Disclaimer: So not mine guys...
AN- Wow! This chapter is looooonnnnnggggg, longest I've ever written. I hope you like it! And please don't forget to review!How do you guys feel about a Dursley outtake, detailing exactly what's in store for Vernon, Petunia, Dudley, and Marge? In that same outtake would be a conversation between Ginny and Mr. Weasley about just what Molly had in store for her daughter.
I would like to thank EVERYONE, all of my readers, and especially my reviewers, and the ones who are most graciously PMing me with ideas for helping me. Every word truly means a lot and I would love to thank each and every one of you for your help.
Kings Cross Station was the same as ever; hustling and bustling with all sorts of activity. The screaming and hollering of children and parents being reunited, the screeching of owls, hissing and clawing of cats, along with the croaking of Trevor, who was tucked safely in Neville's arms beside Harry. They made their way slowly through the roiling crowd, and finally parted ways, each saying their goodbyes in turn. Neville when he spotted his grandmother, giving Luna and Harry each a hug in turn. And finally Luna spotting her father with a cry of "Papa," giving Harry a peck on the cheek and wishing him an exciting summer in her characteristic dreamy voice before flouncing off, saying she'd write to him. Harry assumed she would with her rainbow owl. His affectionate eyes followed her form until her long blonde hair finally disappeared into the crowd.
Walking through the crowd carrying his shrunken trunk in a pocket, Harry was surprised to take notice of the Weasley matron scanning the crowd, he hadn't noticed her at first. But apparently she had noticed him.
Mrs. Weasley had a pinched expression on her face, and when Harry approached seemed gather herself, throwing her shoulders back and lifting her chin, looking Harry in the eyes.
"Harry James Potter, you will remove that curse from my son, this instant!"
Apparently the woman had noticed the... changes affecting her son recently, and was wasting no time at all with her conversation with Harry, like the Gryffindor she'd been in school the woman was going straight for the throat. Harry looked at her coldly, not even wanting to dignify such a thing with a response, wondering if Mrs. Weasley knew what her son had done. If she was innocent of her son's crimes then he would hold nothing against her, however if she'd been aware of her youngest son's exploits... then that was a whole other story.
"That boy has done nothing except be your best friend since you were eleven years old! And this is how you repay your best friend! By cursing him! Calling him a traitor! After all my family has done for you!"
"Done nothing except be my friend? After everything you've done for me? Well, your family certainly has an amusing way of showing friendship. I may not have much in the way of friendship however I am fairly certain that drugging someone against their will and shoving them full of poisonous potions for over five years isn't something bosom best pals regularly participate in." Harry's voice was coldly sneering, she was taking her son's side in an argument the boy had already tried and failed to win. The woman was obviously blinded to what her son had been doing, or delusional. Take your pick.
"We welcomed you into our home!" Molly screeched, "We took you to the World Cup! I practically acted like your mother! And you couldn't put up with a few potions! You should be grateful we weren't repressing your magic! Suppressors would have been a good idea if Dumbledore hadn't gotten their first, then maybe you would have learned some manners!"
Harry stopped dead, aware that the crowd around them had all stopped their whispering in favor of staring at Molly in horror. She'd wanted to give a child suppressors! Why didn't she just kill him herself then, with the damage that those things would inflict on someone so young. Especially a child! It was vile, disgusting, unthinkable. She could be thrown into Azkaban for PLANNING such a thing much less carrying it out.
"Are you aware of the... shall we say... legal repercussions of what you've done, Molly." it wasn't really a question, she obviously didn't, he would enjoy thoroughly making her aware of them.
The fiery haired woman drew herself up, sneering at him, "You're right, it's a crime what you've done to our family! You gave Fred and George money to start that wretched store! And you've destroyed your friendship with Ron! I don't know what more you could do to us!"
