Chapter twenty six: and the envelope please…

When Harry straightened up from the Floo he was greeted with the sight of a pompously satisfied Minister for Magic, his entourage, various members of the Press, Kingsley and Tonks and Headmaster Dumbledore. The silver haired Headmaster was wearing deep blue robes with golden trim and a dusting of golden glitter over the top. It was the most sombre that Harry had ever seen the man dress, and it worried him.

"Harry!" Fudge beamed and made as if to step forward. Dumbledore held his arms out and Harry stepped into them, hugging the older man gratefully. He was expecting to have instructions whispered into his ear or something, but Dumbledore simply folded him into a strong hug, such strength radiating off the elderly Wizard that Harry could ignore the flash bulbs and whispered comments.

"How are you dear boy?" Dumbledore asked as he let Harry step back a little though his hands remained on Harry's arms.

"Worried," Harry replied honestly, "The stuff in the Prophet has been pretty unbelievable Professor. Is it even possible?"

"But of course, Harry," Fudge interrupted and stretched a hand out towards Harry who leaned away from the touch nervously, allowing himself to be shepherded into a space next to Dumbledore. The Minister was too much a politician to allow himself to show how the action angered him, but Harry could tell that the man took the slight personally. He wasn't bothered about that - Fudge was no friend to Harry, no matter what past favours the Minister had dispensed as part of his political machinations.

"Harry, we have been able to piece together some of what had happened the night that You Know Who visited your parents house, and the discovery of your parents has allowed us to confirm some of what we supposed to be the truth. The rest, dear boy, can only be confirmed by the surviving witnesses, but as you were too young to recall the event and You Know Who is unlikely to volunteer any information, I fear those suppositions will never be one hundred percent confirmed."

Stung by the Ministers use of Dumbledore's term of endearment, Harry glared at the man and shot him down where he stood. This was going to be hard enough without having to fend off 'Uncle Fudge'.

"Actually Minister, since you forced me into close proximity with Dementors in my third year I do remember some of that night - mainly my mother pleading for my life, and my fathers final words to her before he sacrificed himself for our safety," his voice was cold and cutting, as was his glare, "I even remember hearing the Killing Curse being cast over my crib, though I had always assumed that it was the curse that Voldemort had cast on mum that I was remembering."

He already knew that revealing those details would only corroborate what the papers had reported, and the slap at Fudge and his handling of the matter was valuable to the Order. Fudge needed to be taken down a peg or two, and the Boy Who Lived was the perfect choice for that particular task. Not only would the revelation of the memories excuse any awkwardness in this initial public meeting, but it would hint to the papers that the Ministry and its ham handed actions had put Harry through some rather difficult ordeals. Public opinion was a tricky thing to manipulate, and as long as Harry didn't lay it on too thick they'd achieve their goals. Or that was what Snape had said when he'd taken Harry to one side and discussed strategy for this first meeting. Other matters had been discussed as well, and Harry was in line to set up some serious pay back.

"Well, well, in the benefit of hindsight," Fudge smiled and changed the topic, as Harry had known he would, "But today we are here for a joyous occasion, one that I am honoured to be present for Harry; I know that there have been several conflicting reports in the Press, but I am pleased to announce that we here at the Ministry have unravelled the mystery of the Dark Art that was performed at your childhood-home just lately. You Know Who was undoubtedly involved; in fact, he was most likely casting a rite to complete a spell he had set into motion at the time of his attack on you all those years ago. He managed to retrieve your parents from the Void they had been cast into, though they managed to escape him almost immediately and went into hiding. We have managed to locate them, and today they would like to meet you."

Harry was glad that Dumbledore put his arm around Harry at that point, as his knees felt a little weak and his stomach was churning. He shifted closer gratefully and looked at the door that Fudge was pointing to. The Potters stood there, dressed in a rather splendid set of highly fashionable robes that the Minister had no doubt provided. Harry himself wore a set of nice robes that Molly had made him especially for today; their homemade folds were a warm and comforting weight around his body now.

Lily burst into tears as the cameras went mad and reporters started shouting questions. James looked rather shell shocked at the chaos while Fudge smirked in satisfaction. Dumbledore nudged Harry forward and he stumbled over to the Potters. Lily wrapped her arms around him, her body shaking with sobs and he hugged her tentatively. He hated seeing people cry; it tore at him dreadfully. James embraced them both, gathering Harry to his chest and knotting his hands in Lily's robes.

"Harry," James sighed and Harry let them hold him, let the Press take its pictures, let Fudge smirk and plot to exploit him, all the while wishing for Ron.

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Dumbledore had intervened when the hug broke up. He'd taken one look at Harry and cut things short with consummate skill. The Potters had to go back to Grimmauld Place with Harry to preserve the fiction that the Potters were one little happy family. The Minster had wanted them to spend some time in a Ministry controlled location but Harry had worried publicly about his studies and Fudge was forced to allow them to return to wherever it was that Harry called home.

The family was waiting in the kitchen, with Snape also sitting in a corner sipping at tea while Draco hovered in the doorway trying to look casual. Harry moved into Ron's arms at once, letting his lover's scents cleanse him of all those stares and speculation.

"Cub?" the gentle question had him pulling his face out of the crook of Ron's neck to reassure the worried werewolf.

"I'm ok Moony," he smiled, "Fudge was just a bit tricky to deal with."

"Hmmm," Sirius didn't seem convinced, "Well, Mr and Mrs Potter, you're in the room you had before, if you'd like to unpack. Dinner will be ready as soon as Harry gets off his arse and makes it."

"Yeah yeah, I hear the bark and don't fear the bite," Harry shot a crooked grin at his godfather and peeled away from Ron reluctantly. Ron's eyes promised him a hot bout of sex later and Harry smiled before heading to the pantry, rummaging for ingredients and inspiration.

"What are you in the mood for, Uncle Severus?" he called over his shoulder, glad that he could hide his face for a moment to get his expression under control.

"Hmmm," Snape droned as Lily and James both choked and Sirius barked out a laugh. Draco also choked in surprise, which Harry counted as a bonus, "I shall leave that to you, nephew."

Harry turned and gave his parents an innocent look, secretly enjoying the shell-shocked expressions on their faces. It was clear that they were doing everything in their power to refrain from making some kind of comment or protest - after all it was their inability to accept Harry for who he was now that had led to the current uncomfortable situation.

Lily forced a smile and led her stunned and unhappy husband from the kitchen by the elbow, her grip white knuckled. The moment the door was shut Snape hit it with a privacy spell and the Marauders and Ron cracked up. Even Draco's smirk was less pointed and more amused than usual.

"Brilliant," Ron chortled, "Professor, your delivery was perfect."

"Thank you Weasley," Snape bowed his head regally, "Now then Potter, what is for dinner?"

"I can knock up bangers and mash," Harry turned to survey the pantry again, "With steamed veg."

"That will do," Snape approved and Ron snorted once more before moving to help peel and chop vegetables.

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