Chapter 5: Aftermath and alterations

Harry awoke with a warm feeling in his stomach. He'd done it. He'd actually been elected as minis…President of Great British magical affairs. He'd added the Great British part because the American President of Magical affairs had thrown a hissy fit. It had been amusing to watch the American stalking around the room with a beer yelling, "Bloody British usurpers…What's your name again?"

Harry had simply lifted his fringe.

Once dressed Harry headed down to the great hall and sat next to Katie.

"Hi," she said brightly.

"Hello. So how long have we got?" Harry replied, barely stifling a yawn.

Giggling, Katie said, "About an hour. Ron went ahead with 'Mione and Ginny in tow to 'arrange certain necessary security ground rules'."

"I can't believe they moved it forward," he said, to Katie's strong ascent. "Gits." He added.

And so, despite his ruffled appearance, Harry filed onto a stage in front of 30 or so reporters at 10 o'clock to regale them with tales of his life. Or so they hoped. He had no doubt whatsoever that every single one of them believed that they were going to be the reporter to snag a biography deal with him. Gits, he thought to himself.

"Harry? This is Susan McLaggen of the Daily whisper. We'd like to know how far you will go to stop the Dark Lord."

Harry sighed, then began in a patronising, if pitying voice, "First Susan, I would advise you never to call him that in my presence. Second I would advise you only to call him Voldemort, Mouldy Shorts or Tom Riddle," Susan blanched slightly, but Harry continued anyway, "As to your specific query, I am willing to throw every single blood traitor and racist pureblood I find, meaning Death Eaters, into Azkaban."

"Blood traitors? What are you talking about Mr. President?" asked a bald reporter in the corner.

"I am talking about half-bloods who have joined the pure-blood racists and thus betrayed their blood. People like Voldemort. And stop flinching when I say that you filthy cowards."

The reporters didn't know what to make of being called "filthy cowards" yet they did seem to get Harry's message: He wasn't afraid. Everyone else could rest easy.

The rest of the press conference was mainly about the reform, Harry's life and times and his staff. Luckily Ron had only cleared the conference guests for an hour with Harry, so they were ushered out at 11 o'clock sharp. Once the last camera had stopped flashing, the presidential staff looked at each other warily and collapsed into their seats. It had already been a long day and it had barely begun. They still had to oversee the moving of the departments to their agency HQs and brief the builders as to what the Ministry needed to look like now. It looked very much as if the day was to get longer.

Once all their tasks had been completed, the returned to Hogwarts, where Hermione remarked that Ginny looked ill and insisted on taking her to madam Pomfrey straight away. Harry meanwhile headed for the headmaster's office and gave the new password "Skiving snackbox" with a humoured thought about how much joy Fred and George would take from this.

Once in the office Harry briefed Dumbledore on the last 3 day's happenings. Once he was finished the headmaster remained silent, so Harry voiced something that he had been thinking on for the last few days.

"Professor, I think you should disband the Order."

"Why Harry, "began Dumbledore, clearly astonished, "would I want to do that?"

"Because there's no need for civilians to be sneaking around doing things now that the Ministry is on side, is there?"

"And what if I have my own reasons?" Dumbledore replied, inclining his head.

"Then I trust you will share them with me or kindly not speak in riddles."

"And if I do not wish to share them with you?"

"Then you are nowhere near as wise as I thought you were Dumbledore."

"That's 'sir' or 'Professor Dumbledore', Potter," Dumbledore said coldly, "And I don't like that tone of yours."

"Then you will be so polite as to call me Mr. President then professor."

There was a stony silence for several minutes, as 2 of the world's most powerful wizards ever stared at each other in a power play. Before a victor could be found, however, Madam Pomfrey's head appeared in the fire and said something about Ginny and "the first one in 2 decades. " Getting up, the two men raced to the hospital wing.

What they saw was not in anyway repulsive or shocking, but what madam Pomfrey was showing them on a little instrument by Ginny's bed was. It was a bat. And it was being formed by a machine which the sleeping Ginny's finger was in. Despite a lack of knowledge, Harry guessed what this meant.

A/N: Production will slow to about a chapter a week herein

Review replies:

Demonwoman: Here you go. And you were right, as if you hadn't guessed.

Pyromytprincess: Yes I have. It's my favourite so far.