Harry smirked, emerald eyes flashing, "Oh, I could think of a few things, Molly. Would you like me to introduce them to you?" he continued before she could form a response, "Long gruelling Ministry hearings, an even longer trial that'll cost twice as many galleons, disgrace throughout the wizarding world for doing such a thing to a child, your public credibility torn to shreds by eager reporters like say; Rita Skeeter. And finally when all the legal dues have come and said their part you'd be locked up... in Azkaban for a number of things I'd imagine. Child abuse, child endangerment, attempted murder- you know, for poisoning me for the past five years. What do you say, Molly? Do you want to know what else I could do to you... legally of course." he finished hurrieded... not wanting her to get the... wrong idea that he might be threatening her.
She'd been a Gryffindor however, and subtlety was never their strong suit.
"You're no good!" the red head whispered heatedly, high spots of color in her cheeks, "just like that godfather of yours! Always wanting to tell you things! He should have just left it to his elders! There was no reason for you to get involved!"
Later, witnesses to the public spectacle would recall feeling as though the temperature had dropped quite dramatically. But it was the face of the boy they realized to be Harry Potter which startled them. His eyes, which they'd been sure had been green one moment seemed to flash another color for a very brief moment. Brief enough many believed it to be a trick of the light. Others knew better. Harry Potter's eyes had turned a blood red crimson.
Molly recoiled.
Harry stepped forward, closer to the woman. Close enough he could smell the sweat on her flesh, he wrinkled his nose, and spoke to her a single sentence in a voice that conveyed the true measure of his thoughts. It was a voice of ice, just on the side of silky, almost like a snake's hissing.
"You'll get your dues, and I'm going to be there for every second of them."
Then he leaned back and said in a loud voice, so that all the gawking witches and wizards on the platform would hear him.
"I would like you to leave, Molly." Simple and straight to the point, and something that every other being on the platform would back him up on. She'd practically tried to kill him. Harry didn't believe that the wizarding world would take too kindly to some woman attempting to murder the Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-telling-the-truth-about-You-Kn ow-Who.
However, it seemed that the fiery haired witch didn't want to go quietly.
"This is public property," she sniffed, "you can't make me leave."
Harry looked at her in amusement, letting the emotion shine clearly on his face so that she could see it.
"You're right, I can't make you leave, however I'm not entirely positive that you'll remain safe and sound the longer you stay." he tried to make her understand, "You practically tried to kill me, Molly! Bloodroot is poisonous, toxic if consumed, you've been giving that and quite a number of other things that are no less beneficial for over five years. And you've just been shouting about how proud you are to have done it. Do you really believe everyone on this platform will share your viewpoint? Or will they back me up?"
At this point, Harry stopped. Took a breather, and let the stout woman look around, gaze up at the other witches and wizards present. Let her see their stance on their argument that had been so public; just a single look into the bystanders would have given all the information she needed.
There had been a lot of turmoil in the wizarding world during the past few days, a whole slew of changes, some that many approved of and others that many were dead set against. Naturally many wanted someone to blame, it was a natural human emotion, to try and make others take the fall for their own faults. This was natural.
With that one look around, Molly saw anger, hatred, disgust, revulsion, horror, and pity along with a slew of other emotions which she saw to be directed at Harry, and not her, sadness, pity, compassion, empathy, and horror.
Before she Disapparated, Harry left her with some last parting words, making sure that no one other than her would hear them.
"It's your turn to be screwed over."
After that... charming incident, Harry considered himself to be in quite a foul mood. It wasn't everyday one learned that they'd been jerked around by; their two best friends, the headmaster, and the woman who'd practically been a surrogate mother to him. Maybe, that was why he was so acutely angry. These people weren't just a few random Hufflepuffs he'd said hello to in the halls that had done this. These people were his life. These people had kept him afloat in the worst moments in his life. These people had betrayed him, that's why it had been so agonizing. He'd shared a lot with them, the best and worst times of his existence.
And those were the things they'd taken advantage of, his weaknesses, his strengths, they'd taken everything he'd had to offer and then demanded more. They were like Dementors, the lot of them. They'd sucked the happiness right out of him, the joy he'd once felt in being a wizard; drained dry and left out in the sun to bake.
