I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.

Defiance of Fate

Chapter 7 – Rest for the Wicked

"Well now, what do we have here?"

Harry and Blaise looked up. The entrance to Harry's tent had been thrown open and a woman stood in the entry way. She was dressed in robes similar to all the UK magicals, dark colors with reinforced padding. She was older, her blonde hair cut short. She wore glasses that were red rimmed but plain. Her eyes peered at them, inspecting critically.

"Dear Merlin, who let you out of Britain?" Blaise asked, his voice thick with sarcasm and mock horror. "Now any credibility we had internationally is utterly ruined."

"Don't say anything you don't want your mother to hear," she retorted. "I'll tell her."

"She won't believe you, no one does," Blaise said back.

"Harry does," she replied primly.

"Depends on what you write about," Harry said wryly.

She laughed. "Fair enough." Rita Skeeters eyes mellowed and she looked at Harry carefully. "How are you doing dear?" She looked at his bandaged arm and hand. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Harry stretched it slowly. "Hurt in combat a few days ago, I'm healing but it's taking a little longer. They're throwing around darker magics now."

"You should write about that," Blaise said. "This mad bastard runs into the thick of it to give time for the wounded to be evacuated, by himself. Summoned a whirlwind and blocked an enemy attack long enough to be reinforced and allowed us to counter attack. And it's true."

"I've heard and already started a draft of it," Rita said.

"He also got himself a new nickname," Blaise continued.

"I've heard that too and adore it," Rita smiled.

"Is silencing someone a harmful spell? I really need to know that," Harry said, looking up at the tent's top as if looking for aid from on high.

"You need to get used to positive commentary," Rita chided gently. "Heaven knows I've been working on improving your public perception for years now."

"I know, I framed the first nice article you ever wrote about me," he said with a smile. "It was very refreshing."

She snorted. "A bit overdue as well. Sadly I haven't done you as much good as I did harm before but I'm still working on it. I'm hoping I can turn things around more with how things are going here."

"I'm surprised it took this long for the Daily Prophet to send someone out for articles," Blaise remarked.

Rita sat on an offered stool. "Not many wanted to come out. It took some time for the unit here to report back on relative safety and stability before they were willing to let any of us come over. I'm only here for a day really, heading back late tonight. But Creevy will be here longer to take pictures and to report back. Same with Brown, she'll be writing and reporting."

"Oh it'll be nice to see Lavender," Harry said. "Astoria told me Colin was coming."

"Positively eager that one," Rita said fondly. "Has a good eye for pictures too."

"Do we have to watch what we say?" Blaise asked neutrally.

"Not at all. Unless you give me express permission, everything we say is off the record. Besides, coming to see the front and write some articles and stories was only half the reason for me coming out."

"What's the other half?" Blaise narrowed his eyes.

"Seeing Harry of course and making sure he is well, delivering a few things." She winked at a pink cheeked Harry.

"And not me?" Blaise asked, aggrieved.

"You're collateral." She laughed at his offended gasp. "I do have stuff for the both of you." She reached into a pouch and pulled out a shrunken object and set it on the ground and tapped it. It grew into a large case and she pushed it to Blaise.

He opened it eagerly. "Excellent! Some alcohol, a few books." He pulled out a stuffed bear. "My sister's sense of humor is still there I see. Oh and letters! Thank you, Rita." He dug deeper. "Nothing for Harry?"

"His is here." She unshrunk a trunk and made it float over to Harry. She laughed again at Blaise's look. "He has more people that wanted to send him things. Don't be jealous."

"Thank you so much," Harry said softly. He opened the top and looked in and his face went bright red. "Who sent these?" he asked, holding a handful of magazines with nude women on the front cover.

"Who do you think?" Rita asked, eyes sparkling.

"I don't think I want to guess," Harry laughed.

She joined in the laughter. "Those are from me. I put them in just to see you be delightfully embarrassed."

Blaise took them from Harry eagerly. "Thank goodness for Potter's prudity."

"That's not a word," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm not a prude, just easily embarrassed about things."

"He's a gentleman," Rita said, "something you could learn about Mister Zabini."

Harry listened to them bicker amicably as he looked through the contents of the trunk. Lots of treats and canned foods had been carefully packed within. Bottles of alcohol were separated by books and other little things. The last thing was a packet of letters tightly bound together and he looked at them wistfully, recognizing the different handwriting. "How are things back home?" he asked during a lull in the conversation.

