"Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds." Bhagavad Gita
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Harry had dressed in formal robes along with Ron and Hermione, who stood close to him, waiting outside the Wizengamot entrance doors. He couldn't help the slight edge of anxiety that crept in as he looked around the Ministry building.
Hermione's hand slipped into his and squeezed and he looked over at her and nodded, taking a deep breath. He could do this. The attendants opened the doors, and they made their way inside, and it felt like everyone's eyes were on them as they sat near the front of the open court.
The Malfoy family sat near the front, each of them stone faced and staring straight ahead. Lucius Malfoy's face had visibly aged, and he looked thin and haggard after his stint in Azkaban. Beyond him on the raised platform overseeing the proceedings sat Kingsley Shacklebolt with his hands steepled together as he regarded the Malfoys and the Wizengamot witches and wizards in their ridiculous puce garb.
He glanced to the side and met Hermione's eyes and could tell, as he often could, that their thoughts were running along parallel tracks and he rolled his eyes at her and she gave a small smile. Maybe it was because they both had been raised as muggles, but from the outside looking into Wizarding Society, some of the stranger traditions became all the more ridiculous.
"Chief Warlock. Witches and Wizards of the Wizengamot. Today, we are here to listen to the serious and egregious allegations against the Malfoy family. Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy have all pleaded innocent of charges due to the influence of the imperious and threat of death by he who must not be named."
Harry's jaw tightened, and he heard Hermione's soft scoff next to him. What followed in the next three hours reminded him of a gross parody of his own time facing charges in front of the Wizengamot.
Whereas he barely escaped punishment for justified self defense, the Malfoys seemed set to do the same against their more serious charges and actions.
The panel of jurors seemed barely to pause as they handed down the sentencing. "We find the Malfoys innocent due to the threats by he who must not be named. For certain minor dark acts and damage reparations, they will pay the Ministry a fine of one million galleons."
It was like a punch in the gut. His magic–even more unstable after Voldemort's death bucked inside him and wind whistled through the chamber. The witches and wizards looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the magic and, with a quick glance at him, Hermione abruptly stood.
"It's absolutely ridiculous they are getting away with just a fine! They are rich! You might as well hand them a get out of jail free card! They stood by and watched while I WAS TORTURED!"
Everyone's attention fixed on Hermione and Shacklebolt slammed his gavel down. "Miss Granger, you will control yourself in my courtroom!"
Harry gritted his teeth as he heard the whispers start behind them, uncaring that they could hear them. He didn't know how Ron put up with it… if he was with her…
Muggleborns can't really control themselves, you know…
How old is she and she can't control herself?
Did you hear she's trying to join the Ministry? What a joke…
He imagined it for a second, razing this entire circus to the ground. They wanted to make excuses for people committing 'minor dark acts'? He'd show them dark acts, and he wouldn't be going after children. He'd go after these incompetent corrupt institutions that enabled wizards like Voldemort with their weaknesses.
He looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder and met Hermione's compassionate brown eyes. He stood up wordlessly, and she followed him out.
No.
Better to never have those thoughts. If he went down that path… The first person standing in his way would be her. She was so righteous and reverent of rules, she would feel she had to stop him.
As soon as they exited the doors, Hermione flung her hands around him, hugging him tight, and he hugged her back just as tight. Although she had never had trouble breaking the rules for him when he needed it.
"What are you two doing? Hermione, you can't lose your temper like that. Everyone could feel your magic–it was like when a kid has accidental magic."
Ron's voice broke the moment, and Harry pulled back. He hadn't even noticed Ron following. Harry had been too focused on the battle he was fighting internally. And on Hermione.
"It was-"
"I was upset, Ron. Weren't you?"
Harry looked at Hermione as she cut him off, protecting him again. He reveled in her care and at the same time; it made him angry. He looked away from the two of them as they started squabbling, as usual.
After waiting several minutes, he got tired of their argument. He just wanted to be alone. "I'll see you both around, okay? I'm off."
That got their attention. Immediately, both their heads whipped in his direction.
"Harry, no, you shouldn't be alone."
"I thought you were coming back to the Burrow, mate."
Harry shoved his hands into his robe pockets. "I'm going to walk to Grimmauld–alone." He finished his sentence firmly as they opened their mouths to object.
With a short nod, he walked off, leaving them there. Honestly, they were better off without him right now. He got into the lift, ignoring the sidelong glances from the couple of Aurors in there with him. He wasn't undesirable number one anymore, so they could take their glances and shove them.
As soon as the doors opened and he started down the Ministry steps, a camera was shoved in his face and Rita Skeeter was there with a notebook hovering over her shoulder.
"Why the long face Harry? Is it the ruling? Your love life? You've moved on from that muggleborn with the awful hair to your best friend's sister, haven't you?"
It was like time slowed to a crawl. His head turned as if he was underwater. How dare she.
He didn't know what he would have done because suddenly, Skeeter let out an awful screech before stumbling back. Harry stared at her in confusion as she started babbling to the cameraman.
