A/N: So it wasn't the following weekend, after all! I'm so sorry, but my Muse just left me on that point. I was dangling for quite a while. You will all be happy to note that I have several handwritten pages ready and waiting, and can foresee many more in my future as long as the Muse continues to be kind. I've been asked several times about a sequel and I am happy to say that my Muse has left me with little choice but to write a sequel after I finish this fic. God help me. I don't have a title yet, so I'm going to have a little contest. Suggest a title for the sequel to this fic. If I like one enough, I'll use it. Since its summer, my updating should be picking up. Thanks for being so patient, and some not so patient. I didn't forget, I just couldn't write.
On to the story…
"Hello, Minister." Harry greeted him with a smile. "Please, have a seat." Harry sank into a chair when he noticed Tom glaring at him. That was nice. His glare told Harry everything he needed to know. It said how dare you be standing this long! Sit down now! to I will kill him if he says one wrong word to you. Harry looked up at the Minister. "I'm sure you'll forgive me, but Madame Pomfrey gave me strict instructions upon allowing me to meet with you, and I'm not about to incur her wrath for etiquette's sake. What did you want to discuss?" Harry asked him, finally relaxing now that Fudge had comprehended exactly what Harry had wanted him to do and taken his own seat.
Fudge sat and stared at Harry for a few seconds, making Harry feel like Dumbledore's evil twin was sitting there staring at him. "I've heard some disturbing things, Mr. Potter." Harry just bet he heard some disturbing things, most likely rumors spread around from those who found that focusing their rage towards Harry was the best thing life had to offer. Harry decided to be a Gryffindor and not manipulate the Minister…too much.
"Oh?" Harry questioned, settling himself into his chair as though readying himself for a chat with his friends. "What sort of things?" Harry asked. He saw Dobby appear with a tea tray out of the corner of his eye. He nodded his thanks to the elf (how in the world had Dobby known that Harry would have welcomed tea?) and motioned for Fudge to help himself. Harry picked up a tea cup one handed and left the saucer on the tray.
"That you killed You- Know-Who." Harry kept his face calm as Fudge seemed to get angry with him. Why in the world would Fudge be angry with him? He had done the man a favor, even after Fudge had threatened Harry's happiness time and again!
"Yes, I killed Voldemort." He answered. He took a breath, paused and released it. "It's not a fact I am proud of, but he's gone now and cannot terrorize the world any longer." And I'm a murderer. Harry felt an odd feeling settle around his heart. Regret. He regretted killing the Dark Lord. Oh, wonderful. He made a mental note to tell Tom.
"And now, I hear rumors of you wanting to take his place." Harry froze with his teacup halfway to his mouth. The notion was so absurd that he did the only thing he could: he laughed. Harry put his teacup down and had to hold onto the chair. "I assure you, Mr. Potter, that this is not a laughing matter." Fudge said, deadly serious. Harry winced as his ribs reminded him of his need to breathe.
"People are saying that I want to be the next Dark Lord?" He asked in between laughing fits. "That's ridiculous!" He calmed down and regarded Fudge. "The idea bears thinking on. Let's see, Quidditch matches every day, chocolate frogs for breakfast, and lessons only an hour a day. That sounds about right." Harry's face grew pensive, as though he was actually thinking about the concept. He lapsed into silence while Fudge grew tense. "No, I don't believe that I'll be taking over the world." He said with a smile. "It's too much responsibility." Harry picked up his teacup again and swallowed some more. What had Dobby put in this? It was really good. He noticed Tom and Dumbledore twinkling from the corner. Oh no. Dumbledore passed on his twinkle. They were spending far too much time together. Harry made a mental note to stop landing in the hospital wing, just to keep the two of them away from each other.