Luna had been the water in his desert heat, and more recently Neville had as well. Without them, Harry feared the things he might have done, not only to others, but to himself as well. When he'd been immersed in his own pit of despair, and digging himself deeper every day, he'd considered some dark things. Things that, if they had worked, wouldn't have produced a winner on either side. Just caused irreparable damage to the ones he loved, and possibly killed him, had he been successful. In those moments, he'd never been more tempted to use those newfound skills he'd received in conjuring, to produce something... sharp. And cutting.
They'd pulled him out of his, dragged Harry's head up from where he'd been drowning so that the first breaths of fresh air in what seemed like forever filled his lungs. They'd been the guiding presence, holding his hand and leading him out of the darkness. For every day they spent, just talking, he was grateful. They would probably never know how much they'd done for him, it was something Harry planned on spending the rest of his days thanking the two of them for.
It took quite a while for the crowd to disperse, but eventually Harry was able to pierce through a temporary gap, and plunge through the barrier. What he saw surprised him, it was a suspiciously large number of Order members just fifty feet in front of him, across from barrier.
They appeared to be there to greet him. There was Mad-Eye Moody, looking menacing as ever, a large bowler hat had been pulled down over his magical eye, though Harry doubted the man would have any troubles seeing out of it. Tonk's with her signature bright bubble-gum- pink hair, and Lupin standing next to her looking a bit worse for wear. His face pale and wearing a long threadbare overcoat. Spearheading them were the two Weasley twins; Fred and George. Both seemed to be bursting with excitement, and a dark look of anticipation roved their features. Something about their faces reminded Harry of the day Mr. Weasley and the twins had come to take him to the world cup, right before they'd pranked Dudley.
This could go two ways, he decided, badly for him, or... interesting if he managed to point out the Dursley's to them.
Lupin smiled warmly, "Hello, Harry."
Harry observed him warily, wondering if the older man was going to try and force him to return home with the Dursley's.
"Hello, Moony. I didn't expect to see you all here."
"Well," Moony smiled, a sharp smile that showed a bit of teeth, Harry might have imagined it but he thought the other's eyes might have had an amber spark in them. It set his teeth on edge.
"Well thought we might have a... little... chat with your aunt and uncle before letting them take you home." Harry said nothing, if they wished to believe he'd return home with those people he'd let them keep right on believing it until the day they died. He wasn't going near those sorry excuses for people, much less, he wouldn't have touched them with a fifty foot pole wearing a biohazard suit.
Moody limped forward, gruffly growling out," That'll be them, will it, Potter." and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
Harry smiled kindly, "Just follow the stench of fat, gossip, and drills and it'll lead you right to their little hell hole."
Remus looked shocked at his language, both the twins snorted, but Moody just growled again and said, "Shall we do this then Arthur."
Mr. Weasley nodded enthusiastically, crossing the station floor over towards Vernon Dursley, approaching the man and taking his hand enthusiastically in a hand shake that Harry suspected would have been a long time coming from his... uncle.
"Good afternoon, you might remember me from last year, my name's Arthur Weasley."
Vernon went red, then purple, then a deeper shade of puce, and glared at Mr. Weasley, no doubt remembering the other demolishing the living room just a year previously. Aunt Petunia looked horrified and Harry was heavily amused to see the way her eyes kept darting around the station like a trapped mouse searching for escape. More likely she was searching around for people she knew, God help her if the neighbors ever caught a glimpse of her standing in such... ill reputable company. Dudley, the baby whale, had his hands pressed against his bottom, and was trying to hide behind his mother. Which was a lot like an elephant trying to hide behind a giraffe. Amusing, but entirely ineffective.
"We wanted to have a few words, Dursley," Mad-Eye intonted gruffly, "about how he's to be treated when he's in your house."
Vernon seemed to draw himself up to his full height, "I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house-" the man sounded almost haughty.
Moody growled, cutting his uncle off, and Vernon looked shocked, as though he couldn't believe anyone would ever have the gall to actually growl at him.
"I expect what you're not aware of would fill several libraries, muggle." grunted the ex-Auror.