"Did you catch that Leroy? Tell me you caught it!"
"What Rita? Him coming out with that poor boy look? Yeah, I got it."
Skeeter grabbed the man, yanking him back away from Harry like he was contagious, and started furiously whispering. "...red eyes…"
The camera man gave Harry an astonished look and began backing up from him too. Whatever .
Harry didn't care as long as they shut up and left him alone, so he started walking quickly away while they were distracted. He passed up the Ministry floos, preferring to walk even though it would take him some hours to reach Grimmauld that way.
London was actually experiencing a strangely perfect summer day. The weather was warm but not hot, and a nice summer breeze lifted his hair occasionally as he walked. Muggles gave him glances about his strange attire but kept the city attitude of minding their own business, and no one said a thing to him.
The sun lowered slowly as he walked and walked, his feet beginning to ache, small beads of sweat forming on his back despite the weather. As he walked, he passed a newspaper stand with the headline concerning a recent bombing in Ireland. He stood there for a moment, reading about the hundreds of victims—men, women and children.
The Wizarding World looked down on muggles—some overtly, some implicitly—and yet they were so similar. But then, the Wizarding World didn't have to be the same. But for a set of completely ridiculous circumstances, Voldemort would be in charge now.
If Voldemort had sent someone else to kill him.
If Voldemort had taken better care of his horcruxes.
If he hadn't been ridiculously obsessed with Harry.
So many choices that would have easily made Voldemort the ruler of the Wizarding World. Then what would have happened to Hermione?
The thought ate at Harry late at night–as if he was becoming just as unhinged as Voldemort, the what-ifs plagued him. Even worse, the solution his mind whispered in the twilight hours when he was alone and everyone asleep.
If I took over the Wizarding World, I could fix it. I would make it safe for Hermione. I would break their government into pieces and build it back up. I could fix it.
The Malfoys' stone faces flashed into his mind. He could make sure there was inescapable blind justice.
He paused on the sidewalk, his aching feet bringing him back down to reality a bit.
"Hermione." He whispered her name to himself, as if it was a charm to bring him back to his senses. This wasn't the first time he had thought about how easy it must be to take over the Wizarding World, and each time he pictured her face to keep him centered.
He was stuck between a rock and hard place when it came to Hermione. He would never try to take power because he could never fight knowing she would be against him. Then, despite the fact that he actually fancied her quite a fucking bit, he could never be with her.
The wild intensity of his attraction to her was such that if he was ever with her–how the fuck would he stop himself from taking power to remake the world for her?
It would be irresistible.
"Well, lookie who's finally arrived, Petunia. If it isn't the rich money grubber who never paid us for taking care of him!"
Harry's head jerked up at the sound of Vernon Dursley and he saw all three of them standing in front of Grimmauld. How the hell?
Petunia's sour face tightened. "You owe us money, boy. We got nothing for you for years and then come those strange people—telling us that you're rich! That money should go to us!"
Dudley stood behind his parents and looked as if he was trying desperately to be invisible. Harry stared at them as they continued to talk, trying to extort money from him. They finally slowed down when he didn't respond, looking at him impatiently, and Harry made his mouth move.
"Bugger off!"
"How dare you! You ungrateful–ow!" Petunia's hand rushed to her mouth, pressing against the sting. Vernon's eyes widened as he went from Petunia's face to Harry's.
"What did you do to your aunt, you terrible boy! You're not supposed to be doing magic!"
Harry cocked his head, looking at Petunia, and feeling his own magic within him. He was suddenly absurdly certain he could cast a stinging jinx wandlessly. Wordlessly .
"Ow! What are you doing!?" Vernon held his cheek, staring in horror at Harry.
"I'm sorry, uncle. Aunt. There must be some bees around here?" Harry lashed out with his magic again, hearing them howl and back up as they cursed at him.
Dudley looked at him, frightened, then back at his parents, who had begun to run away. He nodded at Harry, then backed up and followed his parents as they ran down the street.
Harry felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he trudged up the stairs of Grimmauld Place. He opened the door into the dark grim house, closing it behind him and shutting out the orange of the setting sun.
He sank to his knees slowly, trying to contain the feelings in his chest that seemed like they wanted to burst out. As he sat there, a small, hunched figure emerged from the darkness. Kreacher.
Harry couldn't make out the house-elf's expression in the dark, but he could see the bottle the house-elf put in front of him. Fire Whiskey.
"Kreacher has served all the young masters of the House of Black. Kreacher knows how to help his new young master." Then the elderly elf limped away.
Harry gave a sad laugh, picking up the bottle, thinking of Sirius. Of Regulus Black, who he had never met, but had influenced the war so much. Was this what winning felt like?
There was a low clinking noise as he opened the bottle, tipping it back. Enjoying the burning sensation as it traveled down.
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A knock at the door roused Harry hours later as he lay on the couch in front of the empty fireplace. He shivered as he stood up to make his way to the door. Despite the summer temperatures, the house was still chilly.
