A/N: I'm back! The Muse is still hanging out with me. I've seen some really good suggestions for a title. One of them jumped out with me, but it doesn't quite fit. I really like it though. I may have to change the words around. Here's the next chapter!
Harry stumbled down the stairs in bare feet and pajamas. His hair resembled the bird's nest it used to be and his glasses were crooked. His father was already at the breakfast table and looking over the Daily Prophet. Harry settled into his seat and yawned. Breakfast appeared in front of him, an extra large portion of porridge (Harry immediately dumped brown sugar into the bowl), fruit salad, and some eggs. He hoped Nellie wasn't expecting him to eat all of this at…Harry glanced at the clock…seven in the morning. Bloody hell. This break from school would not have any lie-ins if the first two days were any indication. He had woken before dawn everyday and read until he heard his father get up. He did not have an explanation for his new sleeping habits.
Tom studied his son over the top of the paper. He looked awful. The boy had dark smudges under his eyes and his hair would have given Tom something to tease him about if he hadn't looked so worn. The nightmares were bad and now they were affecting his son more than sleeping patterns. Why wouldn't the boy talk to him? What was he seeing that frightened him? "Good morning, Harry." He said to get the boy's attention.
"Mornin'." Harry mumbled around his cereal. Decorum was too much to hope for from a teenager when early morning and breakfast was involved.
"How did you sleep the rest of the night?" Tom asked. Harry swallowed.
"Ok." Tom wondered exactly how well a teenager's brain functioned this early in the morning. "You?" Harry asked.
"Fine." Tom answered. "Are you awake enough to talk?" He asked, smiling a bit at Harry's hair.
"Yeah. I'm just conserving energy until breakfast kicks in." He looked into his glass. "Of course, if you could convince Nellie to give me some coffee, the wait will be shorter." Harry grumbled, staring into the pumpkin juice.
"Nothing I can do, son. Coffee does stunt your growth, you know." Tom told him.
"I think I'm as tall as I'm going to get." Harry said, pushing his bowl away. He eyed his fruit a though it was going to attack him without warning. Tom pushed the bowl towards Harry, earning him a glare from the boy, but Harry obeyed the unspoken command and picked up his spoon.
"Did you know boys can grow until the age of eighteen?" Tom said conversationally, sipping his tea. Harry brightened and then grew suspicious.
"No, they can't." Harry said. "Can I?" He asked. "Really?" Tom nodded and folded the paper next to his plate. "There's one thing to hope for." Harry ate another bite of fruit.
"Indeed." Tom watched Harry for a second. "Harry, we need to talk." Harry put his spoon down and waited. "About your dreams." Harry looked down at his hands.
"What about them?" he asked, not looking up.
"You need to talk about what is bothering you." Tom said, trying to get Harry to look at him.
"They're not important. Just stupid dreams." Harry reached out and picked up his juice. He drank the rest of it and set the glass down. "May I be excused?" He asked. He pushed back from the table and stood.
"Sit down." Tom snapped. Harry started in surprise and grew pale. "Now." Harry sat back down, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean to frighten you." Tom said, reaching out and taking Harry's hands. Harry nodded. "Look at me, Harry." Harry looked up to meet Tom's eyes. "I will never hurt you." Harry nodded again. "Why won't you talk to me about this?" Harry shrugged again and looked down. "Eyes up." Harry looked up again. "Are you willing to talk to someone else about this?" Harry shrugged. "Matthew, perhaps?"
"They're not important." Harry repeated, pulling his hands away.
"Look at me." Tom said. Harry looked up again. "If they are causing this much resistance, and causing you to lose so much sleep, they are important." Tom paused. "I know you've been getting up early, much earlier than is normal." Harry eyes dropped again. Tom wondered if Harry was avoiding his eyes as a defense against Legillmency, since it was one of the few things Tom had learned through Voldemort. "I have charms on the library, telling me which books you have read, so I do not assign them to be read for our lessons. You've been home two nights, one day, and have read four books, one of which I assigned." Tom looked at Harry again. "How early have you gotten up?" Harry shrugged. "Why didn't you come and find me?"
"I'm not a baby!" Harry snapped. "I don't need someone to sit up with me because I can't sleep." Harry folded his arms. "May I be excused now?" The rule of the breakfast table was one of the rules that could not be broken. Neither could leave the table until the other excused him, or they left the table together.
