Nott had insisted that this posture would best convey what they wished: a young man in mourning but striving to do right, despite opposition. Fidgeting and pacing would detract from what he said and make him appear manic and frantic, possibly even rehearsed –which it was but Harry couldn't make it seem like that. Snape and Rodolphous had helped him practice this pose until he could hold it without thought.

He also couldn't outright say that Voldemort had nothing to do with the attack because then people would want to know how he knew that and he couldn't give a valid answer. Harry had argued that he could just say he contacted his aunt and cousin beyond the grave and they saw an old man out their window before they died but Marvolo had countered that Harry had said it took a week after death before he could contact that person – well he hadn't told everyone, but enough that it would get tricky – and it wouldn't work to get trapped in a lie. Merlin, he was already so tired.

"A State of Emergency is a superficial fix to a deep, festering issue. It is inaction hidden by pretty words. It would solve the immediate problem of soothing the public's worry and concern over future attacks, however, it would be detrimental in the long run. Over the–" Harry paused and took another deep breath, looking at the ground briefly as if just the thought of the past few days was painful " –over the past few days, I investigated previous instances where a State of Emergency was enacted. I admit, my reasons were selfish. My first thought was the same as yours, a State of Emergency seemed logical, the best response. Admittedly, I used the research as a distraction as well," Harry added softly, swallowing hard. Behind his back, hidden by his robes, he pinched the top of his hand as hard as he could to bring tears to his eyes. It didn't hurt enough for tears to fall but Parkinson and Nott assured him that it gave his eyes the appropriate glassy look.

The entire courtroom was still; silent as they listened to his words. He didn't shout, but he did speak evenly. Consciously making sure his words weren't rushed and his pace was steady. He'd had their attention every other time he spoke on the Platform, during all of the other sessions, but it had never been like this. Harry hadn't truly felt the gravity of holding an entire congregation's attention, hadn't understood the power his words held. It was terrifying and thrilling in equal measures.

"However, the research did not soothe my concern. In the past, when a State of Emergency was called the Wizarding World ground to a halt. All progress was suspended and it took years for the community to return to their previous standing." Harry hadn't actually done any of the research, but the Lestrange brothers, Avery, Nott, Parkinson, Malfoy, and Greengrass had given him a brief overview. "And this is not what we as a community should want. If anything, allowing our own progression and advancement to be put on pause would only benefit those who seek to weaken and destroy us. If we halt our chances to pass new legislation, then even if the populace is satisfied and calmed, they will be harmed through our inaction. And yes, I want to see those who killed my family, who brought this devastation, brought to justice," Harry said, letting some bitter anger drip into his voice. He even managed a voice crack on the word 'justice'. He blinked rapidly as though trying to regain control and tilted his head to look up at the ceiling as though willing tears away. "We need to take this tragedy and use it to push us further, to strive for unity and progression, because otherwise, we've lost the fight before it began." Harry fell silent and watched the Wizengamot nervously and tried not to shift on his feet.

The same thin, blonde-haired man who had first made the motion after Dumbledore suggested stood then. "This is all very moving, Lord Potter," the man began pompously. "However, forgive me if I question the statistics of an emotionally impaired teenager. What instances did a State of Emergency hinder us?"

Harry really wished he knew what that man's name was but he'd find out later. "A State of Emergency has only ever been called four times," Harry replied, keeping his voice even, though it was a struggle he wanted to snark and yell at the people before him, sadly that wouldn't help anything – though it would certainly relieve the tension building in his shoulders. "The first was in the fourteenth century, during the witch burnings. This is when Great Britain enacted its own version of the Statute of Secrecy. The second was in 1692 during the Salem Witch Trials and our community as a whole enacted the next Statute of Secrecy, an International Statue, as a preventative measure. The third was during the 1940s, when Grindlewald began his reign of terror, and then finally, less than twenty years ago when Voldemort first rose. All four times a State of Emergency was called progress in our world was halted."

Marvolo had cackled that if things didn't work the way they wished, he'd still add another title to his name. The only man in history to cause a State of Emergency twice.

