Harry Potter: The Minister-Who-Lived: A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

Plot: Harry was always led to believe he was the bottom of the bottom of the barrel. However, one month before his 11th birthday, a visitor to Little Whinging shows him he's nowhere near there: in fact, he is the most-powerful man…err…boy in the country.

Author's Note: So, try not to go too nuts when you read this idea: in fact, I myself laugh myself crazy just thinking about it and yet, this bout of insanity was brought on by an episode from the 2019 remake of The Twilight Zone that, in it of itself, was funny and, being TTZ, spooky too; as a result, this new, interesting, hilariously-crazy idea came about and…well, I hope you enjoy it.

And, as always, if you don't like it, don't read it.

Recommended Reads: The Rise of the Last Potter and Agent Potter: The Wizard of WAND by HPfanfictioner66, Saviour of Magic by Colt01, Pray For The Wicked by Kapiushon, Trickshot, Silver King and Apex by JustBored21, Harry Crow by RobSt, Harry Potter The Protector of Magic and The Protector and the Four Guardians by TigerSwarm9122, Harry Potter: The Apex God by spartankiller117, A Year Too Soon by NHunter, Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man and Who Dares Wins by OlegGunnarsson

Key Pairing: Eventual Harry/TBD

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

/Parseltongue/

Chapter 1: I'm The What?

It was just another ordinary, hell-born, unimportant day for Harry James Potter.

A boy who, for all intents and purposes, was the sort of person that you wouldn't notice unless you really had to, and, even then, you would only see someone who was average, freakish, downtrodden and, generally, a nuisance to all those around him.

Well…that's what you'd see if you were the sort of person to believe the crap fed to you by Vernon and Petunia Dursley.

For the better part of ten years, minus a few months, Harry had been lovingly and carefully raised by his only living relatives, after his parents, Lily the Whore and James the Drunken Layabout Potter had dumped him on the doorstep of Number Four, Privet Drive, then sped off, getting blind drunk and, eventually, crashing their car and leaving Harry alone because they couldn't stomach the thought of having a monster for a child.

Again, this was, more or less, verbatim from Vernon and Petunia.

Two people, along with their son, Dudley – who, in their eyes, might as well have been the Second Coming since he could do no wrong, the sun set when he sat down and he was practically perfect in every way – who, instead of loving and caring for Harry, instead saw him as though he was the Devil himself. The black sheep of the flock and the bane of their existence, not to mention the one who was obviously responsible for every little bad, wrong, unfair or teensy little thing that might upset the nice and normal lives of the Dursley Family.

As proof of this abject, one-sided, unexplained bouts of personally-driven hatred, they treated Harry like the male Cinderella; he was beaten, barked at 24/7, made to do an obscene number of chores, given very little in the way of normal food, drink or even facilities and never…EVER…thanked, praised or shown an ounce of recognition for all his hard work.

And if Harry dared to ask questions, speak out or make any assumptions about his life, he was borderline-deafened by the way-too-loud cries of his Uncle, harmed and neglected by the hand – and, on one occasion, even a frying pan – from his Aunt or beaten – and called playing with him – by his Cousin, all of whom said the same things over and over.

He was nothing.

He was a freak.

He was a scrounger.

A freeloader.

The bottom of the barrel.

No…that was wrong…he was the bottom of the bottom of the barrel.

Not worth doing anything, because he would never amount to anything and nobody…not one person, cared about him at all.

MWL

Oh, how wrong the Dursleys were about to be proven…they just didn't know it yet.

Neither did they know how screwed they were, once the truth came out.

MWL

As was said, it was just another day.

For Harry, this meant getting up when his Aunt pounded on the door frame, sluggishly moving into the kitchen where he had to be very careful not to burn the breakfasts, let the coffee go cold or waste time retrieving the mail – and disposing of bills since his normal family didn't need to bother paying taxes or other such nonsense to freeloading government freaks, as was the Dursley Way – before proceeding with his chores.

And, while Harry was graciously allowed a bit of spoiled egg that had fallen onto the floor, along with a very small, mouldy-edged piece of bread for his breakfast, his family ate like pigs at the trough.

This was especially true for Dudley, who actually sprayed Harry with his food when he demanded more, earning a laugh from Vernon, "That's my boy! Never deprive a growing boy of his food, that's what I say. Well, Freak: aren't you going to help your cousin? He's got a big day ahead of him!"

What that big day involved, Harry would never know…

For, as he went to shovel another trough-load of food onto Dudley's plate, the normalcy of the moment was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"WE DON'T WANT ANY!" Roared Vernon, earning a scowl from Harry.

Another charity collector or salesperson meant he would be blamed for it, even though he never actually knew what any was, let alone why people kept coming to the door.

When a second round of knocks sounded, however, Harry visibly flinched when he heard his Uncle's chair fall to the ground with a crash.

"DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME, YOU SELFISH PIGS? WE SAID WE DON'T WANT ANYTHING AND WE'RE NOT GIVING ANYTHING AWAY EITHER! NOW GO AWAY OR ELSE I'LL CALL THE POLICE!"

That was when the door suddenly clicked open, earning a horrified look from Aunt Petunia, while Vernon turned his piggy eyes on Harry, who'd just managed to drown Dudley's breakfast in more bacon grease and brown sauce than was probably allowed for a normal human. At the same time, he flinched again as he saw the look, knowing that the trouble he was undoubtedly going to get into later, would be accompanied by, at the very least, his Uncle's fists, the back of his hand or, worse, the belt.

