The Houses Competition (or THC)
House: Hufflepuff
Class: Transfiguration
Prompt(s) chosen: (Theme) Trying to be something/someone you're not. (Prompt) [Action] Putting on a watch
Word Count: 2539
Disclaimers/triggers: Post book seven battle at Hogwarts when Voldemort is killed for good and the lives of the characters go on. Political AU where Harry doesn't become an Auror.

Harry grimaced as he slipped on his Wizengamot robes, the silken material just as foreign to him as was the associated jewelry. When he had defeated Voldemort, he'd had every hope of the world leaving him be after all the mourning and celebrations had been done with.

For a short time — a very short time — he had been right. Everyone had been so absorbed in their own mourning and celebrations that he had some blessed quiet. That quiet had lasted for the nominally short time of a singular week.

"Harry, what are you doing? You're going to be late to the Wizengamot and with it being your first session as the Head of Houses Black and—"

"I am perfectly aware what time it is!" Harry snapped, cutting off Hermione before she could get into a rant about decorum, protocol and whatnot that she'd told him about a thousand times already. He took a breath before sighing as he heard the irritated huff he knew was coming. "Look, I'm sorry, but the fact I'm doing this at all is irritating to me and already making me want to tear my hair out. Pardon the bout of annoyance since I think there's going to be an abundance of Ogden's in my future until my children take over the seats themselves." A hand was tossed to the side towards an open window. "In a perfect world, it should be my father sitting the Potter seat and Sirius on the Black one but this excuse of a backwards society is not perfect. Not to me. Not to you. Not to anyone who isn't a Pureblood or less than gold-blooded, soulless vipers. So do us both a favor, spare me the lecture and—just spare me the lecture. For once, let that giant library you call a mind have a moment's rest because I don't need a friend right now, Hermione, I need an assistant. That is why you agreed to this, remember?" he asked while running a hand through his hair.

Hermione wanted to protest the rather rude treatment but she understood Harry's frustration. He was barely going on eighteen and he was being forced into politics with the people who'd made his life hell while he roamed the halls of Hogwarts and the year they were on the run. Well, what was left of them after the Ministry was stripped of every corrupt witch and wizard that now resided in a cozy little cell in Azkaban for various lengths of time with bound magical cores so no one could escape like Sirius once had. She personally thought that it was barbaric, not to mention dangerous, but reluctantly agreed it was for the betterment of society at large. That, and the fact the Dementors were gone.

"Fine, you're right and I get it, but don't think that I am going to allow you to—let's just get on with it shall we? The new Lords being initiated into the Wizengamot have to go through their Appointing and it's rather lengthy," Hermione said, cutting off the lecture that had threatened to start as they always did when she was annoyed.

Harry shot a look over his shoulder as he opened the last box on his vanity with a sense of sorrow and dread. There had been a letter on top of it earlier when one of the Potter House Elves had appeared with it and congratulated him on his full ascension to Lord Potter and promptly disappearing after. It had been penned by his father, dated just after Harry had been born, congratulating his son on 'becoming a full Potter Man,' espousing that there was a lot he would have to do now as a full wizard of House Potter. The letter suggested Harry find a wife immediately and have a ton of kids only for decidedly feminine handwriting to take over after scolding James for his suggestions and giving Harry the lightest version of what he had to do as Heir Apparent to the House. Irony of all ironies, because he was the last Potter, it made him Lord instead of Heir Apparent.

"Heavy lies the crown on a kingdom of nothing and traitors," the raven-haired wizard muttered under his breath.

Shaking himself out of this thought, Harry drew out his antique gold pocket watch and clipped the chain to the dedicated golden loop before slipping it into his pocket. The Potter crest on the lid was filled with ivory to make it more noticeable against the gold tone of the watch itself. "Let's get going Hermione." He strode past her and made his way to the floo, threw the powder in as he declared the Ministry of Magic as his destination and walked into the emerald flames.