"Pretty good. With the general populace following this war, they are more or less united. You have people caring more that we 'put a good show' on the international stage. Others care about the volunteers that are here and collectively mourn the ones we've lost."

She leaned forward. "Things in the Wizengamot are at a standstill over things. Since the war has gone well for the ICW side, the furor over our inclusion has died. The Minister has said that because of the volunteers, we are being taken seriously by the ICW and we will be gaining some help rebuilding things. The budget has been split a bit between rebuilding and getting the unit equipped and prepared, but since the casualties have been low and ICW success high, people have been fairly content."

"I guess that's one good thing about us being here," Blaise said with a hint of bitterness.

Rita noticed how still Harry became. She focused on him as she continued. "He made this big speech about the sacrifices of the volunteers and how we are indebted to them. How they were all willing to put their duty to the forefront. That everyone was happy to volunteer. Especially you."

"Happy?" Harry repeated, almost too soft to be heard. "Me?"

"Happily and willing," Rita said. "He said and I quote, 'it is a testament to their sense of duty to put the needs of the many over their personal needs, to sacrifice comfort for honor, to show the indomitable British spirit'." She frowned. "'We should all be thankful to Harry Potter for many reasons including this one, for doing what's best for others'."

Harry bowed his head, clenched his hands. He hissed in pain as his left hand and arm protested.

Rita knelt beside him and took his wounded hand in hers, gently pulling the fingers open. "He's full of shite, isn't he?" she asked baldly. "You know more about this. Tell me Harry. Tell me and I'll do my best to open things more."

"I can't," he said.

"You don't owe him anything," she insisted. "He did something to you, didn't he? I knew you wouldn't join another war for no reason. It'd have to be huge. Tell me, please. Let me help you."

"I can't," he repeated. "Not enough people would believe me if I said something."

Rita bowed her head. "I wish I never wrote that damn nickname about you," she said angrily. "It's my fault."

Harry said nothing but took out his wand. He held the tip to his temple and strands of white material built and formed. Rita, seeing him do that, pulled out an empty vial and she accepted the tendrils of memory from him."

"I can't tell you, but you can watch that," he said wearily. "Just…don't judge me too harshly for what's there."

"Never dear. I swear, I'll do right by you."

He looked at her. "Write whatever you want."

She paused. "Whatever I want?" She felt something in her chest ache at his nod. "I'm going to be very upset when I watch this, won't I?"

"Probably," he said.

She nodded slowly. "Okay. Thank you, Harry. I swear, I'll do what's right." She secured the vial in an inner pocket. "Well, I need to go do some interviews and the like but I'll want to have dinner with you before I go." She hugged Harry and Blaise before leaving.

"I can't believe you told her before me," Blaise said, giving Harry a look.

"I didn't tell her technically, and there's a reason why I didn't tell anyone but one person."

"Granger?"

"Yeah. To help take care of things before I left and in case things didn't…go so well for me here."

Blaise sighed. "Alright, well, I guess I'll read about it when she writes her article. Then we can talk about it after."

"I'm sure a lot of people will," Harry said tiredly.

After a moment of silence, Blaise spoke. "It's going to be a bad one, won't it?"

"Remember the article after the Tri-Wizard?"

Blaise nodded angrily.

"Worse than that."

Blaise spat. "I look forward to it then."

-0-

A month before Britain joined the ICW Task Force

"Ah Harry, good to see you."

Harry smiled. "Good to see you too, Percy. How's it going?"

Percy Weasley smiled back. "Not too bad, all things considered. Just another day rebuilding a Ministry and a country."

"That bad huh?"

Percy snorted. "Well, so far we've only had one Howler and one angry cabinet member so it's rather light technically. Come in, the Minister will be back shortly." He led Harry into the Minister's office. "Tea?"

"Please." Harry accepted the cup and handed a folder over. "Here's the reports from St Mungo's. I'm happy to report that things are fairly stable there. We've been able to stay on top of things and luckily between some donations for material and some hard work from brewing volunteers, we're okay potions and medicine wise."

"That is a relief," Percy sighed. "One less thing to worry about right now." He peered at Harry closely. "How have you been doing?"

"Doing okay, keeping busy just like you. But we've got the hospital running smoothly and have been slowly helping the smaller clinics getting back on their feet too. Luckily there's been an influx of people interested in being medi-magicals so it helps a lot as we rebuild the healer programs. We actually go a big crop of healer recruits. It'll be a while before they get trained up of course but it's promising."

"Splendid but I did want to know how you were doing," Percy said.