George snorted, "Good one, Moody, don't you think, Fred?"
"Oh, absolutely, George, I mean I was just telling you yes-"
"Actually," Tonk's interjected, "we haven't come here about that, the point is, that if we found out that you've been being awful to Harry..."
"and you can be assured that we'll hear about it." Lupin said
"Of course, we will!" said Fred now, indignantly.
"We wizards-"
Aunt Petunia whimpered.
"Have our ways!"
"And it's not just wizards," George, or was it Fred continued on blithely.
"There are sooo many, many, man-"
"many, many, many,"
"MANY worse things out there!" they finished in unison, with identical devious Cheshire cat like grins.
"I mean where do I start, Gred?!"
"Well, Forge, there are centaurs, and vampire, and goblin, and gremlins, and dementors, and dragons and doxies and boggarts and billy-wigs, and hippogrifs and hortlumps an-"
"Of course," Mr. Weasley said brightly apparently completely ignoring his sons, who continued in their tirade of magical beings "even if you won't allow Harry to talk to us on the trellly-telly-fellytone we'll know. Now that... now that his godfather has tragically passed on we must assure ourselves that Harry's being well treated at your house."
Fred and George continued on in their list, questioning whether flobberworms were a threat.
"And if we get even a hint that Potter's being mistreated in any way, you'll have us to deal with."
Outrage seemed to envelop Vernon, his mustache seemed to do a little jig of rage.
"Are you threatening me with bodily harm, sir." the man said it so loudly two people just exiting trains turned to stare.
"Why yes I am Dursley,"
Moody looked pleased, whether was because Harry's uncle could understand three syllable words, or pleased that a muggle like Harry's uncle had grasped the, rather obvious, fact of what Moody might to him so quickly, especially with a mind as... special (like the muggles called it) as Vernon's.
Vernon sneered contemptuously, "And I you think I'm the kind of man who can be easily threatened?" he demanded.
Moody looked up at him, tilting his bowler hat back, so that his revolving magical eye was put into light. Only to see Vernon leap backwards with a shout of terror and collide with a passerby's trolley. Eliciting a number of stares and complaints from others.
Moody looked a mixture of amused and smug. And as the Order members said their goodbyes quietly Harry glanced at his three relatives. Aunt Petunia seemed to be having a staring match between herself and Tonk's electric pink bubble gum hair. Something which seemed to offend the woman to her core. Dudley still looked terrified, but was turning piggy eyes toward Harry that reflected anger. And Vernon, well, he looked completely enraged, his face was already purple. Once the Order members were gone (Gred and Forge both "kindly" waving goodbye to Dudley as well) he rounded on Harry.
"Got your godfather killed now did you, well you know what I say to that. Good riddance! The world needs as much of your kind dead as possible! I hope that mad man took a whole trove of your lot with-" abruptly the man cut the words draining from his mouth like a faucet. A gurgling choking noise was coming from Vernon's mouth, his face turned an awful magenta color, and the rotund man's mouth made fish faces as he gasped for air. Finally Vernon noticed that his nephew's eyes were glowing, and a slight sheen seemed to surround him. Nothing that anyone more than a pace away would notice, but the air seemed to warp around the boy, like when heat rose off the pavement in waves making one's vision go blurry.
"I don't appreciate you talking about my godfather that way, Vernon." his uncle's only response were more desperate gasping noises as his attempts to breath in the oxygen his body so urgently craved. To his right Dudley was watching horror struck, and on the left Harry was sure that Petunia would have collapsed into shrieks and sobs of terror had she not been clutching her son so tightly.
They were making quite the scene on the platform. Although the Order members were long gone, pedestrians were opening staring at the four of them. And Harry knew it was only a matter of time before Petunia became screaming. So Harry took in a deep breath, trying to control the anger he felt, reigning it all back in with his last ounce of control. Eventually Vernon stopped gasping, and his face died down to his natural red faced complexion, the trembling throughout his body stopped, and Harry calmly turned to the crowd that had begun to form,
"My uncle has had a seizure! Someone call an ambulance!"
