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A/N: Thanks for reading and please review. Sorry about the long update wait.
Harry Potter and the Soul of Chaos
Chapter 5 – Plans and Plots
We cannot guarantee victory, but only deserve it.
Churchill
With the wedding done with and his coming of age birthday less than a week away, Harry began to plan in earnest his campaign against Voldemort.
He had always liked the word campaign, and that was what it was, but a better word would have been simply war. He was preparing for his war against Voldemort, and all that that would entail. Harry had no illusions about this, however – he was most likely doomed to die – but he'd make sure he was remembered before the end.
Remus had explained it to him days ago that he was, as the werewolf had put it, a power unto himself. One of the power centres in the wizarding world, having outlived even Albus Dumbledore in the war against Voldemort. Harry wasn't exactly sure how far his influence spread, but if it was as big as Remus had said, then it would be far enough for one aspect of his plans.
One aspect, yes, one small aspect in the grand scheme of things – but something he hoped would grow and spread his influence even further. Those were his thoughts as a Ministry owl landed softly on his shoulder. It took flight again as Harry removed the cream coloured envelope from its leg.
He was sitting outside of the Burrow, in the empty chairs in the empty pavilion that had yet to be cleared away yet from the wedding two days ago. It was early morning, but the day was already starting to get warm as the sun sparkled on the top of the trees in the forest a quarter of a mile away.
Harry broke the wax seal on the envelope and read the response to his enquiry yesterday with a growing smile, and a fuzzy feeling of excitement in his stomach.
Dear Mr. Potter,
In regard to your letter of Monday the 22nd of July, 1996, please find below the corresponding law to your enquiry:
Article 54, para 3.7: By law, and reference under law, all news and media proprieties are required under the Prophet Agreement to register for a licence to print if, and part thereafter, the printing exceeds one hundred and fifty (150) copies.
What this means is that so long as you do not print more than one thousand copies of a news, propaganda, or informative paper, then you are not required to apply for a licence to do so.
The Ministry of Magic thanks you for your enquiry.
Angus Teatooth
Ministry Law Officer
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Harry smiled, slowly but surely, and pocketed the letter. Phase one of his diabolical plan could now be set in motion.
Too long, he knew, had the world at large lived in ignorance of Voldemort and his crimes. Sure, they knew a lot, but not the whole truth – something they had a right to know. The Ministry censored the worst of it, and they controlled the Prophet. Using his influence, not to mention his galleons, Harry intended to change that.
And have some fun doing it.
He already had thoughts for the first issue, but again he was getting ahead of himself there.
His paper would show the world that a lot more was being done against the Dark Lord than they thought, and that he was taking an active stand. Reading the Prophet, Harry had never seen one article about any individual standing, and working actively against Voldemort.
He'd show them that, if they believed in peace, they had to stand their ground.
The Ministry would probably hang him for it and move fast to change the law after the first issue, but the damage would be done by then, and with any luck pubic opinion will be so much more on his side. The paper could go underground, change its name...
He was getting too far ahead of himself.
First things first, he needed to find a real estate agent and ask about securing a few properties in both the magical and muggle worlds. An office in Diagon Alley and a backup building buried deep within muggle-London. Grimmauld Place was his, he knew, but so did too many others so that was out of the question as a secret location.
Walking back to the house, Harry hoped no one was in the sitting room as he wanted to be gone before anyone could convince him otherwise, or ask to accompany him. He intended to get a lot done and could do it faster alone. Ron and Hermione were upstairs asleep, most likely, and Ginny should be as well. It was early in the morning.
So Harry clicked his teeth together in surprise when he entered the Burrow through the side door in the kitchen and found Ginny, dressed for the day, twirling her wand lazily between her fingers at the breakfast table.
"Caught you," she said.
"Blast," Harry cursed. "What gave me away?"
Ginny shrugged. "I heard you getting up and then I saw you out in the field from my window. You were all dressed up but with no place to go, Harry, so I planned ahead. Where are you going?"
