2
Word of the deaths of Albus Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort and of Peter Pettigrew spread like wildfire, causing shock and much concern as, according to all records and reports, Peter Pettigrew was supposed to be dead and Lord Voldemort wasn't supposed to be around – many called it a hoax, others called it perplexing, while more than a few were calling for answers from those who could give them.
Another thing that was being called for, though, was Harry Potter and his location – it had become news of the highest order when he had been reported 'missing' by someone in Hogwarts, most probably Hermione Granger or Ginerva Weasley, and since then it had been a mad search for the Boy Who Lived. All in all, it was starting to turn into a situation that, in the American muggle Marines, could have been nicely classified by the term 'Charlie Foxtrot', and not so nicely termed as something that would get the mouths of many, many people washed out with powerful soap.
Minerva held a magical cold cloth over her brow as she sat in her office, having spent the better part of the morning not only with the Aurors, but also answering questions time and time and time again from the teachers, the students, from parents and from Ministry officials. She was tired, her head hurt, she wanted to go to her quarters and sleep and she needed to change robes, but no, she was now the new interim Headmistress of Hogwarts and she had to do her duty.
There was a knock at her door and she groaned as it opened, "For the last bloody time, no, I don't know what happened to Albus Dumbledore."
"Good thing I wasn't going to ask, then, Professor. Sorry, Headmistress," a voice told her, a voice that was very familiar and made her whip the cold cloth of her face and glare at the person in her doorway.
"Harry James Potter! What are you… where have you… when… how…" For the first time in many years, she was at a loss for words due to anger at a student and it wasn't getting any better with the cheeky look on his face.
Harry grinned at her as he stepped into her office, "As I recall, Headmistress, you are supposed to end a sentence before you start a new one."
Minerva, for a moment, felt like hexing him, but did not as A), both Hermione and Ginny would probably hex HER for that, and B), he reminded her FAR too much of his father and Sirius in the same stroke, so she settled for standing up and quickly embracing him, "Mr. Potter, where have you been?"
He gave her a slightly impish grin as his green eyes twinkled with mirth, "Would you believe… out?"
She glared at him, pursed her lips and took a cross-armed stance, "I am NOT amused, Harry. Where have you been?"
He shrugged and closed the door behind him, "Here, there and the other place." She pursed her lips and glared again but he held up his hands, "Sit down, Headmistress, and I'll give you a few answers, alright?"
She sat behind her desk and Minerva took a moment to look at him – dressed in a stylish black cloak with a muffler at the neck, Harry was looking especially dapper this morning, and while he stood a little taller since the last time she saw him, it was the fact that he stood… straighter, with more confidence, that caught her attention. She then noticed that his face had filled out a little, though he did look a bit pale, and his eyes, the mark of his mother, Lily Evans-Potter, were still the same striking green color they had always been, "Now, Mr. Potter, where have you been?"
"Out from under the thumb of the late and, in my case, unlamented Albus Dumbledore, for one thing," Harry said with a note, no, a streak of smugness a mile wide. "I took something of an unexpected trip this summer and, from what I can tell, my jailor didn't even know it happened. That's not exactly the kind of thing that fills you with confidence in the abilities of another and his group, you know?"
Minerva flushed slightly, "Yes, well, the blood wards were meant to keep someone out, Harry."
He snorted, "I'm sure he had more than blood wards up, Headmistress. Men like Albus only tell people what they ask about, but never everything." She started to object to the way he was treating Albus' memory, but he went on, "Either way, I have a question – how long after I disappeared did Voldemort butcher the Dursley's?" He then paused and smiled in a way that sent chills down her spine, "And, if he did, where can I send a fruit basket of congratulations to?"
"Harry! How can you say something like that? They are your family."
The deadly look in his green eyes took Minerva off-guard for several seconds as he reached into his cloak and removed something, "No, they were NEVER my 'family', Minerva. They were my slave masters, my torturers, and my captors. Not that anyone ever KNEW, as nobody ever checked on me, especially not the Puppeteer himself." He uncapped a flask and, after a brief salute, took a long drink from it before he recapped it, "Ahhh… that's the stuff."