A woman from the Dark Faction stood. She was plump with a stern frown on her face, holding her chin high as though she smelt something terrible. "I have to wonder if Lord Potter is only pushing for this so that he can have his precious school vote. Is he putting his own desires and ambitions ahead of the good of our community?"

Harry took a breath. "It's true, I wish for my school vote to continue on schedule," Harry admitted honestly. The woman sniffed and raised an eyebrow at him. "However, I would still have these same beliefs, whether my legislation was on the line or not. If anything, the school will only further help push us into a more progressive age. The unity and community that the school will foster will hopefully help prevent further divides from sprouting in our world. So yes, I have additional motivations. But, many would argue I have motivations for approving the State vote as well." The woman's mouth thinned but she didn't deny the statement. "But like I said, over this past year, since my Inheritance, my outlook, and perspective have changed." Here Harry closed his eyes as though he were reciting something he'd memorized and tried to commit to memory. "Death is not emotional. Death is impartial. So I in turn must be impartial."

"You mean to say you didn't grieve for your family?" The woman countered. Harry opened his eyes and clenched his teeth. The woman swallowed and shifted her feet under his gaze.

"I'm not saying that at all," Harry said as evenly as he could, his fists tightening under his robes. "I'm saying emotions shouldn't dictate and control such far-reaching actions. The fear and anguish we feel," Harry insisted, pausing to take a breath and closing his eyes hard as though he were barely managing his own control, "we should harness that to prove that we can do better and be better, not use it to hide behind and justify our inaction."

Harry took another deep breath. He really felt like he was just repeating himself now but he didn't know how to relinquish the Platform without it looking like he was running away or turning timid, neither of which helped his case. Of all the training and practice, they hadn't covered this part. Why did he ask to stand on the Platform again? Was he doing this well enough? Was he getting through to people or was he just the idiot ranting? Was he pushing too hard? Was he not acting mournful enough? The anxiety twisted his stomach and he swallowed hard again.

"It is obvious that you feel passionate about this," Dumbledore began, his tone a bit condescending and patronizing and Harry half expected him to reach out and pat his head. "However, while your hope and idealism is very refreshing, all of us in this room have experienced the previous war. We know the hardships and the terror a bit more intimately than you do, dear boy."

"I am well aware of the atrocities committed," Harry said harshly, his temper snapping.

Harry knew the hardships. He knew the terror and the fear that Voldemort inspired. He knew them both intimately; had known them since he was a toddler. The fear and hardships had shifted as he grew and encountered new experiences, but he was highly aware.

For Dumbledore to be so dismissive of all that Harry had experienced and suffered when the man knew! He knew better than most, the trauma and pain Harry had endured. For him to belittle him in front of the entire Wizengamot... The rage burned in him. Harry wanted to scream; wanted to punch the man so hard those damn half-moon glasses cracked and his nose broken beyond repair. Harry wanted to Claim him right now, before the entire wizarding world. Summon the dead and suck the life right out of Albus fucking Dumbledore. Harry wanted to hear the screams and strip the Life from him. Harry wanted to draw out the pain and the misery. He wanted to break the old man. Break him, reduce him to blood and tears.

He felt the icy fire tickling his skin and his rage burned hotter in his core. His only regret was that Marvolo wouldn't be able to watch, wouldn't be able to enjoy the satisfaction of seeing Dumbledore ended. Marvolo would be furious of course. Harry knew that Marvolo wished to torture the old man himself before Harry Claimed him. But all would be forgiven because Dumbledore would be dead. An icy chill brushed the back of his neck and Harry sucked in a breath. No, he couldn't do it now, couldn't deprive Marvolo of that long-awaited closure. Harry sucked in another breath and blinked. The icy fire melted back under his skin and he lost sight of the Life auras that had appeared around the members of the court.

He stood in the center of the Platform, all eyes on him, panting lightly. Luckily, Harry didn't see any glazed eyes that indicated his magic had reached them. Hermione had described it as being equivalent to being high, or at least what she'd read about the experience. So, the fact that his magic hadn't slipped out into the crowd was one small mercy. Instead the Court probably just saw an emotional teenager losing his temper. Also, not ideal.