"Thank you for laying that issue to rest." Harry noticed that Fudge looked slightly…upset? He couldn't quite understand that reaction. Fudge's next comment pushed all musings from Harry's mind. "There is also the issue of your summer accommodations." Harry sat up. His summer what? "The wizarding society does not want to see you go back to your Muggle relatives." Now the magical world steps in. Where were they when I was younger? Fudge mistook Harry's sitting up as eagerness and continued on. "Some of the more prominent families have petitioned to become your guardian," Fudge gestured to one of his entourage, whom promptly handed Fudge a folder. The minister opened the folder and pulled out a list. Harry set his cup down. Now, it was time for business. "This includes an outline of each family, names, ages, occupations, things like that, as well as other children in the family, where they live, what they have to offer you, and so on." All approved by the Ministry, no doubt, as the best able to 'handle' my situation.
"Thank you, Minister. I'm sure this list was a lot of work to put together, but I'm afraid that I won't need it." Harry told him, sitting back again.
"Oh, you already have someone in mind? Perhaps they are on this list." Fudge held out the list for Harry to see. Harry waved it away.
"It won't be necessary." Harry told him forcefully. "I already have a wizarding family." Fudge, with his usual speed, took a few minutes to process Harry's comment.
"You already have…?" Fudge blustered, face hardening at Harry's admission. Harry pointed at Tom and smiled. Tom waved at Harry and stayed in his spot. "I thought that Mr. Riddle was ordered to keep his distance from you." Wow, was Fudge behind on the times.
"He was. He was also cleared of all charges when Malfoy was revealed as Voldemort's willing recipient." Harry tried not to sound so smug, but it was so hard when Fudge offered a willing target. Fudge's face turned an interesting color, one Harry was sure that Vernon Dursley sported from time to time when it came to mention of his former nephew's name. What a fascinating color on a grown man. A mix between purple and puce. Eww. Harry glanced over at Tom and noticed that Tom was starting to look worried. Harry guessed that he had been out of bed too long. It certainly was starting to feel like it, even with the potions he had taken earlier. "We share blood, you see, so he adopted me. That law did say we had to share blood or I had to be out of danger. Both conditions have been met, so I've been adopted." Harry decided that he should try to console Fudge in some way. "Thank you for your efforts on my behalf. It is appreciated." He told the puce/purple man sitting in front of him. Fudge seemed to take his thanks well and calmed down.
"The world wants to see you, to reassure themselves that you are alive and the papers are not making up stories. I thought that a small press conference may be acceptable, if you have the time." Now? I can't. I'm too tired.
"When?" Harry asked, rubbing his forehead. What an odd headache.
"I can have the reporters here shortly." Harry shook his head, which only caused his headache to increase. He pressed another hand to his head.
"Not today." He said. "Not right now." Harry stood, intending to tell Tom that he wanted to return to the Hospital Wing, but found that the world was tipping and fading in and out.
"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Fudge asked. Tom and Dumbledore moved forward as Fudge let out a shout of surprise when Harry started to fall to the floor. Harry landed in someone's arms. He opened his eyes, unsure of when he had closed them, and looked up to find several people around him.
"Thanks for catching me, Poling." Harry said, closing his eyes against the bright lights overhead. "I think that I need to get back to the hospital wing." Poling handed him over to Tom, while Dumbledore waved his wand and a silver shape flew from the room.
"What happened?" Tom asked, helping Harry to sit up.
"Got dizzy. Or something." Harry said tiredly as he blinked to keep awake. "I'm ready for bed again." He turned to the minister. "I'm sure you'll forgive me, Minister." He leaned against Tom and closed his eyes. "I'm not quite up to scratch yet." Harry felt Tom's arms go around him. "I'll be in touch about the press conference. It is a good idea." He told him, not liking the idea but knowing the necessity of it.
"May I have a statement?" Fudge asked. Harry nodded and tried to come up with something worthwhile to say through his exhaustion riddled mind.
"The war is over. Now is the time to remember what is really important in life and hold onto it." He shrugged. "Best I can do." He said, leaning even further into Tom's embrace. The doors banged open and Madame Pomfrey came in with a stretcher.
"I told you that you weren't ready to be out of bed yet, Mr. Potter. Did you listen?" she started. Tom cut her off.