He himself knelt down to Vernon's side where he'd collapsed on to the concrete station floor, all around him the green eyed teen saw a variety of frantic feet running around in his vision. All rushing to call an ambulance or a doctor or the police, he'd told them to do something and now they were doing it; sheep. Muggles really did have a lot in common with wizards, although Harry knew that many wizards would have been murderous to hear such a thing.
Harry wasn't yet done with his uncle, "Do I look to be a person who can be easily intimidated, Vernon?" there was no response, unless you counted a mixture of helpless gasping and whimpering a reply.
"You should be thankful, in the wizarding world you're nothing, not on the same level as a human being, you're an ant to crushed underfoot. Maybe it's time I've started taking the wizarding perspective on muggles." he paused. Looking his uncle in the eyes.
"Because just a few hundred years ago I could have killed you without any repercussions on my person. But now... now I'm going to obliterate you, Uncle, and I'm going to do it in your own world, after all you and your family as my relatives deserve nothing more than my undivided attention."
Grimmauld Place, was lonely.
This was a fact something felt even more acutely now that he was completely alone. Dimly remembering back to the Christmas holidays when Sirius had trampled around his family home, bellowing out God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriff and the top of his lungs. At the time the emerald eyed teen had been experiencing mixed emotions, on one hand being relieved at Sirius change in character and overjoyed that the elder man seemed just as enthusiastic about his godson staying with him as Harry had been.
On the other hand Harry felt an inescapable need to drive a blow into Sirius head, to get his godfather to shut up! Because now both he, the rest of Number 12, and most of the dead in their graves knew what hell sounded like.
And he'd loved every moment of it. Those precious few weeks that they'd spent together was something Harry would never get back.
He was exhausted, putting his trunk away took seconds, and collapsing into bed took even less time. Harry was in Sirius' room, he couldn't bear to go back to the one he and Ron had shared over summer.
Curling up in large bed he felt right at home, surrounded by Gryffindor banners and colors, with Quidditch posters decorating the walls. And it was with a mixture of sadness, that Harry discovered everything in Sirius' room seemed to smell like him. Like a mixture of vanilla and nutmeg, gentle but with a kick to it, that reminded him painfully of the other man.
He didn't want to think about that, didn't want to think at all really. The past few days had been far too eventful for him to consider, and he could spare twelve hours before finally addressing them, and the effects they'd have on his life.
Dozing off on the large bed, the messy haired boy couldn't prevent his problems from tumbling around in his head. It felt like they'd taken up a permanent residence there without waiting for him to make a lease, Harry wished he could give them a thirty day notice.
And despite all the activity going on upstairs, Harry's emerald eyes slowly but surely slipped shut, and his mind tumbled into oblivion. Oblivion, apparently suited his brain, as it almost instantly set to work on his problems. Taking him back...
Dumbledore's office had been repaired to its original state, it had been as if the confrontation with Harry Potter had never even occured. Every broke fixture and ornament had been repaired, and there were no traces of any damage.
The Headmaster had summoned him after the feast, Harry hadn't wanted to go but the man had practically accosted him on his way out of the Great Hall, inviting him up for tea. Again. It had been a repeating occurrence over the past few days. Harry hadn't particularly enjoyed tea before his encounters with the Headmaster but now he hated the watery substance with a fierce passion. And those damn lemon drops he offered to everyone within a one mile radius, those lemon drops Harry would swear up and down had been spiked worse than punch on a muggle's prom night.
There was no way in hell that stuff was just muggle candy, and if it was then Dumbledore was Big Bird, he was Elmo, and when Voldemort joined the party he could be the Cookie Monster.
"Tea, Harry my boy?"
"No, thank you Headmaster." stop calling me 'my boy'... it's creepy, people might get the wrong idea.
Dumbledore sighed, gazing down at Harry from overtop his half moon spectacles. His blue twinkling eyes were disappointed.
Harry coughed.
Made a point of checking his watch.