As he tried to skulk his way to the table, however, Harry stopped in his tracks when he heard a soft, female voice speak.

"Mr Potter?"

"WHO ARE YOU? GET OUT OF MY…"

Before Vernon could finish, Harry's head snapped up when, suddenly, his Uncle's voice fell silent, followed by another horrified look and a gasp of disbelief, rage and fear from Petunia.

Harry, meanwhile, found himself looking up at a woman that he had never seen before: she was a somewhat-attractive-looking young lady, whom was dressed in clothes, the likes of which he had never seen before. They looked like someone's dressing gown, or one of those capes a superhero might wear, except with sleeves and covering the woman's whole body; she also wore loose-fitting clothes under the cape-like cloth and had a head of short, neatly-brushed, auburn hair with a few grey streaks dotted here and there. Her eyes were a warm, but fierce-looking shade of hazel and, to Harry's curiosity, the woman also seemed to wear a single glass over one eye – a monocle, as he'd later learn.

In one hand, she also carried a long, thin stick, which she lowered as she looked from Harry to Vernon, her expression darkening in a look that Harry easily recognised as rage, fury and disbelief, all of which she seemed to direct not at Harry, but Vernon.

"You filthy…disgusting…inhuman mongrel…do you have any idea what you've done? Alastor!"

Suddenly, a larger, more-terrifying-looking man – mostly owing to the fact that he seemed to have a mechanical eye and a metallic leg, as well as a large walking cane that looked like it could send Harry flying all the way to Dover with a single swing – stepped into the room, his expression as dark as his companion's, while the woman pointed a single, shaking finger at Vernon.

"Take this…man…and these…people into custody for crimes of child abuse, wanton neglect of a minor, as well as other crimes I am certain will come to light sooner rather than later! In fact, when you've locked them up, contact Andromeda and Edward: let's see how these Muggles handle the most-intimidating lawyers in the country!"

"NOW SEE HERE…"

"Ah, shut your mouth, Petunia Evans!" snarled the dangerous-looking man, whom Harry guessed was Alastor, his voice as rough as his looks, while he also rounded on Petunia, his strange eye now fixed on her as he hissed, "Now I finally understand why Lily never bothered letting us protect you when he decided to come after her and her family!"

With that last word, the man stamped his strange cane onto the ground; suddenly, Harry's eyes widened when all three Dursleys vanished in a burst of light, leaving him alone with these two strange, scary, but also curious-looking people.

As he looked from the now-empty table to the two people, Harry saw the woman take Dudley's plate from his hands, before she set it down on the kitchen unit; once that was done, she turned back to him, kneeling down to his eye level as she smiled softly at him.

"I apologise if we've frightened you, Mr Potter, but, circumstances being what they are, we couldn't wait for anyone unorthodox to be the ones to inform you of the events of this morning. However, if you'll allow me to start over: my name is Amelia Bones, and my partner here is Alastor Moody: he is one of my most-trusted lieutenants, a dear friend and someone whom, like me, knew your parents when they were…um…"

"Alive?" asked Harry, earning a worried look from Amelia, before Harry shrugged, "I…I know they died…in a car crash, right?"

"That's it, I'm killing them: no court will convict me," growled Alastor Moody, earning a flicker of a smile from Harry, while Amelia cleared her throat.

"Given who is standing in the room right now, Mad-Eye…I daresay you just told the Merlin of all lies," argued the young woman, before she looked back to Harry as she added, "I'm afraid there isn't enough time to explain everything about how wrong that statement of yours is, Mr Potter; however, if you'll come with us, Alastor and I, not only can we protect you, but we'll tell you everything that the…the Muggles clearly didn't."

"Muggles?" asked Harry.

"Non-Magic folk," answered Alastor, earning a frown from Harry.

"But…but there's no such thing as magic."

"Well," laughed Amelia Bones, earning another curious look from Harry before she gently clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"Given that I'm talking to the kid who has, by some really weird miracle and lucky streak, been voted in as the new Minister for Magic, I really hope that's not true, wouldn't you, Mr Potter?"

Harry's eyes widened in their sockets.

But not because of the fact that this kind, friendly-looking lady might as well have just told him that his family had been lying to him all his life.

"I…I…I-I-I'm the what?"

"The newly-elected Minister for Magic of Great Britain and Ireland, lad…basically, the guy who now runs the Magical Communities of the whole United bloody Kingdom," replied Alastor, earning another dumbfounded look from Harry, which only grew more intense as the man chuckled with genuine amusement and satisfaction.

"And, if this is anything to go on, I've got to say; whatever genius decided to throw your hat into the ring and nominate you in the first place…boy, are they going to be in for a big surprise?"

So, excuse me a moment, would you?

(Runs off, but readers hear Joker-worthy maniacally-crazed laughter echoing through a soundproofed room, before…)

Okay, I…I'm back, and…and…BLOODY HELLFIRE AND BRIMSTONE!

Harry Potter, who might have found it bad enough being the Boy-Who-Lived, now runs the bloody country?

What genius came up with that? (Apart from me, anyway!)

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Amelia tries to fill in a hell of a lot of blanks for the kid who now runs the whole damn show, but can Harry find it inside himself to not only accept the grim truths of his past, but the long, winding and dangerous road that now stretches out in front of him? One thing's for certain: a whole new game of thrones is about to begin…and when you play that game, Harry, you win…or you die: so, which will it be, Minister Potter?

Please Read and Review

AN: Portrayal

Amelia Bones: Michelle Williams