Harry shrugged now and sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "Diagon Alley. I'm gonna go buy a part of it."
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Which part?"
"Something in the main street that anyone visiting the alley has to pass," Harry replied. "I'm going now, the shops should have just opened. Do you want to leave your mum a note?"
Ginny thought about it and then nodded. She rushed from the kitchen and scribbled a hurried note with a quill and ink in the sitting room, before coming back and placing it on the table in clear sight.
"Let's go then," Harry said, heading over to the fireplace. He took a pinch of floo powder from the pot and tossed it down, smiling at Ginny as he disappeared and, in the familiar blur of green flames, appeared in the Leaky Cauldron. He bent his knees a little before landing and was happy that he only stumbled minutely.
Ginny soon followed him and, avoiding the gazes of the witches and wizards in the pub at this early hour, he offered her his arm which she took and they made a fast line for the alley.
Again, at this hour, it wasn't that busy, but Harry and Ginny still moved quickly down the sparsely populated alley. Harry had his wand attached firmly in his wand holster and could summon it with a flick of his wrist, and his eyes scanned the shops and shoppers quickly, looking for any threats.
There were none, and the two of them moved fast alongside the apothecary and then went passed Gringotts. Hidden away near Knockturn Alley, and behind Ollivander's, was the Diagon Alley Lease Office. A small building, with only two storeys and a selection of available property posters in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade in the window. Harry glanced at that for a moment before entering the office.
The walls were white, the floor was white, and scattered across it was mahogany furniture and, on the walls, portraits of the alley and wizarding property. A spiral staircase in the far corner arced its way up and through the ceiling to the second floor.
Seated behind a desk nearby, near what was obviously the waiting room – named so for the chairs and selection of old magazines on a coffee table – was a young witch, reading a copy of the latest Witch Weekly. Harry almost winced when he saw his face on the front of it.
"Can I help you?" the witch asked.
Harry led Ginny over to the desk and took a seat in front of it. Ginny took the other one.
"Hello there," Harry said, giving the secretary his best winning smile. "My name's Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and Witch Weekly's poster boy. I'm here to see about buying a shop so I can start a smear campaign against anyone who gets in my way, specifically the wanker calling himself Lord Voldemort."
Ginny snorted laughter and held her hand against her mouth to stop it, as the secretary gasped and dropped her magazine – whether because of Harry or the fright at Voldemort's name she didn't know – but it was hilarious none the less.
"Mr. Potter," the woman breathed, her eyes jumping to his picture on the cover of Witch Weekly. "I... I'll go get Mr. Andrews, the property manager..."
"I'll be happy to wait," Harry smiled. "Do you mind if I read your magazine while you're away?"
"Not at all, sir," she squeaked, and then blushed at her squeak, before practically running for the spiral staircase across the room.
"Well," Harry said once she was gone, and reached across the desk for the magazine, "at least she didn't put her elbow in the butterdish."
Ginny turned as red as her hair and then smacked him in the arm – hard. "Git," she said.
Chuckling, Harry flicked through the magazine until he came across an article about himself. His laughter filtered away to nothing. Ginny, out for revenge, snatched the magazine from him and scanned the article with barely suppressed mirth in her eyes.
"The Secret Life of Harry Potter," she quoted the article. "Harry enjoys longs walks down the beach at sunset—"
"I've never even seen the ocean," he stressed.
"I never knew you had a soft spot for auburn haired girls," Ginny grinned, reading on.
Harry snatched the magazine back and tossed it over the desk and into the opposite chair, as a tall man walked down the spiralling stairs, his hand extended in welcome before he was even within ten feet of Harry.
He stood up and shook it. "Mr. Andrews?"
The man, who was a giant at about six and a half feet tall, grasped Harry's hand in return and shook it vigorously. He had a long moustache that hung down to his chin and sideburns that were cut sharp horizontally against his cheeks. Grey hair, grey eyes, and a beaming smile made him seem friendly.