"Well, Headmaster, it's getting kind of late and the train leaves for King's Cross tomorrow..." he hinted not so subtly, "maybe it's time that I turned into bed."
Finally the wizard spoke.
"Harry I had hoped by now that you had had a chance to reconsider your position since the time we spoke in my office after that tragic event at the Ministry."
He looked up, a flicker of true confusion tumbling into him.
"My position, Professor? What do you mean by that exactly?"
This time it was Dumbledore's turn to view him with confusion, a grandfatherly expression of patience gently calming his features.
"Well, my dear boy," again, people, wrong idea, is any of this being picked up on your Legilimency scans, "after recent negative events in the Wizarding World concerning Lord Voldemort I would have assumed that you'd want to speak to me about your future, Harry." nope not a not a word.
"I'm sorry sir, but I'm not entirely sure I understand. What is negative about the recent events? Haven't you been reading the Prophet? Voldemort is saving wizarding kind, he's setting up new institutions to protect us." Harry's voice was faintly sarcastic, whether this was directed at Dumbledore or Voldemort the Headmaster was unsure.
"Mr. Potter, for your own safety I wish for you to return to the Dursley's this summer."
"Well, I apologize Professor but I'm afraid i don't understand what concern it is of yours whether or not I return to those people."
Dumbledore served him with a grandfatherly smile, eyes twinkling over his glasses.
"Harry, my boy as your Headmaster it is my job to look out for my students-"
"When said students are under your care Professor however during the summer months I do not reside in Hogwart's, and I'm afraid you have no authority in providing me with a summer placement. You may, by all means make suggestions, however it will be my decision whether or not to take them."
A brief flash of... something crossed Dumbledore's eyes. Harry wasn't positively sure of what, surprise or anger maybe, that he wasn't so easily cowed into accepting thinly veiled demands.
"Harry, I must insist then that you take my request. After the Ministry was usurped by Voldemort it is very possible that you may be on the top of his list. Harry," Dumbledore's eyes pleaded for understanding, "be reasonable, Tom has named himself Minister for Magic, with no opposition posed by the Ministry, which he has corrupted, or the Wizengamot. I was unable to prevent him from taking over the position, as my position as Head Mugwump was taken from me. I was sacked, Harry." the former Transfiguration teacher looked balefully at him, as though he expected the fifth year before him to do something about it.
After all it should be every fifteen year old Gryffindor's job to rescue fully grown wizards from being fired from their jobs, and while their at it to save the wizarding world from the new Minister. Who had yet, as far as anyone was aware, to begin any sort of Muggle genocide.
Quite simply put, Dumbledore had no power. And no means to get that power.
The Headmaster's expression hardened, "Mr. Potter, let me present this plainly to you; the blood wards around your aunt and uncles house of Number 4, Privet Drive need to be renewed once a year. This means that you must return so that the blood wards protecting you and your relatives there can remain in place. If you were not to return for the summer, the wards would fall within a week, and your whereabouts would be made known to every enemy of yours on the planet. Death Eaters, Voldemort they would all have access to not only you but to your family as well, Harry. They would torture, and kill all of them, burn the house to the ground, and then poison the soil so that nothing would ever grow there again."
The man seated before him had finally cracked up. Did he really not understand? Harry didn't care. Well, that was a lie. If Voldemort was selling tickets to the show, he'd be very interested. Somehow, he didn't think that would go over well with the Headmaster.
He decided to make it painfully clear to the other exactly what his feelings were on the subject of his abusive, so-called relatives.
"Headmaster, I'm not entirely sure we're speaking of the same people. We are talking about Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley. My relatives. My uncle, aunt, and cousin. The very same people who locked me in a cupboard for the first ten years of my life, treated me like Malfoy treats his houselves, making me cook for them, clean up their trash, have no real possessions of my own that weren't Dudley's cast offs, putting up with their neglect, their abuse for fourteen years. These are the people you're talking about, correct?"