The Appointing was twice as horrible as Harry thought it would have been. Binding one's magic to a family seat on the Wizengamot was taxing by itself, but the binding magical oath to do right by the magical community really sapped him after going through it twice for both his families. The only plus side to it was that the Potter and Black seats combined into one, giving him many, many votes just by himself and the new chair had more of the Black decadent flair for comfort despite the dual crests that were stitched into the upholstery above his head.

"Now that the Appointing protocols are finished, we can get onto the planned agenda for today. Lord Crowley has proposed a tax on the muggle-born and half-blood bou—"

Harry bristled in his seat before firing a spark up into the air from his wand signalling his request to speak.

"The floor recognizes Lord Potter-Black," the Chief Witch intoned as she clenched her hands from behind the podium she was standing at. This was going to be a very, very long and annoying day; she could feel it in her bones.

"Are we really going to play this game all over again? The last hundred years or so, this body has been attacking muggle-borns and half-bloods with impunity because it was controlled by Pureblood supremacists like Lucius Malfoy and Dolores Umbridge. Targeted taxes, muggle-born registrations as though they were muggle war criminals, criminalizing those afflicted with an incurable condition like lycanthropy as less than human—you're asking for another civil war with measures like this being proposed and this time none of you are going to win because the muggle-borns and the half-bloods outnumber the remaining Pureblood families at least ten to one. That's not even counting the majority of this body is made of what was broadly considered the Light Side of the war's families versus what few of you, and you know who you are," Harry glared at Draco in particular "who swore allegiance to the magical equivalent of Hitler. Fiance's, brides, husbands, relatives or children who are half-blood or muggle-born themselves—raise your hands if your House includes one of the above."

An overwhelming majority of the chamber did as they glared at Lord Archibald Crowley, a Pureblood Lord whose family gained Noble status after his grandfather won an Order of Merlin First Class for assisting in the war that ended the reign of Grindelwald, with sinister eyes.

"Without needing to hear the rest of the proposed bill, let's put it to the vote. Everyone knows the dog and pony show here, blue sparks for yay and red for nay." Harry shot his red spark up firmly while crossing one leg over his knee. "Who wants to start a war that is going to destroy this country with Lord Crowley as the new 'Pureblood' Dark Lord looking to suppress and murder those he views as lesser after we barely just rid ourselves of Voldemort and the majority of his cronies?"

The result was, predictably, overwhelmingly nay, shooting the bill down.

Lord Crowley was furious, but under the mountain of evil eyes being directed at him, and his own sense of self-preservation, he said nothing.

When the meeting was adjourned, members of various voting alliances left together while some stayed behind talking shop and political strategy. Several bills like Lord Crowley's had been on the agenda and shot down. Harry's votes on behalf of the Potter and Black seats did more damage than many who supported the bills liked.

"Lord Potter-Black, might I have a moment of your time?" the Chief Witch asked with a tone that suggested the question was not actually a question but a demand.

Harry carefully popped his pocket watch out and hit the button to unlock the face. Emerald eyes quickly glanced at the time through the skeletal design, before clicking it shut. "Certainly Chief Witch, give me a moment to speak to my assistant and I'll be right back," he said before going at her nod.

"Harry! What was that?! Do you know how many rules of the chamber you just bent, twisted and spat?! It's a miracle the Chief Witch didn't eject you the first time you-"

"Hermione, was I wrong?" Harry asked as he put a hand on her shoulder to quiet her. "And for the record, I didn't bend, twist or spit on the rules of the chamber. I made myself clear of wanting to speak each time and in a way that was not sanctimonious. Give me a little credit."

"You called Lord Crowley the next Dark Lord," Hermione countered with a hard look.

"He wanted to go the Umbridge route; what would you call him?" Harry countered with his own hard look. "I need to speak with the Chief Witch. We will go over your notes tomorrow and strategize for the next meeting."

Hermione huffed as she walked off muttering about 'Stupid boys and their anger issues' under her breath.

Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's reaction as he went back into the Wizengamot chamber only to find it empty save for the Chief Witch at her podium. "You wanted to—"

"Lord Potter-Black, I don't know what you intend to do or why you're here but I know what you are not" the older witch said without preamble. "What you did was a slap into the face of tradition and respectable due process for governmental proposals."

"Yes, because we should let the Blood Supremacy idiots who believe that taxing muggle-borns and half-bloods into deeper poverty than they already are is respectable," Harry snorted.

The witch growled and pointed a long, bony finger at the younger wizard. "That is precisely what I mean!" the woman said sharply. "I am not a fan of the rhetoric either; no one with a right mind is and it is thanks to you and the others who brought down Voldemort that has made repealing such reprehensible laws a possibility. But you, of all people, you don't belong here. You don't care about the paperwork or the issues. You are still a boy stuck in the mindset of us versus them; the underserved and beaten down versus the Purebloods who hate them. You're going to make things harder than they need to be to get good laws into place. You are only going to incite the remnants of the Pureblood families that supported that monster to become that much more focused on making the lives of the citizenry harder than they need to be. Do us all a favor and elect proxies and let the politics be done by people who can get it done right."

Harry watched the woman disappear through a door. He was doing this to honor his families and do what he felt was right for the community at large, not for vengeance as the Chief Witch made it sound like. If it pissed off people like Malfoy, that was just a benefit as far as he was concerned. He could have taken Kingsley's offer of becoming an Auror but he'd had enough fighting after the final battle when he killed Voldemort.

"I'm doing this for the right reason. I know what the underserved, downtrodden and oppressed feel like in this society thanks to Hogwarts," Harry said to himself with a frown as he slowly left the chamber. He knew in his heart that he was doing the right thing for the right reason even if his methods, while within the rules of the Wizengamot, were a bit like a bull in a china shop.

The Chief Witch's words gave him a split second of pause as paused in the doorway. 'But you, of all people, you don't belong here. You don't care about the paperwork or the issues, you are still a boy stuck in the mindset of us versus them; the underserved and beaten down versus the Purebloods who hate them.' Those had been her words and while there was a tiny shred of truth in it, it wasn't as the older witch had said.

"No, it isn't my bias at all." Harry shook his head as he made his way to the lobby of the Ministry and used the Floo to return home. He had a lot to think about and all night to do it.

It was nearly midnight when Harry decided to call it a night. His mind was running in circles at the speed of a snitch at full speed between the defending teams beaters, his eyes focused on the watch.

The clicking of the gears inside was driving him nuts. Harry admitted, in the solitude of his home, that it was not the watch itself but what it represented that was bugging him. Duty, obligation, family honor, House values, new titles that he didn't want in the first, expectations of alliances and the like- this wasn't him! He chucked the watch in a moment of anger, the timepiece bouncing off a wall after the sound of the inside glass shattering reached his ears.

"This not the behavior a Lor-"

Harry silenced the painting of what he could only assume was one of his ancestors with a flick of his wand. "I'm tired and annoyed and I had my first day in the Wizengamot seating both the Potter and Black seats after some resemblance of normalcy has returned to this country. I had to listen to Purebloods propose taxes and acts to beat down the muggle-borns and half-bloods like it was business as usual despite the fact I ended a war by killing their master who stood on his own homicidal soapbox declaring said groups to be the cause of declining wizarding society. I am entitled to have a hissy fit" he said glaring at the portrait.

The portrait scowled before leaving its frame to leave the temperamental wizard to his tantrum.

After a moment, not to mention a deep breath, Harry retrieved the watch. His brow furrowed as he cast the repairing charm on the pocket watch. Despite the knowledge of other branches of magic, just watching it in motion still left him in awe; particularly the simple things like repairing a simple object. He clicked the button to free the lid and the inside was pristine as it was that morning. Without a word he left the study for his bedroom.

Tomorrow was a new day and he needed to be at his best to face it.