"No, you don't. Just someone to wake you from dreams so frightening that you refuse to talk to me." Harry turned his face to look out the window. "I'm going to write to Matthew and set up an appointment for you. You will be going." Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Tom cut him off. "Don't fight me on this. You won't talk to me, so I have to find alternatives to help you." Harry nodded.
"May I be excused now? I need to get ready for the press conference." Harry said. Tom stood and gestured for Harry to do so as well.
"I'm not doing this to hurt you, son." Tom said, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Do you understand?"
"I know." Harry said. "It's just…" Harry shrugged. "I can't talk about it. I don't think I could." Tom smiled. At least he was willing to tell Tom that much. "I'll go to the appointment. I can't give you any more than that." Tom wrapped his arms around Harry and held him.
"It's all I ask. Just try." Harry nodded against Tom's chest before pulling away. "I'll have Nellie lay out your clothes for you." Harry narrowed his eyes.
"You went shopping again, didn't you?" Harry questioned. Tom only smiled and pulled out the Dumbledore twinkle.
"Just go get ready." Tom said, nudging him towards the door. "I'm sure you'll love it." Harry sighed. Tom was clothes crazy. Too crazy.
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Harry stepped out of the grate and brushed his clothes off. He guessed that practice made perfect, as he had not stumbled that time. "Well, you didn't fall. Congratulations." Tom said as he stepped out of the fireplace behind Harry.
"Thanks. I guess it's just a matter of practice." Harry told him in a low voice. The entire area had stopped and was staring at the pair of them. "Here we go," Harry whispered as Fudge came out of a side hallway flanked by a number of self-important looking people.
"Mr. Potter, so glad you could make it." He paused as he looked over the boy in front of him. No, not boy. Fudge wasn't sure what had changed about the boy standing in front of him, but he was no longer the scrawny child he had been before. It was the way he held himself, or the way he spoke. He had stopped being a child. He was…a wizard.
"Hello, Minister." Harry said, trying to keep himself from cringing due to the contact with Fudge. "You remember my father?" He said in hopes of having his hand released from the enthusiastic politician.
"Of course. How are you, Mr. Riddle?" Harry put his hand behind his back and stretched it. Fudge had a killer grip. "Lunch is about to be served. We'll be dining with the Board of Governors, various Ministry department heads, and officials." Harry stole a quick glance at Tom. He was being put on display. Tom reached out and gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze. Fudge led them into a dining hall that reminded Harry a bit of Hogwarts. Big and stone. He was glad that Tom had picked out his clothing for this. He needed to impress. No more rumors and no more mudslinging. He was Harry Potter, and not someone to be pushed around any longer.
Harry's name was announced the minute he passed through the door. Everyone seated stood and stared clapping. Note to self: Kill Fudge. Harry smiled and waved a little. It was the right thing to do because the clapping grew louder. "Now what?" He whispered to Tom.
"No idea. I think you're doing just fine." Thanks. Some help you are. Fudge led Harry to the head table and Harry almost groaned. He was being seated next to Fudge, while Tom was led to another table. This was going to be a long lunch. Fudge introduced him to the various people and Harry was happy to find Madame Bones at his table and seated on his other side. Dumbledore was down a few seats and he twinkled at Harry from behind his glass. Fudge started into a speech. Harry readied himself to endure.
"A bit long –winded, isn't he?" Madame Bones whispered to Harry while Fudge tried to entertain the gathered crowd with a story that sounded a lot like Vernon Dursley's Japanese Golfer joke. Harry smiled and nodded. "You must be bored to tears by all of this," she gestured around the hall "pomp and circumstance. Long-winded politicians and various government officials do not make for a fun time. This I know from experience." Harry smiled.
"My father promised that I could retire from public life after this." He told her. "Just be a student and nothing else." His smile grew wider. "My NEWT scores may be rather good, with nothing to do but study, may a little Quidditch. No more mad wizards in my future." He took a sip of his drink and turned to her fully.
"Oh, yes. Susan has mentioned your adventures more than once." Harry's eyes grew wide.
"Oh, no. The word 'adventures' makes my life sound like a child's storybook." The two snickered together.
"What happened your first year? The Philosopher's Stone, wasn't it?" Harry hid his laughter behind his hand. " 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' sounds like an excellent tale."