But still, the man interjected, "Harry, my dear boy please don't exaggerate while the Dursley's may not be your favorite people they are still the very same relatives who-"
"Starved me, locked me in a cupboard underneath the stairs for weeks on end, physically, emotionally, and verbally abused me my entire life, yes, Dumbledore those are the people I'm speaking of. No exaggeration." He ignored the Professor's hurt denials, indignant exclamation, but it was the requests for him to speak rationally that destroyed what little patience he'd retained.
A speech was in order.
"Headmaster, had you asked me a week ago how many people in the world I truly hated I would have been able to list every person off on a single hand. Now a week later that number has changed significantly and I suspect that over the course of the next week that number will continue growing.
Earlier you implied a question, when you said that my relatives were there, you were wondering if I would truly leave them to die at Voldemort's Death Eater's hands. I assume that before you felt the answer to be rhetorical, that you truly believed that I would never let any harm befall to those vile people because we, by some misfortune on my part, happen to be of the same blood.
It's a noble concept, and Muggles believe chivalry to be dead. So, I'll ask you a question in return, Dumbledore. Why am I being held to standards you don't even apply to yourself? After all you did leave a child on the footstep of magical hating bigots, how did you think that would work out for me? You want me to worry for them don't you, to believe that if I don't return back to that abusive household they'll die. That Voldemort will slaughter them like pigs, well I'll let you in on a few secrets... Professor." Harry sneered the title.
"I hope that the Minister kills the, slaughters them just as the pigs they are. And since I'm such a noble and good person how do you know I wasn't planning to do something similar to those people."
Harry put both hands on the Headmaster's desk, utterly aware of the eyes of the portraits on the wall crawling over his frame, with varying ranges of shock, disgust, and horror. It was then he said his parting words.
"Do you want to know what I say Dumbledore?"
I say let them burn."
At some point during this memory, things began to go foggy. Voices began to meld together and combine, like a twisted version of melted cheese, they all swirled together until Harry lost all recognition between reality and memory. Dumbledore's office swirled, Fawkes on his stand stood out as a bright red swirl in his vision.
Along with the office blurring out of his sight came another chamber, a place that dimly caused a sputter and spark of recognition to flare in his mind. It was the Ministry Atrium. Filled to the brim with reporters, the leeches had scented blood and were going for the jugular.
"So, Minister how do you explain the current overspending the Ministry has taken over the last week, we are going far over budget for the month?" said some nameless reporter.
It was Voldemort on stage, with his new look, speaking as Minister.
However it was though Voldemort's eyes that Harry was looking out from.
It was strange, Harry thought, looking out from another's eyes, without pain. Because that's what a vision from Voldemort meant, but instead the new Minister wasn't angry, or even happy, but content to answer the reporters. He was humoring them, Harry realized.
"Yes, Mr. Goldstein I am going over the previous Ministry's approved spending budget for the quarter, however yesterday I recently proposed to the Wizengamot a new spending budget for the Ministry. This budget which was passed by the Supreme Mugwump just recently, and will soon be released to the public."
Another reporter butted in, "How are you going to use the increased spending budget to benefit the wizarding public?"
Riddle replied steadily, "As you all have seen from the Daily Prophet recently, I'm currently using the new incoming money towards the erecting of new establishments and the protection of the wizarding world."
The reporters scented that the new ruler of the wizarding world wasn't granting them full disclosure.
"Can you elaborate to exactly what you're doing for the wizarding world in regards to protecting and erecting said establishments."
"Certainly, currently throughout the wizarding world there are no magical orphanages, though every year there murders and deaths throughout the wizarding world which leave children without parents. And if these children have no relatives to speak of, where do you assume they find residence. In muggle orphanages. Magical children, pureblood, and halfblood children are being sent to muggle orphanages. And so I would ask you a question, what do you believe happens to those children when they begin displaying magical accidents. How do you imagine those children will be treated by their muggle caretakers? After all muggles are well known for their understanding, just look at the past one hundred years. There have been two major wars throughout the entire world which ended in the deaths of millions of both civilians and soldiers."
"Are you implying that wizarding children are neglected or abused by their muggle caretakers?" the demand came rapid fire, from Mr. Goldstein again.