Minerva blinked, "Alcohol, Mr. Potter? You are not of age to be drinking, yet."
He snorted again, this time in amusement, "Far be it from me to tell such a proud Scotswoman anything about drinking, Minnie, but I'm sure you have a bottle or two of firewhiskey stashed in your room or even here in your office, so leave me and my medicinal dosages alone."
"Medicinal? Are you ill? I'll call Madam Pomfrey."
He shook his head and sat back in his chair, the flask vanishing inside of his cloak, "No need, it's just something to help me with years of malnutrition at the hands of the Dursley's, something I was prescribed in France a few weeks ago by a kindly Veela who thought I was a touch on the thin side."
Minerva blinked, "France? That's not possible – we checked for you in every magical community from Portugal to Japan and Siberia to Australia."
He gave her a grin that made her want to hex Sirius by proxy, "Which is probably why you didn't find me. My trip took me a little further afield than I thought, but when I landed for the last time and started my own vacation, I landed in this wonderful little town in southeast Texas. They were quite accommodating and very helpful, and I found out that the American magical communities work more openly with their muggles than we do. Something we could probably stand to mimic one day," he said with a bit of a smirk that, once again, reminded her FAR too much of his father. "Either way, when I landed and got things squared away, I…" he paused and scratched his cheek, appearing to think about what he was going to say for a moment before he continued, "I took a very much-needed walkabout. I saw New York and Miami, Madrid, Paris, and several other places in Europe before I decided it was time to come back home."
Minerva's eyes locked onto his hand and the rings that were there, "Harry…"
He looked at her and smiled, "What? These?" He held his hand up and she could see the crests of not only the Potter family, but also the Black and another crest that was hauntingly familiar, "You would be surprised what you find out when you deal with goblins and are on the level with them, Headmistress. Did you know that Albus ignored and suppressed the reading of my parents Wills since seventy two hours after their death? I couldn't say I was THAT surprised, but when I found out that I was never supposed to go to the Dursley's under ANY circumstances, you could imagine my… irritation with the old goat."
Minerva paled a little, "You… your parents Wills were never read?"
He shook his head, "Nope, and all because Albus threw his weight around." He paused and frowned, "You know, Minerva, I just thought of something."
"What is that?"
"You've never actually tried to confirm that I am me. That's rather poor security protocol, especially for the Headmistress of Hogwarts," he admonished her slightly.
Minerva flushed – damn it! He was right, "You are right, Mr. Potter." She removed her wand and pointed it at him, "Now, remain still." Several minutes later, she had the answers she wanted, "I'm sorry, Harry. I should have this earlier, but with everything that has happened over the past weeks… the deaths…" She shook her head even as she saw him perk up, "Many people have been found killed, butchered in some cases, and most all of them have a connection."
"Confirmed of or suspected Death Eaters," he muttered, nodding. "I read the paper as well as anyone else and, well, I'm sorry some of them got off so lightly. Still, there's a morbid kind of justice in all of it, if you think about it."
Her head snapped up and her eyes spat fire, "What makes you say that?"
"Someone finally decided to do the job of the Ministry, to give the people what they have been longing for. No more revolving doors of justice, no more inept and/or corrupt political figures running the schools or the government, and all of it done by a person or a group of people who can live with the deaths of these people on their conscience." Harry reached back into his cloak and took another hit off of his flask, "All in all, I say good riddance to bad rubbish."
Minerva frowned, her mind clicking along at a good pace, "What has happened to you, Harry? You have never been this openly violent, let along malicious."
"Times change, Headmistress," he said with a snort, "and so do people. Besides," he continued as he stood up, stretching as he did, until she heard something pop and him groan, "maybe now things can get back to what passes for order around here."
She sighed, shaking her head at the change in the Boy Who Lived that stood before her, "What are you going to do now, Harry?"
He frowned for a moment before he shrugged, "I have to go to Gringotts right now and, after that, do some shopping. After that, though, it's up in the air." He then grinned and his green eyes twinkled with mischief, "Why? Were you thinking about asking me out on a date?"
Minerva's indignant response was lost in the gales of Harry's laughter.
AN: Reviews, please.
