The Soldier

Chapter Two: Where Harry Meets the Minister and Makes an Enemy

Harry's young life changed drastically from that day onward. Kingsley Shacklebolt allowed Harry to say goodbye to his relatives, and told him that from now onward he would not be able to see them again except for special occasions, like Christmas and so on. This suited Harry just fine. Harry sat in silence in front of his relatives, Aunt Petunia's grim face was lit up with a triumphant smirk, and Vernon too seemed pleased. Dudley, being only four, had no grasp of the siutation and started to whine about how hungry he was. Harry was glad he was going to get rid of his ugly relatives, and start a new life, a new adventure, journeying into the unknown, into the realms of wonder and amazement.

Magic, what is it like, Harry wondered. Am I particularly good at it? Do I need money to buy a wand? I should ask them.

"I'll need at least a hundred pounds," Harry told his uncle, looking him straight in the eye and behaving confidently. He knew how to act because he had overheard Vernon trying to teach Dudley how to negotiate. "To buy a wand and food. And if you don't give me the money, I'll come back one day and get revenge."

Vernon's face first turned white as fear entered his heart, but then his face filled with red rage as he roared, "Who do you think you are boy? We took you in out of the kindness of our hearts and you try to demand money from us?"

"I told you once, and I'll tell you again, but this is the last time. Either give me the money," Harry said coldly, "Or I'll come back when I've learnt a lot of magic, and I'll do terrible things to..." Harry looked at Dudley for a long moment. The nervous parents got the idea and Aunt Petunia urged Vernon to give Harry the money, which he did so with great reluctance and heated muttering.

Harry took the bills and pocketed it in his trousers. He would use the money to buy a wand, and some robes like the wizard who was waiting outside, and he would use it to buy chocolate and candy, because the Dursleys never gave him any and he always wanted to try some. Harry grinned inwardly but showed no expression on his face as he wondered what else he could extort from his relatives. "I'll need a lunch of course. Aunt Petunia, why don't you pack me a nice filling lunch for the day?"

Aunt Petunia's lips tightened in a furious expression, and Harry let some of his smirk out, but glared Aunt Petunia into submission. She made him a lunch, and Dudley shifted nervously in silence as he did so, somehow grasping the status quo had changed.

"Dudley, go to your room," Harry said softly.

"Why should I, you're nothing but a freak, you can't order me around," Dudley said heatedly, "And don't think you can just threaten my parents like this because I won't let you. I'll fight you!"
"I said, go to your room," Harry punctuated each word with a withering glare, "Or I'll turn your hair blue like I did to the teacher."

Dudley sneered, "You didn't do that, freak, that's unnatural and such things don't exist."

"Dudley, go to your room," Vernon said, white faced. "Just go."

Dudley glared at his father, and ran up the stairs. "Fine, I'll just play with my new toys."

Harry turned to Vernon, "This is goodbye," he said, "I'll never see you again, and you likewise."

"Make sure it stays that way, brat," grumbled Vernon, "We're rid of you from this day forward."

"There is one last thing I need from you though," Harry continued. "You keep a gun in your bedroom closet, I've seen it. I want that gun, in case the wizards try to do something mean to me."

Vernon sneered, "Let them do mean things to you, let them hurt you. Why should I care?"

"Because they may hurt me, but they will not kill me. They wouldn't go through all this trouble just to lure me into a murderous situation. They could have done it long ago. No, they will give me what I want but I need to be able to defend myself should I find myself in a situation that is not to my liking." Harry walked over to the TV, and pushed it so it rested on the very edge of the stand, almost ready to fall. "The gun, Vernon."

"You don't even know how to use it," Vernon said, glancing worriedly at the almost falling television, which was new and quite expensive, "You'll just hurt yourself with it. Be reasonable, Harry, you can't protect yourself against those people." Something akin to pity lit up in his eyes. "Stay here, don't go with them. You don't have to."

"I don't have to, but I want to. And I need the gun for my protection. If they try anything, if they try to hurt me I will kill them."

Harry said those words so emotionlessly, so mercilessly, that Vernon felt a cold chill run up his spine at Harry's mad empty green eyes and he went up to the bedroom to get the weapon Harry wanted just as Aunt Petunia came toward Harry carrying a plastic bag filled with food. She had overheard everything and as she handed Harry the food she thought it fit to give him a bit of advice. "They're useless without their wands," she hissed in Harry's ear. "If they try to hurt you grab their wands and run."

Harry nodded and waited for Vernon to come down. Aunt Petunia dissapeared back into the kitchen, her eyes a bit watery. Vernon thundered down the stairs, carrying a brown rectangular box. He opened the box to Harry, showing him the gun and he explained the mechanics of how to use it in brief fractured sentences. Then he said, "Good luck, Harry, and don't you dare show your face here again."

Harry nodded, and put the box concealing the gun in the plastic bag. He turned, and started to walk out the living room, when Dudley's backpack caught his eye. He grabbed it, and stuffed the food and the gun into the backpack which also contained some story books, a pencil box, and a few coins.

Harry watched Vernon's expression heat up with anger and indignation but Harry ignored it as he walked out the door, and hoped to God that he would never see his relatives again.

Kingsley waited outside, staring motionlessly at the gray sky. "Are you ready to go, Harry?"

"Are we taking the bus? Or the train?" Harry asked, "I hope you don't expect me to walk unless the Ministry is really close by."