He opened the door, already bracing himself for it to be someone else that would irritate him, and was slightly thrown off when he saw Ginny Weasley there. She looked at him and gave a small, tentative smile. It was hard for him to push the impulse to turn her away, but he did stepping back to let her in.
"Hi Harry."
"Hey."
She wrinkled her nose as she passed him, giving him a concerned look. "Have you been drinking?"
He didn't answer as he walked back into the house, going back to sitting on the couch. She followed behind slower, sitting down next to him. She reached out and grasped his hand, holding it tightly.
"You should be happy, Harry. You did it. You saved the Wizarding World."
Harry shifted uncomfortably, licking his lips. He knew what she wanted– what she was referring to. He had broken up with her in sixth year because of Voldemort, and the threat of what Voldemort might do if he found out about Harry's relationship with her.
A year later, though, Harry wasn't the same person he had been.
"Talk to me, Harry." Ginny's eyes were pleading as they looked into his, and he thought maybe he could tell her what he actually thought.
"I thought when he was gone…" Harry shrugged. "It sounds stupid saying it now… I thought when Voldemort was gone that everything would be better. That there would be justice."
"There is justice though, Harry. The trials are nowhere near finished and then I know they want you to join the Aurors. You can make sure all of them get what's coming to them."
"Unless they're rich or connected enough to get off. It's the same as during the first wizarding war. The smart ones are all claiming they were under the imperious or buying themselves off. And the ideology is still there–today in the courtroom, they all whispered to themselves about Hermione."
"She made a spectacle of herself in court. She should have known better."
"She did it for me."
Ginny paused, considering him. "When you broke up with me you said you wished you had asked me out sooner. That you wished we had more time to be together. We do have more time now, Harry, we have the rest of our lives. You'll be so brilliant as an auror. Dad already heard they want to fast track you in MLE." She placed her hand on his thigh, leaning forward.
She was so close to him, Harry knew she wanted him to kiss her. "What if…"
He laid his hand on hers to stop it from moving. His green eyes glittered coldly, rage flaring in their pale depths. "What if instead of joining the Aurors, I simply took over?"
Ginny drew back as she looked at him. "Took over? What do you mean?"
"Voldemort was inept and obsessive and yet he almost won. I'm stronger than him. I know it. Ginny, I could remake our world. For the better this time."
"Why are you talking like this? What's gotten into you?"
"I won, that's what. I won and yet everything is still screwed up. Everything is still wrong."
"Then you join the Aurors! You work within the system to make it better! You don't just decide to bring down our government!"
"Your government."
"We are the same! It's our government."
"We are not the same."
"No, you're not the same. I'm still me, but something has changed you for the worse, Harry."
He scoffed at her, bending back to pick up the bottle again. "Maybe sitting in the Ministry waiting for justice while puce clothed bigots engage in theatrics has changed my mind."
"You're still caught up in everything that's happened." She came close to him again, her tone so compassionate it grated on his nerves. "After you calm down a bit, and time has passed, you'll forget this nonsense. And me and you… we're going to be happy, Harry."
Harry looked at her, trying to reach for that feeling he had experienced in sixth year when she had been close. She was a pretty witch, with her brilliant red hair and striking eyes.
And he felt absolutely nothing aside from annoyance. It was hard to restrain the ugly words that wanted to rage out, especially with the alcohol eroding his willpower. In the end, he wasn't completely successful.
"I could never be happy with you."
Her eyes widened and filled with tears as he stared at her coldly, and she jumped up. "You're going to regret saying that to me, Harry."
He didn't move as Ginny backed away, turned, and practically ran out of his house. He tipped the bottle up, finishing it, and Kreacher popped in right next to him, wordlessly taking the empty bottle and handing him another.
"Thanks." He muttered, tilting it up.
Kreacher bowed low. "Master."
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Harry became aware of the light stroke of fingers across his face and the low sharp conversation going on next to him.
"You are not to bring him more bottles."
"Master-"
"You ARE NOT to bring him more bottles."
If Hermione was using that tone of voice, he'd just pretend he was still asleep. He felt the couch shifting under him as Hermione transfigured it into a bed to make him more comfortable. She straightened the blanket over him before sliding her fingers affectionately through his hair.
"I know you're awake. We'll talk later, when you're not so sloshed."
He couldn't restrain a small smile and heard her give a small, frustrated harrumph. He slipped back into sleep, thinking of the witch next to him.
The one he couldn't have.
He dreamed he destroyed the Ministry building, then came back to Grimmauld and made love to Hermione on every available surface.
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A/N I have a terrible habit towards angst. I admit it. I kind of love it and the drama. I'm going to try really hard to make this a bit more lighthearted, a slightly insane yet happy Harmony duo that takes over Wizarding Britain. (rubs hands together like a gleeful villain) Let's see how it turns out.
Also I managed to delete my chapter planning for Intertwined (I'm a bit scattered now) so that chapter is getting pushed back to next week.
Hope everyone has a great week! ◖ᵔᴥᵔ◗