"I'm afraid your lecture will be wasted. He's already asleep." Tom helped to arrange Harry on the stretcher. "Minister, I'll make sure that Harry contacts you when he next wakes up, to decide about that press conference. Thank you for coming to see him. I know he appreciates it." Tom followed the stretcher out while Dumbledore offered to escort Fudge to the main doors.
&&&&&&&&&&
Harry was facing Voldemort, trying to figure out exactly how he was going to pull this off without anyone else dying. There were scattered bodies surrounding the pair of them. Voldemort had turned this duel into a game. "One more point to me." Voldemort said as Harry tried to push himself up to his feet. There was a crude imitation of the Hogwarts hourglasses for points to the right of Harry. He watched in horror as another person fell through the bottom and died from the Killing Curse.
"No." Harry whispered to himself as Voldemort faced him again.
"Shall we try again?" The Dark Lord inquired, looking as though he was slightly bored. Harry raised his wand and said a curse, only in Parseltongue this time.
"Oh, Mr. Potter. Didn't you know that I am immune to that one as well?" Harry shook his head in disbelief. Why wasn't anything working like it should? "Another point to me." Voldemort said gleefully. Harry could only watch, helpless to stop him, as another of Harry's friends died from the Killing Curse. "Again?" Voldemort asked. "For higher stakes this time?" Harry ground his teeth. "Your new father, perhaps?" Tom appeared next to Voldemort, not moving at all. Why wasn't he doing something? Harry raised his wand and sent another curse, again in Parseltongue, towards Voldemort. Voldemort gave a little laughed as his body absorbed the curse. "Well, another point to me!" He raised his wand and green light flew towards Harry's father.
"Dad! No!" Harry had no other choice but to watch the man die.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&
"Harry!" Harry sat up and gasped in air as he tried to locate Voldemort so he could stop him. Wand? Where was his wand? Hands. Who was holding him down? He struggled to get away. "Harry! You're okay. It was a dream. It was just a dream." Harry opened his eyes and saw his father sitting next to him on his bed. His eyes took in his bedroom at home. It was night, very late if the stars were anything to go by, and his father was in pajamas as well. He was in his room at home. Sensation started to come back to him. The feel of the blankets confirmed Tom's statement. Tom had his hands on Harry's upper arms, restraining him and holding him at the same time. "It was just a dream, son. Take a few deep breaths." Harry tried to do as he was told, but the breathing only started the tears he had tried to hold back.
Tom shifted so he could hold Harry while the boy broke down. It was their second night home, and Harry's nightmares, once banished, had returned. It seemed that they were different this time, but he was unsure as to how they were different. Just that they were and disturbed Harry so much that talking about them was out of the question. "It's alright, Harry." He told the shivering boy in his arms. "It's alright."
Harry lay against his father, completely exhausted by the dream and his reactions. He didn't understand them, and didn't want to try. He knew he was shaking, but he couldn't stop. What was wrong with him? He had killed Voldemort! The wizarding world would get a laugh if they knew that their savior was brought to his knees from a fantasy of his own brain! Tom summoned a warm washcloth and started to wash Harry's face. Oh, wonderful. Not only was Harry Potter brought to his knees from a simple little dream, he was crying because of it! He listened to his father's voice talking nonsense to him as he tried to calm Harry. It was starting to work, because Harry knew that he was starting to relax back into sleep.
Tom felt Harry calm down and settled the boy back against the pillows. A sleepy voice caught his ear. "Thanks, Dad." Tom's heart swelled the slightest bit. Harry had only called him Dad a few times, and every time was during a time of semi-consciousness, but he still used the title. Tom only hoped that Harry felt safe enough to start using it when he was aware. Harry still hesitated on certain things, and this…acceptance of permanent family…was one of his issues. Tom conjured an armchair and sat down to keep an eye on Harry. These dreams concerned him and he wanted to make sure that Harry would sleep the rest of the night through. He needed to make sure his son was alright.
A/N: I wanted to make it longer, but this was an excellent place for me to stop. Next chapter will give you the press conference and various reactions. Remember, give me suggestions for the title for the sequel and I'll pick the one I like the best.