Harry closed his eyes once more, gathered himself, and then reopened his eyes to look up at Dumbledore who was watching him with a keen eye and a triumphant twinkle. "I am aware of the atrocities, Chief Wizard," Harry repeated, far calmer, "better than most. Yet I still argue that this will only be playing into the opposition's hands, putting our world in a standstill will only prove detrimental and make it easier for ourselves to be open to attack."

"Opposition?" a woman in the Light Faction scoffed, but she didn't stand and Harry couldn't see much of her. "Just call them the Dark, Lord Potter."

"I'd rather not use such a generalized, inaccurate term. Seeing as I am Dark and I don't wish to see our society frozen." Harry was trying to do minimal lying so that when it came out that it was Dumbledore after Yaxley's testimony he wouldn't be perceived negatively. It was a vague term but it was accurate, plus it allowed people to draw their own conclusions.

"Lord Potter, it is admirable of you to set aside your personal feelings on the matter in an attempt to seek a better future for our world," Fudge began hesitantly, flicking his gaze between Harry and Dumbledore. "However, we need a State of Emergency. It will prevent the dementors and other Dark Creatures from joining You Know Who's forces. We initiated it too late during the last war and they had all but a few joined his side before it was too late."

"Oh, we don't need to worry about the dementors," Harry said easily. "Voldemort doesn't control them."

Fudge gave him a pained smile. "Your faith in the Ministry is heartwarming, Lord Potter. But it is a grave concern on our part."

Harry frowned and shifted as though uneasy. "Um…you're welcome, Minister, but I didn't mean it like that. I meant that Voldemort doesn't control the Dementors, but neither does the Ministry." Harry glanced at the assembled Court and audience with a slight frown as if he was surprised that no one else was aware of this information. "I do."

Harry didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed at the uproar that statement caused. Some of the Death Eaters looked surprised at this news. He shifted on his feet as the crowd shouted. He raised a hand to finger the white armband as though absentmindedly as if he were nervous at the uproar and was using the band to help relieve his anxiety. He had to rebuild his image after losing his temper and he hoped the calculated move would gain him sympathy points.

Dumbledore fired off a series of bangs to regain silence. Though Harry thought he had certainly taken his time about it. It had been about five minutes of shouting before Dumbledore decided to intervene. Harry glanced at the Headmaster to find the man returning his look, those blue eyes might as well have been chips of ice.

"Lord Potter, what is this arrogance?" Lord Brown bolstered, standing up from his seat to sneer down at him. "We are well aware of your numerous titles, but Dementors don't care for Lordships or age. You are not invincible, you can't control Dementors. It is well known that the Ministry is barely able to manage them as it is."

"It's not arrogance," Harry replied coldly. "Dementors and Thestrals are creatures of Death and so fall under my domain. They won't act against my orders and seeing as I don't wish to have a war or a State of Emergency, you can be assured that they won't be used for any nefarious purposes."

There were murmurings among the Court and the guests and Harry observed this all silently as he stood on the Speaker Platform. He wondered if this would be a swaying factor for any of the members. He also wondered how to draw the attention back to the issue at hand. Should he push for a vote to be called now? Had he said enough? Should he say anything else? Had he already lost favor with his temper? How did he want to handle this now?

"What of the vampires? The werewolves? Do you control them as well?" A wheezing man in the Dark Faction asked. He was plump and balding seated on the Noble House tier and Harry didn't recognize him, but he did look vaguely familiar, so maybe he had relatives among the Death Eaters.

"Vampires are Creatures of the Night, not Death. Likewise, werewolves are Creatures of the Moon, again not Death. However, to my understanding, they each hold a degree of respect for Necromancers. I can speak with them, but it isn't a guarantee."

"Would you be willing to speak with them, Lord Potter?" Fudge asked suddenly.

Harry blinked and looked up at the Minister with blatant, genuine surprise. "Sir?"

Fudge looked at the Court, as if to gauge their support before he looked back at Harry. "I believe, Lord Potter, that many of us would feel more comfortable, safer even, if we knew that you had spoken on our behalf with the Dark Creatures, those you control and don't. It is obvious that you are against a State of Emergency and thus against You Know Who and his machinations. If you are able to gain their neutrality or their support, then I'm sure the Court would feel more lenient in deciding against initiating a State of Emergency."