"Stop, stop!" Harry said. "I've got one! 'Parry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets' for my second year." Madame Bones laughed behind her hand.
"Yes, that's a good one. What was it like down there?" She asked with all the curiosity of a child. Harry made a face and shuddered.
"Ugh. Slimy. Dirty. Devoted to snakes. Not too homey." Madame Bones let out a giggle like a school girl.
"The secret chamber of Salazar Slytherin, and you describe it as ' not too homey'." Harry grinned.
"It wasn't." He assured her. "Quite foul, really. Especially the bones. A basilisk carcass won't help much, either. It'll smell even worse." Harry and Madame Bones smiled at each other and then started laughing like conspirators. A flash from the side caught Harry unawares and blinded him. "Oww." He moaned, rubbing his eyes to remove the after image. The reporter scrambled away after a quick 'thank you, Mr. Potter.'."
"Yes, those photographers love candid shots, Mr. Potter."
"Please, call me Harry. Mr. Potter makes me uncomfortable." She gave him an indulgent smile and patted his hand.
"Certainly, Harry. Now, the adventure for your third year… 'Harry Potter and the Mischievous Murderer'?" Harry's face fell. She doesn't know how close we actually were.
"Please, Madame Bones. Sirius Black was innocent and my godfather. He didn't kill anyone. He died. This time last year." Madame Bones reached out and took Harry's hand in understanding.
"Come speak to me sometime soon, and I'll see what we can do about getting his name cleared. I'm not the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for nothing." She said, giving him a smile and wink. "Anytime you want." She promised.
"Thank you." Harry tried to find the right words, but found his brain failing him on this one. "I – thank you." He finished sincerely. He relaxed when he saw Madame Bones understood what he was trying to say.
"No problem at all." She told him. They were interrupted by Fudge.
"Now, the person responsible for your celebration of a new era, who needs no introduction…" Oh, no. He wants me to stand up and give a speech. I can feel it. "Mr. Harry Potter!" Fudge tugged him to his feet. "Mr. Potter, how about a few words?" How about not? Fudge pointed his wand at Harry and said "Sonorus!"
"Thank you, Minister." Now what? Harry looked out at the various members of government. "I'm sure you'll all forgive my tardiness for this celebration. For those of you who went to Hogwarts, you'll remember the school nurse, Madame Pomfrey." A few all-knowing chuckles came from the floor. "She released me only a few days ago, and left me with strict instructions to do nothing until this afternoon." Harry leaned over a bit and looked at Madame Bones. "It is after noon, right?" Madame Bones laughed.
"Only just." She answered, looking at her watch.
"Oh, good." A few more laughs came up from the floor. "I have a feeling that she would not have approved of me being here until just now." He paused. Okay, established a rapport. Now follow up. "It is good to be here, and be able to celebrate, not just the death of Voldemort, but the end of irrational prejudice among wizards and witches." Polite applause scattered about. Make a point. "What is really important, however, is not that Muggles will stop being killed, but the issue of superiority of one person over another, due to birth only, has been brought to the magical community's attention. Do not allow the lesson of Voldemort go to waste. No one is superior over another in terms of blood, gender, or race. If we do not act to stop evil, we only assist in its propagation and continuation. Thank you." Harry sank back into his chair amid thunderous applause. Madame Bones leaned over and squeezed his hand.
"That was well done, dear. Very effective." Harry smiled and thanked Madame Bones. He looked at Tom, who whistled and looked proud enough to burst. Harry hoped he wouldn't. That would be disgusting. Dumbledore toasted Harry and twinkled at him. Harry pointed his wand at his throat and mumbled "quietus".
"Thank you. I hope I made my point." He told Madame Bones.
"More than adequate." She said. "You made them think. That is not easy to do with this lot." Harry smiled and leaned over to her.
"For third year, 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban'." Madame Bones smiled.
"Oh, good one!" Harry grinned as dessert appeared.
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"These are the central offices, where most of the national and international interactions take place. If you're interested in a career in diplomacy, this is where you'd be working." Harry wondered why Fudge thought that this tour was for the purpose of giving career information and advice. Fudge was irritating, but the real annoyance was the photographers. They were trailing Fudge, Harry, and Tom like ducklings. "Now, to the Aurors' department." Harry had a feeling that Fudge was using this as a photo opportunity. He could almost see the headlines. Minister Advises Boy-Who-Lived, Fudge and Potter Career Questions Every room they entered, Fudge would somehow position Harry so that it looked like the two of them were very close, almost like a father/son relationship.