"Oh, well," Harry shrugged eloquently, making Percy snort. "Keeping busy. Luckily most of the hospital people care more about my work and what I do instead of what I didn't. Some patients refuse to see me but well," he shrugged again. "It'll be okay. How about you? How's the family and Ron?"

"Keeping busy as well. Undersecretary to the Minister is a very busy and thankless job but worth doing. Mother and Father are well. Fred and George are thriving, their store is open again and their injuries are mending as you know. Ron is still out of the country and sounds pretty happy with Miss Abbott. Ginny is away in Quidditch training and doing well. Bill and Fleur are doing fine and Victoire is a delight."

A small smile grew on his face. "They want you around more often as you know. I have been told to impress that upon you by them."

Harry smiled. "I'll find some time to visit soon. Glad to hear everyone's doing okay."

The door opened and Kingsley Shacklebolt entered. "Oh good, you're both here," he said as he closed the door behind him.

"Hi Kingsley," Harry greeted. "Was dropping off the St Mungo report and chatting with Percy here."

Percy's eyes narrowed. "Is everything well, Minister?"

Kingsley sighed and walked to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey. "Anyone else want some?" He brought the bottle over with more glasses when the other two shook their heads. "You might in a minute. I have some…distressing news."

"Oh no," Percy groaned. "Are there problems with the ICW?"

"You were meeting with the ICW today?" Harry asked, nervous.

"They insisted on an emergency meeting," Percy explained.

Kingsley took a gulp of firewhiskey. "Yeah. There's a…situation." He looked at them. "What I'm about to tell you both does not go beyond these walls; it is in strictest confidence on a need-to-know basis. Am I clear?"

Percy and Harry exchanged looks before nodding.

"The ICW has called on all member nations to send a unit of magicals to participate in a joint force. Are you aware of a Muggle war in the Middle East? Apparently a wizard is taking the local unrest as an excuse to carve out a new country for himself. He's already building an army and has attacked villages around him, expanding his territory. He recently crossed the border into another country so now it's an international incident, so the ICW is getting involved."

"Another war?" Harry asked faintly.

"It has been bare couple of years since we finished one here," Percy said hotly. "They surely do not expect us to send anyone! Our Aurors are still rebuilding, the whole country is still rebuilding!"

"They do," Kingsley said. "And we have to send a unit. As one of the original members, we must. If we don't, we lose status and possible membership to the ICW."

"That would be disastrous," Percy groaned.

"It's not…all terrible," Kingsley said slowly.

"How?" Percy asked.

"I've been negotiating with the ICW representatives. If we send a sufficient unit in contribution, they will help us domestically a lot in the next few years. We'll get a relief on fees and other responsibilities, get some outside help on rebuilding, some liquid capital, that sort of thing."

"That would be incredible," Percy admitted, "however…I do not see how we can make a meaningful contribution with our resources as they are."

Harry sat there, listening to them talk. This was above his head, he knew that. He knew that he did not know how to run a government or a country, or make such heavy decisions like this. Even during the war, the other war, the decisions they made were more of the 'make it to the next day' variety for the most part. This decision would impact them for years to come.

He realized that something felt off about this however. He noticed that it was just them having this discussion and by rights he had no reason to be here for it. He noticed how Kingsley seemed to refuse to look at him.

During the war, he developed a sense for incoming danger. For a while now it had remained dormant.

He felt it now, rising to warn him.

"There's a precedent that the Ministry has used in the past," Kingsley said, still not looking at Harry. "The ICW considers talent and strength to be comparable to the amount of people sent. Many times, a few individuals of significant influence could account for a country's contribution. There were times when it was Albus and a few others and that was considered enough."

Percy looked thoughtful. "That's interesting. That could work but Dumbledore no longer has a position in the ICW and I do not think he will represent us now."

"No and the ICW doesn't want him either," Kingsley said.

"Well, who else? Madam Bones? But we do need her here. I cannot think of anyone else-"

Harry started to laugh. It was a laugh of desperation, of someone seeing a terrible truth and was overcome by it. It had no mirth, no amusement. It bordered hysteria.

Percy had flinched and stared at Harry with confusion at first before horror dawned on his face. The horror grew when he looked at Kingsley who sat there without any sort of expression at all. "No…no. I cannot believe this."

"I can," Harry said hollowly. "But why would they want me?"

"You're the Boy-Who-Lived and the Man-Who-Won," Kingsley said, ignoring Harry and Percy's flinches. "You are also an incredible healer and you would be more than welcome as such."