"Mr. Potter," Andrews exclaimed. "What an honour! What a true—"
"This is Ginevra Weasley, my business partner," Harry motioned to Ginny and, finally, Andrews let his hand go and took hers.
"Miss Weasley," Mr. Andrews nodded, shaking her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, too."
"Hi," Ginny smiled.
"Let's get down to it then," Harry said, after the pleasantries were done with. "Mr. Andrews, I noticed one or two properties in the alley this morning were available for purchase. I think most of the buildings that have been boarded up were sporting signs for your office. I'd like to buy one, please."
"Of course, sir," Andrews said, all business. "Please step upstairs to my office and we'll have a look at the available properties."
Harry nodded, smiled, and took Ginny's hand as they followed the tall man up the spiral stairs and into a more comfortable looking room. It looked lived in. Leather sofas, strewn with files and papers, portraits hanging askew on the walls and a desk simply overflowing with parchment scrolls.
Mr. Andrews flicked his wand and several dozen files flew across the room, out of the chairs before his desk, and fell in slump on the floor. Light from outside streamed in through the windows which looked out over Gringotts.
"Now," he said. "As you said, Mr. Potter, with the current climate and atmosphere in the wizarding world there are a lot of available properties springing up all over the world. Namely, in Diagon Alley, where you expressed your interest, we have a dozen stores of varying size and cost available."
Harry and Ginny took their seats as Mr. Andrews, who seemed to know where everything in his messy office was, flicked his wand yet again and a dozen brown files appeared on the desk before him.
"The war has sent prices plummeting, I bet," Harry said, thinking fast. He was extremely wealthy, he knew, having both access to his personal fortune and the mountains of galleons Sirius had left him. He might be able to make some sound investments if he was careful, and if he won the war.
Mr Andrews sighed and waved his hand towards the window. "An all time low," he said. "Great if you're buying, but terrible for selling. I've bought back twelve leases in the last year alone, as investments for the future, and it has nearly bankrupted me. Albus Dumbledore's death hasn't helped any either. I doubt my investments will pay off..."
Harry muttered a silent prayer as he thought of Dumbledore, closing his eyes and squeezing Ginny's hand. She squeezed back.
"Value just keeps dropping?" he asked.
"Aye, it does," Andrews sighed.
Harry nodded. "So... before the war, what would have been the price of... say, Ollivander's?"
"I don't own that lease. Ollivander took off on his own – he still owns that property."
"Still," Harry said. "How much would it have sold for?"
Mr. Andrews linked his fingers together and Harry could see the numbers whirring through his head. "Two hundred and fifty thousand galleons to buy outright. Three hundred galleons quarterly to lease."
"And now?"
The property manager laughed weakly. "Now... fifty thousand galleons to purchase, and twenty galleons a month to lease."
"That bad, huh?"
Mr. Andrews just shook his head. "Azkaban fell and that was another blow both to the war and the economy. If this trend continues... I could sell you my offices here for two knuts, and think I made a profit."
Harry shared a silent look with Ginny in which he came to a decision about the future, and how he would move on from here. "Can I see the property you have available?"
Mr. Andrews sighed and nodded, handing the first folder to Harry after glancing at the title. "This one is my finest. In prime location just three stores down from the wall into the Leaky Cauldron. 150 square metres on each floor– it's magically expanded on the inside." Here Andrews sighed again. "Before the war, it'd cost three hundred thousand galleons. Now, taking everything into account, you could purchase it outright for sixty thousand galleons. A steal..."
Harry flipped through the folder with a frown of thought upon his face. He looked at the pictures, at the second and third floors, and then imagined all that empty space being put to a good use. He made a decision.
"I'll take it," he said. "What else have you got?"
Mr. Andrews just nodded. He felt a marginal relief that he had gotten rid of the drain on his funds. He had purchased it for ninety five thousand galleons. A loss, but it could have been worse.
"Very well, Mr. Potter," Andrews said. "The remaining eleven properties are not as spacious as this one. Seven are located in Diagon Alley, whilst the other four are abandoned in Knockturn Alley."