"Of course, yes, I'd be willing to speak to them," Harry said, stunned. Could this really be happening? Was this what would convince everyone? He had already been planning to talk to the Dark Creatures anyway on Death's orders. He wanted to grin and laugh with giddy disbelief. Would luck be on his side?

"How wonderful," Dumbledore said with a stiff smile. "Now, given that this seems to be the caveat that many will need to determine their voting. I believe that it is necessary to postpone the voting on this matter until our next session. All in favor?"

There was a resounding statement of affirmation and Harry wanted to grin broadly at his win. Instead, he gave a short bow to the Court to signify his relinquishing of the Speaker Platform and strode back to his seat.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, amicably, "I also believe that it is best for us to adjourn todays' session until further information is provided. I hardly think it necessary for the Court to deliberate on issues that may or not be of consequence during our next session."

"Wait," Harry said, standing from his seat in shock. "I don't believe waiting for information on one vote should hinder the voting of the rest. Those aren't mutually exclusive actions."

"Well, of course, they are," Fudge said with a light chuckle. "There is no point in voting on laws if in the next meeting a State of Emergency is called and the items voted on are no longer in effect. Why vote for something if they may not even be put into use?"

Harry frowned. That was ridiculously stupid logic and he was tempted to reply rudely but he couldn't alienate the Minister. Not yet anyway, his favor was still beneficial to Harry's goals. So instead, he adopted a rather innocently, curious tone and tilted his head with a frown. "With that thought process, Minister, what would ever be the point of voting on any laws? One could argue that every potential upcoming session will host a State of Emergency vote, rendering the laws voted on in the present irrelevant."

"Now, my boy, if we think too deeply on hypotheticals, it will just lead us down one rabbit hole after another," Dumbledore said with convincing sympathy. "The Court understands that you wish your school vote to occur today, however, there is no reason why it cannot be delayed until the next session. Unless you mean to say that a school for children will no longer be necessary if the vote is delayed?"

Harry grit his teeth. "It is Lord Potter-Black-Peverell. And no, that is not what I'm insinuating at all. I'm –"

"Splendid, then there is no reason why we cannot wait on the voting for everything all at once during our next session," Dumbledore said smoothly over his words.

Oh, Harry hated this man. Hated him with such a fiery passion that Harry was surprised the man hadn't caught flame. There was a thought, Harry mused in his irritation. He had set Bellatrix on fire, maybe he could do the same for Dumbledore. Set those atrocious, vibrant robes on fire and burn them all to ash and then shave that stupid beard off his stupid face. Harry clenched his fists, unable to think of anything to say. If he continued arguing he would come off as childish and antagonistic and like a spoiled brat whining about not getting his way. Harry was well aware that there were many on the Wizengamot who disliked him for the way he managed the floor when he argued his cases. They called him a showman and excessive and abrasive. Harry didn't want to prove the naysayers right and he didn't want to lose the prestige he held in the eyes of others. He still needed the support of the Court and the Wizarding World. He could manage without it but it would make everything so much harder and Harry already had enough to deal with without making things purposefully hard. Jaw clenched and hands in fists, Harry sat back down stiffly in his chair.

Dumbeldore was good, Harry would begrudgingly give him that. It wasn't a surprise that Dumbledore had held the Wizarding World under his thumb for so long.

Seeing no argument from Harry, Dumbledore looked over the rest of the Court and no one spoke up. "Well then, the session is adjourned; awaiting a response from the Dark Creatures via Lord Potter-Black-Peverell." The members of the Wizengamot stood up almost immediately but Harry remained sitting.

"Come now, Harry," Tiberius said after much of the Court had already left their seats. Harry stared up at the man blankly and allowed Tiberius to hook his arm under Harry's and haul him to his feet. Harry felt strangely numb. He'd won but he'd lost and the whole situation tasted bitter on his tongue. "I know you didn't get your school vote, but – and as much as I hate to say it – Dumbledore is right in that the school can still happen, it just won't happen as immediately as you wish. Patience, Harry. There is still time, years in fact. We'll adjust our plans and jump right back into it. Don't let one loss get you down."