"I'm also the Coward of England! You think anyone in Britain would want me there to represent them?! Have you forgotten that I'm a noncombatant?!"

"No, I have not," Kingsley said quietly. "Which is why I said that you are an incredible healer. You have considerable experience healing in something that's basically a warzone. By that criterion, you are one of the most experienced at battle field healing."

"We cannot ask Harry to do this," Percy said angrily. "He has sacrificed enough. Also, no offense Harry, Harry is not the same level as Dumbledore. Surely they would not just accept him alone."

"They won't. I will still put out a call for volunteers. Any willing to join the UK unit will receive bonuses and aid, which can be applied to families while they serve. But if Harry volunteers, then the unit number will be lower and we can take our time in building the numbers up and sending more when we can."

He leaned forward. "This will be a chance to unite us behind one thing. I've seen what this person in the Middle East is doing. He's not good at all. This will let all of the UK rally behind a singular purpose besides rebuilding. This can give us a little national pride by contributing to an international effort as well as receiving much needed aid."

"You would turn Harry into another symbol! One to be used again!" Percy shouted.

"One might argue that he is used to it," Kingsley said with a weak smile.

"That is no excuse!"

"Careful Weasley," Kingsley said, his tone severe. "I respect your right to disagree but watch how you show it."

"You can't make me," Harry said. His voice was cold and his heart burned. "I've had enough of war. Haven't I done enough?"

Kingsley nodded. "No, that's your right too. You don't have to volunteer."

Harry stared. "Or else what."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not stupid Shacklebolt. When someone says something like that, it's usually followed by an or else. So, or else what."

Kingsley did not miss the change in tone or address. He frowned but plowed on. "Or else, to make the numbers, we'll have to have a draft. We'll randomly select individuals from every magical of adult age." He ignored the looks of horror on Harry and Percy's faces. "And we will have to enact a representation protocol. Every full family, especially the purebloods, will have to send at least one member in to participate in the unit. No exceptions."

"You…you cannot do that," Percy said faintly. "That…the implications of such…"

"It has been done before," Kingsley said. "And we will do it again, if we must."

Harry's heart stopped. He looked at Percy, thought about the Weasleys. He thought about his friends, the ones that survived the war. His mind raced as he absorbed what Kingsley said, the meanings, the implications. "You would do that," he murmured. "If there is only one member of the family, one surviving member that can serve, they would have to. Even if they had children depending on them, other family, they would have to do it. Wouldn't they?"

Kingsley said nothing.

Harry's hand shook as he poured a measure of alcohol out and drank it in one swift swallow. His throat burned and he coughed, grimacing with discomfort. "I always wondered why people did that, drink something like this to deal with things. It seemed not right to me, to be inebriated to make decisions. I think I get it though. The pain from the alcohol distracts from the pain of the decision. It numbs you for the moment." His smile was brittle. "Like anesthesia."

"Harry," Percy hissed, "this will have to go before the Wizengamot. It will not pass like this. Do not feel like you must decide now."

"Weasley, you're out of order."

"Am I?! Then what are you?! How dare you do this to him? You know what he's gone through and you would-"

"I'll do it, but I want assurances," Harry interrupted.

"Harry, no," Percy moaned. "You cannot-"

"I have to. A draft would destroy us right now and forcing every family to send someone in? Yours has suffered, everyone in your family has suffered, who would go?" Percy shuddered at the thought. "Hermione? Luna? And I'm the last of my family so I'm doomed either way. At least if I volunteer, I can make conditions."

Percy turned away, grinding his teeth helplessly.

"Go ahead Harry," Kingsley said, looking relieved. "What do you want?"

"Only volunteers. No coercion to volunteer. No drafts. No matter how long this goes. I also don't want to be under the direct command of others. I know there might be some that'll love to send me off to some…circumstance and I want to be apart from that."

"You could be in command," Kingsley said.

"Then you wouldn't get any volunteers save for the people that I don't want to go at all. I want every volunteer to be compensated and their families, without reservation."

"Done. Anything else?"

"I want all this in writing." Harry looked at Kingsley with empty eyes. "After this, I'm done with the Ministry. I won't ever do anything for it, ever again. This is it, the last."

Kingsley nodded gravely. He wrote all of Harry's conditions down and signed it. Harry made several copies of it and took the original.

"I wish to tender my resign-" Percy began.

"Percy no. You have to stay."

"The hell I do!"

"You must," Harry pleaded. "You have to be here so I can trust that my conditions will be met."

Percy stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding reluctantly. Only then did Harry stand on unsteady legs and walk slowly to the door.