Riddle looked at him coldly, "No, Mr. Goldstein I'm not implying or insinuating that magical children are abused by muggles, I'm saying that it is a fact, and one that is occurring right at this moment."
"And do you have any evidence of this Minister?" You could practically feel the reporters lean in, scenting blood in the water.
Tom's expression was frosty, but there was a hint of triumph in his deep blue eyes.
"Actually, I believe that you are already acquainted with the person in question. You know him as Harry Potter; the Boy-Who-Lived."
The leeches went crazy, transforming into piranhas scuttling among themselves searching for a piece of meat to strip to the bone. Camera flashes went off, quills scratched furiously, and several forms raced to the fireplaces to put in a call with their superiors demanding to have the next day's front page displaying the news that Harry Potter; the Boy-Who-Lived had been abused by muggles. Others tried shouting questions above the din that had been created.
"-evidence supporting-"
"-rageous claims against the Boy-Who-"
"-slander against the Potter nam-"
"-damaging medical effects on the young Mr. Potte-"
"SILENCE!" it wasn't that Voldemort had shouted, previously he'd had no need to raise his voice to speak above the reporters, they were still frightened of him. But it appeared that news of recent events had superseded their terror of the previous Dark Lord.
The dark haired man had instead implemented the Sonorous Charm to regain his press conferences attention. All conversation had ceased, some of the reporters heads still in their fireplaces, others with Quick Note Quills still poised in the air, all eyes focused on the wizard before them.
Their eyes followed the former Dark Lord warily, fearful they were about to be Crucioed at the drop of a hat.
"I have also instituted a new series of wards around all magical cities and institutions. These wards are to include protective measures with common spells such as Muggle Repelling, however the new series of protective wards will include several layers. These layers will include an outer shell which is meant to guarantee safety from muggle attacks, and to aid in the secrecy of the wizarding world with memory charms.
The second layer is meant to protect each and every home inside the city, this protective layer would guard against unwanted intruders who wish to cause the house's occupants undue harm. It is a protection against fellow wizards. The final protective layer is a final defense mechanism which would institute a series of lockdowns should any of the other wards both be breached. This would only occur where an attack is either likely or already being carried out.
Children would be Apparated instantly as long as they were in the city to our nearest allies around the world, and the adults would follow until the only remaining thing left open to attack is a ghost town.
We live in a time of modern unsecurity, however it is with these measures that we are able to protect ourselves. We have grown complacent in the past hundred years, believing nothing from the outside could penetrate our barriers. We have left ourselves open for attack, whether this be an attack from outside or from within. The very institutions put in place to protect us have become corrupt, and unreliable. If we wish to preserve ourselves then we should protect our foundations so they do not crumble.
The foundation of our world is our future. The future are the children, whether they study at Hogwart's or abroad, these are our future leaders. Our future Aurors and department heads, without them we would crumble to dust in the wake of our own uncertainties. It is time that we looked forward to the future without prejudice.
"This is only the beginning."
AN- Oh my gosh! Was that as corny as it sounded? I hope not! I know that Voldemort seems quite AU however I think that he is quite within his means during the speech. Since Harry's had access to Tom's mind without his knowing why shouldn't Tom have had that same privilege (remember Tom was not aware of Harry's presence in his mind for quite a while) and thus there is no reason he shouldn't be aware of Harry's abuse at the Dursley's hands, and Tom himself grew up in an orphanage so I would think he'd feel quite strongly about the subject.
And as for the ward implementation I really don't understand why they wouldn't have something like it! It seems quite logical and only a few steps: protection from the outside, protection from the inside, and as a final resort; to get the children to safety and then the adults so that the enemy is rendered useless when they attack an empty city. It's almost like what they did in Europe during WW2; got all the children away to safety, and turn off all the lights so that the Germans were unable to see city lights and thus unable to bomb them with a strong amount of accuracy.
Long authors note (I know) thank you all!
Please review review review!
Your friend in time,
*Kasamira