Harry accepted all of the folders from the man, but raised an eyebrow when he mentioned Knockturn Alley. "I would've thought that business would've been booming down that alley," he said. "What with Voldemort doing the rounds again."
Andrews shivered at hearing the name of the Dark Lord, but to his credit did not squeal like most were apt to do. "There is more to the alley than the dark arts, Mr. Potter," he said. "The deeds you hold were once an apothecary, another was a book store, and I believe one was a junk store holding odds and ends and whatnot."
Harry nodded. "Perhaps I could put them to some use..." he mumbled. He didn't have the time to look through each and every file, but he recognised the boarded up storefronts of the ones he did.
"You know what," he said, glancing at Ginny. "I reckon we should buy them all."
That made Mr. Andrews sit up a lot straighter, a gleam of hope in his eyes. Ginny just shook her head with a smile and shrugged. "Whatever you reckon, Harry. I don't know your master plan, so I can't help."
Harry chuckled. "I'm making this up as I go along," he said and then turned back to the property manager. "Ring 'em up, Mr. Andrews. I'll take them all, and whatever you got going in Hogsmeade as well."
It took Mr. Andrews a few minutes to put a contract together in order for Harry to sign, and in that time Harry had a look through the five properties available in Hogsmeade. Three were along the main street whilst two others were houses, not shops, buried in the suburb of the village. Extremely cheap, of course, because of the war. Harry threw them on the pile of title deeds he seemed to be collecting.
"Are you mad?" Ginny whispered, away from Mr. Andrews hearing. "Perhaps you should buy Hogwarts next! What, by Merlin, could you want all of these shops for?"
"Just the beginnings of a plan up here," he replied, whispering too, and tapped the side of his head. "Besides, I doubt this'll even dent the interest payments Gringotts pay me every year. I'm putting it to good use, Gin, you'll see."
Mr. Andrews finished the contract and papers needed to sign a few minutes later. He looked like all his Christmases had come at once. Seventeen bad investments were being taken off his hands, and his business would survive. There was just one small matter to take care of...
"Mr. Potter," Andrews said. "Your guardian needs to sign these papers, too, I'm afraid. As you are still underage."
Bugger, Harry thought. He would not return to the Dursleys! His birthday was only a few days away and—
"Why?" he asked Andrews.
"Well, sir, and it is simply a legal formality, your judgement, in the eyes of the law, is not sound until you become of age." Andrews rubbed his knuckles nervously, obviously not happy with explaining this to Harry Potter. "Your guardian needs to sign this as proof that I did not cheat you out of your money."
Harry was thinking fast again. Earlier that summer, once he had told the Dursleys he was leaving, they had practically packed his bags for him and thrown him out into the street until the Order arrived to take him to the Burrow. So... technically... his guardians had thrown him out, and he had no guardian.
"I don't have a guardian," he told Mr. Andrews. "All of my family is dead, killed by Voldemort, and I am currently staying with friends that have no legal control over me. With Dumbledore dead I don't think anyone does. I'm an adult, Mr. Andrews. And I've no one to sign those papers."
Mr. Andrews nodded. "Still," he said, "and I sense that it would be best if you owned these properties without any loopholes or... infractions against standard procedure. Would I be right if I said that the Ministry would not be happy with the use these buildings would be put to?"
Harry didn't answer the question, but his eyes sparkled in that small office.
Mr. Andrews took that as his answer. "Then, sir, I suggest you wait a few days until your birthday to purchase these buildings. Any contracts signed before your seventeenth could be declared void by the Ministry, and they could seize the titles and deeds to the property in question."
"Bastards," Harry growled, thinking and once again rearranging his plans. "I need those buildings now, or at least the first one. I need to get underway..." he finished quietly.
"Well, Mr. Potter," Mr. Andrews said thoughtfully. "Technically, I own these buildings. They are mine to do with as I would... if you sign these papers now, and also a bank note for their sum total, then I'll hand over the keys today so you can use them, and not put the forms in for processing with the Ministry until the 31st."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "So they'd still be yours for the next few days," he smiled. "Can I borrow your quill?"