"Harry, I know this isn't ideal, but you are doing a very good thing. You're the hero I know you are," Kingsley said in a voice that was too sincere, too trying to be warm and encouraging.

Harry turned and Kingsley realized that he had never seen Harry this broken, not even during the last war. For a moment, he felt intense shame for what he had done.

"I never wanted to be a hero," Harry said. He smiled and it was a brittle fragile thing. "You learned a lot from the last war, didn't you Minister?"

"What do you mean?" Kingsley said, trying to sound positive.

"You learned a lot from so many people. You've learned to lie like Minister Fudge. You've learned to use weakness like Tom Riddle Junior. You've learned to manipulate like Albus Dumbledore. Well done, Minister. Well done indeed." He walked out, ignoring Kingsley's last words behind him.

-0-

Rita's howl of outrage filled her flat. She had emerged from the Pensieve, teeth bare and eyes wide. "How dare he!" she shrieked. "I'm going to fucking ruin you Shacklebolt!"

She paced back and forth, mind turning and stomach roiling. She had gotten back to England late and the time difference had made her even more tired. Curiosity had driven her to watch the memory however, thinking that she could digest the revelations and write in the morning.

Now, she had no desire for sleep. Her anger at the manipulation of Harry had woken her completely. Her first thought was to go to the Ministry and confront Kingsley herself but she knew it would not do anything beneficial for her. He would not be able to stop her completely from writing but it would hamper her.

She paused, an idea coming to her mind. She knelt by the fire and threw a pinch of Floo dust into it. "Undersecretary to the Minister," she said, crossing her fingers. One normally would not be able to call upon Ministry officials so easily but as a member of the press, her Floo was a little different. That did not mean she would be successful but there was a chance-

Percy's head appeared in the Floo. He looked tired but the moment he saw her his features sharpened. "Miss Skeeter? Why are you calling me so late?"

"I know."

He looked guarded. "Know what?"

"I know what he did to Harry," she said. "Harry gave me his memory of it."

Percy continued to look guarded. "And?"

"I'm going to burn Kingsley to the ground."

Percy's sigh of relief seemed to fill Rita's flat. Months of burden seem to roll off his face and he looked at her thankfully. "How may I help?" he asked.

-0-

The Death of Civility

Ladies and Gentlemen of Wizarding Britain, I write this article with a heavy heart.

I have written many articles, filled the Daily Prophet and associated media with stories that have had differing degrees of honesty. I fully admit that I have written things in the past that gleefully skirted the definition of journalistic integrity, where my sources were tenuous at best and unrelated at worst. There was an incident however that changed me and my approach to writing and ever since I have done my best to write accurately and honestly, far more than I ever did before.

I was tasked to go to the Middle East to interview the brave volunteers that had gone to represent the UK to the ICW. I obtained stories of heroism and horror that I intend to fully write out in the coming days. However, I admit to a personal interest in going. I wanted to go see someone that I care deeply about, one Harry James Potter.

Many of you might be surprised by that. There are few things I regret more than what I have done to him before. I have written tawdry terrible things about him. Delved deeply into his personal life. Exacerbated his flaws and diminished his achievements. If I could, I would gladly turn back time to prevent the printing of my most infamous article: The Coward of England. I shamefully admit that I am the architect of that name, something I fear I will never be able to correct for.

So why have I changed my tune? Why do I care about someone I willingly and eagerly vilified? I own the share of responsibility for turning the public against him in the early years of the War of Blood. Have I sworn an unbreakable oath to him to never write poorly of him? No. Has he paid me large amounts of money to never say a bad word about him? Also no. The reason for my change is that aforementioned incident. He did one thing that no one has ever done for me.

He saved my life.

During the Attack on the Ministry, I was caught in the fight. I was hit with a nasty curse and fully expected to die. I was going to leave a legacy of lies behind me. I was going to the afterlife knowing that my contribution to the world was writing awful things and benefiting from the pain of others.

Except I did not pass on. Given up for dead by both the Death Eaters and the Ministry, Harry Potter saved my life. He found me, had me brought to Hogwarts, and he took it upon himself to heal me. He found the counter-curse, he stayed with me throughout the entire ordeal. Others told him to not bother. Many asked him, myself included, why did he go through so much effort to save me? When I have done nothing but torture him and provide his enemies ample opportunities to hurt him?

He said it was the right thing to do.

He never demanded anything of me save for one thing: to only write the truth. Let others draw their own conclusions from the truth. Not even apologize to him. To make up for my past offenses.