"Is there anything you can do about these photographers, Minister?" he asked in a whisper.
"I'm afraid not. Having them take pictures now will reduce the time they will want later." Harry sighed and nodded. Helps your reputation, too. "Ah, Auror Shacklebolt. I'm bringing Harry around on a tour for some advice on his future career choices." Kingsley gave Harry a look that reminded Harry of "oh, really?'. "Could you give us a little demonstration of what it takes to be an Auror?" Harry heard a snort from the side where a lot of Aurors were standing. It was Winfield.
"I'm sure we could arrange something. Mr. Potter, why don't you step up here?" Fudge sputtered a bit while Harry stepped forward.
"Mr. Potter, I don't think…" Harry cut him off with a look.
"I won't hurt him." Harry said with a smile. Tom smiled at Harry, giving him permission to do what Kingsley wanted. Shacklebolt gave the photographers some wonderful material for their cameras as he showed Harry different wand grips (which Harry already knew), a few shield spells, (which he also knew) and one offensive spell (which he had known since his fifth year). The photographers blinded him with their flashes and requests for smiles. Harry was disappointed when they didn't duel. Kingsley called all the Aurors to attention and the entire crew saluted Harry, which Harry returned with a smile. The photographers loved that. "Tom!" Harry whispered. "I'm blind. Lead me." Harry groped for his father's shoulder. Tom grabbed the hand and put it down.
"Stop being factitious." Tom hissed back, turning and following Fudge out the door.
"Oh, like I really know what that word means!" Harry answered back with a playful smile. He knew the word. He just liked playing with Tom's mind.
"Note to self: make Harry read dictionary." Harry laughed at Tom's statement and followed Tom.
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A crowd of reporters milled about the room where lunch had taken place. Harry was watching them from behind a side door. "I want to walk in alone." He said as he looked over himself in a mirror. He looked different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was something about the…clothes? His posture? His eyes darkened as he recalled the reason for all of this, how had Madame Bones put it? Pomp and circumstance. He had killed a man. A twisted, possessed man, but still a man, none the less. He was a murderer, and they all loved him for it. Tom stepped up behind him. Even his father loved him for what he had done.
"You look fine. Just remember your posture." He smoothed Harry's shoulders. "I'm going in with you, right behind you." Harry wanted to argue but Tom's look told him that it would not be wise to challenge his father on this. He nodded and looked himself over again.
"Mr. Potter, it's time to start." Harry gave Fudge a short nod and took a deep breath. I have done something no one else could have done. No one.
Tom watched as Harry gave himself a mental pep talk. Harry had grown into a young man sometime in the recent past. When did that happen? More importantly, where was I? Harry took on a different appearance, one of knowledge and competence, of authority. He's not a little boy anymore. Harry turned to Tom and smiled. "Ready, Tom?" No, not a little boy anymore, but he still needs me. His heart warmed.
"Yes, son, let's go." Harry turned around and threw back his shoulders. He swept through the door (he would never live it down if Professor Snape found out about him trying to imitate the billowing robes trick) and faced the podium Fudge had arranged. The reporters all jumped to their feet and started calling his name. Photographers dropped to their knees to take pictures of him. Harry motioned for them to quiet down and sit down.
"I'll take one question from each of you." Harry announced. "I reserve the right not to answer if they're too personal." Hands waved in the air. He motioned to one he had never seen before.
"Mr. Potter, is it true that You-Know-Who is dead?" Harry smiled.
"I'm sorry, who?" They had to learn that a name was nothing more than that: a name. The witch looked perplexed.
"He Who Must Not Be Named." She answered. Harry smiled at her refusal to say the name.
"Everyone has a name, ma'am. I think that you should use his." Harry smiled at her as she appeared to make up her mind.
"Is V-v-vol-Voldemort really dead?" She shuddered. Harry gave her a wider smile.
"Yes, ma'am. Voldemort is truly dead, once and for all." He answered. And I killed him. "Next question, please." He pointed to another reporter.