"Certainly, sir."
Harry signed the long winded contract, glancing it over once. He trusted the property manager, but that was no reason to sign the thing blindly. Everything seemed in order, and he let Ginny read it too, so he signed it. Next came the bank note, and Harry had to fill in his vault number and write in the price to pay.
All seventeen properties, the most expensive costing sixty thousand galleons, cost...
"Five hundred and forty two thousand six hundred and sixty seven galleons," Mr. Andrews smiled. "They'll be legally yours one working day after your birthday. So that would be Thursday, August 1st. Let me just go get the keys for you..."
With a portfolio of title deeds, the originals, under his arm and a ring of keys in his pocket – seventeen of them, each with a label for convenience sake – Harry headed back out onto Diagon Alley with Ginny on his other arm. He was happy with his purchases, very happy, and would put them to good use.
There was still the problem of securing some property in the muggle world, but that could wait for now. He would get to it eventually, after purchasing a few more items for the propaganda aspects of his plan. Namely a printing press or two, a lot of parchment and ink, and a few other delights that should set Voldemort's anger aflame.
But for other parts, other items, he would have to explain his needs and whatnot to Remus and a few other people that could help him. He was sure they would because, after all, with Dumbledore gone they had no one else to turn to but the only one left alive who had ever faced Voldemort and lived.
Harry Potter was the hope and salvation of the wizarding world, and he felt something big on the horizon. As he walked hand in hand with Ginny back up to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry knew that everything was about to change. It was a feeling he had felt more than once in his life, and it always meant trouble.
This time, it was really big. He didn't know what it meant, but the future was on his shoulders. There were Horcruxes to find, plans to begin, people to befriend and Dark Lords to slay. But he wasn't alone anymore – he had friends alive to help him.
Harry smiled at Ginny, and kept an eye out for danger, and just prayed and hoped that she survived the coming months and years. He really hoped the war wouldn't last years, but it was a possibility. He'd do everything he could to keep her alive.
But there was a darker side to him as well...
Whilst he would do anything he could to keep Ginny alive, he would also do anything he could to see Snape, and Voldemort, annihilated.
Harry had never wanted to have to kill, but just thinking now about all the pain and insanity the Dark Lord had caused, and the betrayal Snape had wrought, he could have struck them down right then without regret.
His anger was fuelled by the fall of Azkaban and the lack of response from the Ministry. But what could he do? He had to do something, if those in power wouldn't. The world, and its wars, were his playground if he just put his resources towards the right goal. This newspaper he planned on printing was a worthy goal, but a small one.
It didn't reduce the number of Death Eaters Voldemort had, or physically harm the madman in any way. Violence alone would have to do that, but Harry knew he wasn't that exceptional when it came to magical power.
And, as always, he came full circle to the Horcruxes. To find them and destroy them was his life's purpose. But he had precious little to go on... Dumbledore's advice and a crumpled piece of parchment... the task seemed all but impossible.
"You worrying about the future again?" Ginny asked, frowning at him.
"Er... no," he replied, lying miserably.
Ginny's eyes flared. "What have I told you about that?"
Harry smiled slyly. "Something about not counting your chickens till they've hatched... or something? I don't know. I was probably lost in your eyes at the time."
Ginny blinked, hesitated, and then slowly smiled. "Very smooth, Mr. Potter," she said. "And fast, very fast. Someone should give you an award for that. Is that all you can do, though?"
Harry shook his head, chuckling. "I'm available for Dementor banishments and I can slay the occasional Dark Lord, Gin, you know that."
Ginny shook her head and ran her hand through his hair as they entered the Leaky Cauldron. "Let's head home so mum can kill us both for leaving without protection."
Harry paled. "I think I'd rather stay here and wait for something to attack me than face your mother."
"Be brave, Harry," Ginny said, squeezing his hand.