I have done my best to do that ever since. How can I not? When a soul such as his, one who has lost and suffered as he has, is willing to help someone that he should have let die. I saw the real Harry Potter that day and have tried to live a better life in thanks to him.

Which leads me to this disgusting betrayal that he has suffered.

Our Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, has lied to us. He told us that Harry Potter volunteered to join the war effort, to represent us to the ICW. He told us that Harry was proud of doing it, that he had done so without reservation. That he was the epitome of English Grit and Gentleman Virtue.

What he did not say was how he tricked Harry into 'volunteering'. He told Harry that if Harry did not volunteer, then the UK had to contribute more than it did. Not only that, there would be a draft and all full magic families would be forced to send a representative regardless of state. Families of one survivor or families depending on one would still be forced to send their own to another war. This was confirmed by the Undersecretary to the Minister, who showed true remorse for not being able to act sooner.

Our Minister, the one appointed to act in our best interests, has done grievous wrong. He tricked someone to act in a way that best benefits himself in the guise of benefiting the most. Yes, with Harry volunteering, less people needed to be sent to the ICW task force and we would be receiving more aid from the ICW. That would give us more opportunity to rebuild and be comfortable, to recover. With him going, we would benefit the most. All it would take is denying him the right to choose. To suggest things that would happen that are not entirely legal nor correct. To deny him the basic civility that was his bare minimum due.

In parting, our glorious Minister called Harry a hero for volunteering. As if nothing he has done up until then was worthy of the title or accolade. As if EVERYTHING he had endured and done, was nothing compared to what he was being told to do. Forced to do.

Harry Potter was sent to a war under false pretense, a poor boy caught between duty and responsibility. He, a contentious objector, was sent to a war so that the burdens of others could be lessened. He was once again a sacrifice for us, so that we can continue on with him bearing the burden, the cost. He went knowing that he could refuse, that things could turn out different. But in his mind, it would be worse for all, so he accepted the responsibility that was not his.

Because it was the right thing to do.

How much longer? How much more can we ask of him? Is it not enough that he has been manipulated by so many before? Cornelius Fudge, Tom Riddle, Albus Dumbledore? I wonder how proud that Kingsley Shacklebolt can be added such august company. Harry has suffered enough for us and I am sick of it. We came through the War of Blood broken with promises to do better, to heal, to rebuild. Yet from my view, we have not improved at all if we are willing to let the blood of one nourish the many. Especially one who has bled so much.

If we are so ready to sacrifice what we had to get here, perhaps we do not deserve to continue on with such a false foundation.

I know full well that not all will believe this. I am hardly the paragon of truthfulness. I can only write what I have discovered here and implore you to go out and discover the truth of it. Demand an account from the Minister. Demand an account from the Ministry. I will be doing so. I write this knowing this could be my last article, that I could very much lose it all for revealing this. Yet I do so willingly.

Because, like my friend Harry would say, it is the right thing to do.

Rita Skeeter

-0-

Barnabus Cuffe looked up from the manuscript. "Verified?" he asked softly.

Rita nodded. "Signed affidavit by Percy Weasley and I have Harry's memory."

Barnabus nodded. "Well, I never thought I'd ever be woken up by you again in the middle of the night for an article, but I'm glad you did."

"Think we can put it in tomorrow's edition?"

"We're putting it in today's morning edition," Barnabus said. "Let's get it out there for people to see. They need to know."

She smiled. "Thanks Barnie."

He looked at her closely. "It took a lot out of you to write this."

Rita nodded, eyes red and heavy.

"This might be your best article yet," he said softly.

"It's only the truth," she said back.

"That's what makes it better."

"As long as it helps him," she whispered.

-0-0-0-

Hands Off MY Wolfie - Some people will believe only what they want to believe sadly. Harry will learn in time that he won't be able to downplay his incidents for much longer.

DOOOOOOM Lord of Waffles - I thought that would be cool, a haka as a spell. It seemed fitting. He will and the hints are there already. I still loathe to tag pairings so early but I might if I have to. It won't be an OC. That might be a good guess though and you will find out for sure next chapter.

LordDarkFluff - The hints are there already sort of if you would like to guess.

alix33 - Hedwig gets what Hedwig wants.

Urgwaew - Yeah and the mystery will continue to go for a bit longer but eventually most of the mystery will be gone. This chapter was the bigger reveal I had planned and hope it hits well. He will always be a little too self-sacrificing to be fair, hence the premise of this fic. Glad you are still liking it. Good energy to you.