"Tiberius is right, Harry," Amelia said as she walked on Harry's other side. "I believe you handled the situation very well despite your emotional state. Not many adults could have held themselves so maturely after such a loss."

Harry just nodded.

"Will you be joining us for lunch, Harry?" Seth asked, eyeing him with concern.

The rest of the Neutral Faction had huddled around him, blocking him from the view of the guests and reporters. Surprisingly it didn't seem as though many of the Lords and Ladies were staying behind to mingle like they usually did. Or maybe more time had passed and Harry just hadn't realized it. Looking around, Harry did notice the Wizengamot Death Eaters, each watching him subtly as they huddled in a group near the doors. Lord Greengrass caught his eye and Harry gave a slight nod. Nott, Avery, Malfoy, Greengrass, Parkinson all gave dips of their heads while the lesser Death Eaters gave deeper nods before they started leaving in groups of two or three. Harry thought it was a bit ridiculous that the Death Eaters had taken to waiting on his signal to leave, it was going to get pretty obvious soon. It was lucky that the Court was almost completely empty now. He would have to talk to Marvolo about that.

"Yes, I'll join you," Harry said softly. He really didn't want to. He wanted to go home, curl up in the library, and rant with Marvolo over a cup of tea but he knew he needed to put in appearances.

"We would understand if you didn't, Harry," Madeline Brocklehurst said tentatively. Harry looked at her coldly. He still hadn't forgotten she had spoken so terribly about Dark Creatures.

"No, I think it would be good to get out of the house. Court today was hardly a relaxing venture," he said bitterly.

Seth snorted in agreement. "That's true enough, can't say I expected how it all went down though. I really thought you and Dumbledore would be in agreement today."

Tiberius gave Harry a nudge and Harry started walking, moving away from the mans' assisting hand. "Yes, well it is like I said. Death is impartial and as Death's Child I too must be impartial."

"It is unfortunate about your school," Madeline said, looking at Harry with wide, hopeful eyes. Harry wanted to sneer at her. It was obvious she was hoping to reingratiate herself into his favor. Maybe she thought three months had been enough time to be in the proverbial doghouse for calling him and other creatures filthy and inhuman. Harry didn't bother to tell her that it would take more than simpering panderings to make up for that comment.

"Why had you not spoken with the Dementors previously if you can control them?" Evangeline asked suddenly, her lips pursed and her hair pulled back tightly just like it always was.

"Just because I have power over them doesn't make me want to interact with them," Harry replied coldly. "Do you enjoy having conversations with Dementors?"

Evangeline sniffed and looked away. "Now, now," Tiberius admonished gently, giving Harry a pointed look. "No need to let tempers get the best of us."

Harry ducked his head under Tiberius's look and sighed. "You're right, Tiberius. That was uncalled for. I'm feeling rather raw right now but that is no excuse for rudeness, my apologies Evangeline."

The woman looked at him shrewdly before giving a stiff nod. Harry was already regretting his decision to go for lunch but he allowed himself to be dragged along and Apparated to Hogsmeade with the others. Amelia had eyed him sharply once he arrived with a disappointed look. "Just for today, I'll overlook your Apparating without a license. However, I expect you to obtain one at the earliest opportunity." Harry flushed in embarrassment and nodded.

Little more was said as the group took their seats at their standard table, and ordered wine, appetizers, and entrées. Chatter was lighthearted and frivolous and Harry didn't contribute much. It was lucky that no one seemed to expect him to participate and Harry clung to his 'in mourning' excuse tightly.

Lunch ended and Harry Flooed to Marvolo's office through the Three Broomsticks. Marvolo was alone in his office and stood when Harry stumbled in. Harry gripped the sofa armrest and looked up at Marvolo in defeat, allowing the bitter numbness to swell within him.

Marvolo sighed and strode towards him. Unthinking, and in a moment of masochistic weakness, Harry let go of the armrest and leaned into Marvolo once he stood close enough, his head resting against Marvolo's firm chest. He breathed in the scent of spice and parchment, allowing it to calm him. It took a few moments of surprised silence before Harry felt an awkward pat on his head and he grinned down at his feet.