Kingsley chuckled softly, "No, Harry, our mode of transportation is magic."

Kingsley grabbed Harry's shoulder and pulled out his wand. Taking a deep inward breath, he began to explain how they would get to the Ministry, something akin to teleportation, of which Harry had read a story about in the school library. Harry itched for the gun in his backpack, because he hated to be touched, but he let the man wave the wand in the air, and he felt a squeezing sensation. He closed his eyes, and opened them when the strange vertigo feeling stopped. He found himself in the interior of a large room, where there were a few men and women waiting and lounging around.

One of them was bearded grey and smoked a long pipe, and had blue eyes. Harry immediately indentified him as a dangerous man, because he had a look about him, a sort of aura, a something indescribable that Harry couldn't exactly explain but he knew somehow intuitively that the man was a killer, a murderer without mercy. And though Harry had said brave words to Vernon, he wasn't sure he could kill someone easily. He wasn't sure that he could go through with a murderous act, in part because of the fear of the consequences, and in part because although he had a tough exterior, he was inwardly a moral person forced by circumstances to do immoral things like steal Vernon's money.

They welcomed him with open arms, and made him comfortable. They conjured food from thin air, and had a welcoming lunch. Harry ate slowly, but with great pleasure at the wide variety of foods offered. When Kingsley handed the Minister the scroll that Harry had signed, he had a sudden thought that worried him because he heard Vernon talking about signing contracts with clients and how he had put a small clause in that brought him great profit, a clause which the client hadn't bothered to read thouroughly.

Harry cleared his throat and instantly the table silenced. "I want to read the contract, and I want a lawyer present to explain it to me."

"Ah Harry," said Minister Fudge with a sly smile, "You already signed it see, and Kingsley assures me that your gaurdians were present to oversee the signing."

"That's a lie, the man over there forced me to sign it," Harry declared confidently, "My relatives were not allowed in the same room as me when he gave me the contract."
Kingsley looked down at Harry with much surprise, and a deal of anger, "What?" He hissed, "You spoiled little shit, your relatives were there!"

Harry sent him a cold look and he said, "The man who brought me here is not only a liar, but he also tried to injure me. A child abuser like him should not be in the very presence of respectable people like you and I. Instead he should go to prison! He hit me in the arm when I wouldn't sign it." Harry lifted the sleeve of his tee shirt and showed the bruise he acquired in a fight with Dudley on school grounds. "So I didn't sign the contract willingly you see, but rather he forced me to sign it. Why then, should I not get a lawyer?"

Minister Fudge glared at Kingsley and hissed, "Is this true? As an auror your behavior is despicable. You were told to handle this situation diplomatically and you were picked for your level headedness, and you... you..." He spluttered in incoherent rage. "You hit the boy-who-lived!"

The others seated at the table, all wearing rich clothes such that Harry had discerned they were powerful men and women looked equally outraged and proceeded to tear Kingsley to shreds while the auror tried in vain to preserve his reputation. He gave Harry one last glare and fled the room when the Minister announced that he was fired and wouldn't work in the Ministry ever again.

Then the Minister turned toward Harry, who had waited in silence throughout the ordeal, and said, "Harry, my boy, you see you already signed the contract and it is magical in nature so you can't unsign it. I'm afraid what's done is done."

Harry glared at the minister as he realized his ploy didn't work and he had just gained an enemy in Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Well then, Minister, what makes you think I will go along with the terms of the contract when I was forced under duress by one of your henchmen? You are a villain!"

The others at the table gasped, and some leaned forward in great interest as Harry folded his arms over his chest. "I will go to all the newspapers I can find and tell them of your tricks and your devious ways. You are no better than Voldemort!"

There was instant silence, and such a silence heavy with emotion in the eyes of the dining men and women of high positions in the Ministry, that Harry wondered if he had made a mistake.

The dinner finished quickly, also in silence, and nobody would say another word, but rather kept their head down and mumbled to each other in whispers. Harry didn't like to be ignored but he knew he could do little else. He wondered again had he made a mistake, but he knew that they were taking advantage of him by not letting him even read the contract.

Harry was led to a room that looked similiar to a hotel. He liked the luxury of it but he couldn't get a good night's sleep. He was worried about the contract too much. He looked through his backpack and pulled out the gleaming black gun. He went back to the short explanation that Vernon had given him and he unlatched the safety pin on the gun. He took aim at a flower put but he didn't fire. Instead, mentally, he visualized himself using the gun to kill the Minister but he knew it would get him nowhere because he had no way to escape the Ministry. The man - Kingsley - had apparrated him into this building, and Harry did not even know where it was located, but he knew it was underground because he couldn't see any windows. He stretched his senses, while holding the gun, and found two bodyguards situated outside his room, standing immobile. With closed eyes he sensed their slow even breathing, and found them to be drowsy and almost asleep but yet still aware enough to stop Harry from leaving.

Harry sighed, and tried to sleep some more but found himself wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

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AN: I know in the previous chapter I said he would meet his first death eater. Rest assured that event shall indeed come to pass but for now be patient my readers because the pacing must take precedence over scenes of excitement. In the meantime ladden me with your reviews and encouragement, and make me fat over a diet of praise and goodwill such that I can write with great happiness that there are people who want to read this story and eagerly await my updates. Also feel free to criticize, for they are the scalpels that shape the statues of artistry and turn blocks of granite into Michealangelo's David.