"How did you know where to find him?" He asked. Harry paused and wondered how to answer that question. He chose the direct approach.
"He sent me a message, telling me where to find him." He told him. He pointed to another hand and settled in for a rather lengthy discussion. They did not seem satisfied with his dodging.
"Did you kill V-Voldemort?" a wizard asked. Harry frowned.
"It was me or him." Harry answered. The press all mumbled at that answer. "I was outnumbered. What would you have done?" He asked. Another reporter raised a hand. He pointed.
"Hello, Harry." Rita Skeeter stood up from her place. Harry wondered where Hermione was with her jar. "May I ask you a personal question?" Harry refrained from saying 'you would' and sighed.
"I reserve the right to not answer, that and if you are using a regular quill." She smiled and held up a normal quill. "Very well."
"Who is that man?" She pointed to Tom. Harry smiled and glanced at Tom before turning back to the press.
"He's my father." He said. "He adopted me." He answered. "Next question, please." Hands came up again. "You."
"When did that happen?" Harry thought back.
"In my fourth year. Next question." This was going to take forever at this rate.
"Why did you wait so long to acknowledge the relationship?" Leave it to Rita Skeeter to introduce such a topic.
"Security and safety reasons." He answered. "I can't give away more than that." He hoped that they would drop it. "Next question, please. Try to make it one not about my personal life." He admonished. A few hands went up. Harry pointed at one.
"There are rumors, Mr. Potter, that you destroyed the Dark Lord to only put yourself in his place. Is that true?" Ah, the Ministry plant. There was one in every crowd.
"Assume a place that robbed me of my parents and a normal life?" Harry asked, looking thoughtful as though he had not considered the idea before. "Come, sir. You must be more intelligent than that to believe such a blatant lie. What a puerile idea." He dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. The photographers snapped a picture. "Next question." He pointed to another young reporter.
"Minister Fudge spoke openly against you last year, but he's been largely silent about you this year. What happened to cause such a change?" Harry smiled. The photographers flashed his smile.
"He saw Voldemort and me in the same room." Harry said. He pointed to another reporter.
"There are talks of you working against the Ministry and joining a clandestine group committed to the overthrow of the Ministry. Are they true?" Ah, they were talking about the Order of the Phoenix.
"Where do you people come up with things like this?" He asked, with a perplexed look on his face. "I have not joined a group committed to the overthrow of the Ministry. The last thing I joined was a school club." He said, just to put the man in his place. Several reporters laughed. He pointed to a rather nervous looking witch.
"What are your career plans? It is rumored that you want to be an Auror." Harry smiled at her to put her at ease. Several cameras flashed again.
"I'm keeping my options open." He answered. "I haven't really decided yet." He gave an inaudible sigh and pointed to another one.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" Harry dropped his face into his hands. Harry felt rather than saw the flashes from the photographers.
"Do you all really care about that?" He asked. He was chagrined to find several reporters nodding emphatically. "No, I don't." he told them. He pointed to another reporter.
"Do you have any plans for one?" he shook his head, trying not to blush. Tom stepped forward.
"Last question." He said, motioning for Harry to not contradict him. Harry didn't. He was ready to stop. He pointed to a reporter.
"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" she asked. Harry paused and chased away some very bad thoughts. A few flashes blinded him.
"I'm well, thank you for asking." He mustered his strength for a final bright smile and wave as he left the room and went back into the side room. He was shaking. Why was he shaking? He pulled his tie loose and sat down against the wall, taking a deep breath in hopes of pulling himself together. The door shut behind Tom and he stopped in front of Harry. He knelt down and pulled Harry to his feet.
"Come on, son. Let's get you home." Harry nodded and stood again. Fudge stepped forward.
"I have just a few questions." He told Harry. Harry stepped away from his father and frowned at Fudge.
"You've had ample time to ask them." He said, barely keeping his anger in check. He felt an odd twinge. Oh, great. He was getting a headache. "Owl them to me, Minister. I'm done for today." He walked away from Fudge, Tom following behind him. Harry reached the Floo first. He dropped his Floo powder. "Riddle Manor!" He swirled away in green flames and stepped out into the sitting room and sank into his favorite chair. He was asleep by the time Tom came through.
A/N:Eleven pages! I'm so happy. Of course, I'd be happier if you all review and tell me what you think. Oh, don't forget sequel titles!