"He shall die," Marvolo finally said after giving up on patting Harry's head.

Harry sighed and pulled away to stare up at Marvolo. "Yes. In the most excruciatingly painful, bloody, ways possible."

"I have compiled a list of the methods in which I wish to torture the man. You may look it over if you wish."

Harry smirked and shook his head tiredly. "I won and I lost and I just want to scream. I mean I should be happy that I at least postponed the State of Emergency and the vote is contingent on a meeting that I had already planned to do anyway. And by the time the vote comes around Dumbledore will be behind bars with Yaxley's testimony. So it really doesn't matter. And yeah, I guess the delay in my school isn't really the end of the world. But I feel like I should have done something more, shut him down or humiliated him or something." Harry groaned and tugged at his hair, moving away from Marvolo to pace the office carpet. Marvolo returned to his chair behind his desk and watched Harry over steepled fingers.

"It was a stalemate," Marvolo agreed. "It is preferable, yes, to have a definitive win or loss, easier to plan and accommodate. A stalemate is much like a consolation prize."

"Yes," Harry exclaimed, looking at Marvolo with relief at putting words to his conflicting emotions. "Yes, I feel like a failure but technically speaking I didn't actually fail but that just makes it feel worse because it's a technicality."

"It is as I said before, little lion. There are no true losses. Everything is salvageable."

"I certainly didn't decimate him with my words like I'm sure you wanted."

"You delayed him. It was a decimation without words. The best kind," Marvolo replied easily and Harry grinned softly at Marvolo working to make him feel better. "Go ahead and begin construction of the school. I assure you that once the Dark wins, it will be one of the first laws that I pass, regardless of what the Wizengamot wishes."

"Will you even keep the Wizengamot after you win?"

"Once we win, little lion," Marvolo said with smug satisfaction.

Harry felt his face heating up and brushed off the reaction with a tight laugh and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Will you keep it?"

Marvolo looked at him thoughtfully. "Yes, I believe I will. Having the facade of ownership and self-independence does wonders for a populaces' morale. Begin construction, Harry, it can all progress as planned."

Harry sighed but nodded. "I almost lost control today. I was so tempted to Claim him," he whispered, not meeting Marvolo's eye and staring at his feet as they tread the familiar path on the carpet.

"I noticed," Marvolo replied. Harry nodded. He had assumed Marvolo would have picked up on it when he reviewed the event. "It is fortunate that you did not."

Harry grunted. "Suppose. Taking down his reputation is taking longer than I thought it would though. I'd hoped he'd be a miserable, humiliated, fool with no leadership footholes to his name by now."

"The cracks have festered and grown, be sure of that. Yaxley's testimony will be the final nail on the head. You will see results soon enough."

"When are we dropping him off?"

"In a few days, he still requires healing."

Harry frowned. "He was almost fully healed yesterday."

Marvolo hummed lightly in response. "It is hard to ignore such the call of such a willing volunteer, especially during moments of heightened stress. Today I found myself needing to test a few spells."

Unable to help himself, Harry laughed, his numb bitterness fading. Marvolo watched him with bright eyes and a hungry look that caused Harry's stomach to tighten and his breath to catch. Clearing his throat roughly, Harry tugged at his hair as he resumed pacing. "Um…so do you want to start on those Hindi Runes this afternoon?"

"I would be delighted. Prior to that, however, I must finalize the letters requesting meetings with the Vampires and Veelas first."

"Not the werewolves?"

"Fenrir is in constant correspondence. I hardly need to schedule a formal meeting," Marvolo said, looking back at his desk and shuffling his papers before selecting the ones he needed. "I'll need your signature alongside mine if we are to send these in a joint demonstration of our alliance."

Harry swallowed back the wave of jealousy that burned in his gut at the thought of Fenrir's numerous letters. "Right. Well, I suppose I should send out a notice to the Dementors too. I'm going to get changed, I'll be back."

Marvolo made an acknowledging noise but his focus was on the papers in front of him. Silently, Harry slipped out of the office. The day wasn't over yet. And despite the unsatisfying result of the Wizengamot, the work was not done. This was but a small hiccup in their plans. Dumbledore had only delayed the inevitable.