Bedlamite

Ola. This story is (as of now) beta-ed by Suiadan. Thanks to those of you who offered. By now you should all have received a message explaining my decision but if you haven't it is probably due to the weird time delay the alert system was going through which caused me to lose track of who I'd replied to and who I'd missed. The same applies to unanswered reviews but if you let me know that I've missed you, I'll go back to your message and give you a reply. As I was saying, Suiadan has agreed to beta this story so you should thank him for the lack of typos and spelling errors and whatnot. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Warning: This story is rated M. It contains strong violence, adult themes, and sexual references.

Summary: First let's pretend Harry is sent to Azkaban. Now let's pretend he doesn't like it much. Then let's pretend the ministry says OOPS and releases him. But finally, let's pretend Harry does not easily forgive and forget. Dear wizarding world… this means war.

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

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Chapter 5- Havoc and Mayhem

28th August

For the rest of the morning after Cassie's arrival, the castle was in uproar. The majority of the teachers spent a few hours trying to figure out how she had gotten through the wards, then they spent their next few hours trying to figure out how Harry had gotten her through the wards. Severus, as the only teacher besides Minerva who was not in on this whole quest for knowledge, spent his morning trying to figure out how much Potter was paying this girl to be here, what she was going to do, and whether he himself was on the list. Later, in a private firecall to Narcissa who had gotten bored and headed home, he decided it was a good thing that all the teachers, himself included, had been so distracted. His reasoning being that with the stress the past few days had brought, what with the owls, Howlers, and occasional Weasley coming through to beg Dumbledore to assist them in paying the massive fine the building inspector had insisted on, he thought that none of them could truly have coped with knowing what Harry, Draco and Daphne had decided to do in their free time that day. As the wizarding world discovered on the 28th of August that year, even abandoned boy wonders get bored.

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Cornelius Fudge had been in a meeting with a Gringotts executive when he first got wind that something was up. He had turned to see Percy's replacement, a young graduate called Cho, trying to get his attention through the glass screen he had asked to be installed a few years ago so that he could always see what was going on outside. The girl already knew never to interrupt him in 'money meetings' unless it was urgent so he apologized to the goblin and hurried to let her through as soon as the irritated creature had passed through the fireplace.

"Minister," the girl gasped out before halting, seemingly unsure of how to continue. She shook it off and did her best to explain, "Auror Shacklebolt just rushed by to try and see you. I said you were busy so he left a message, but I thought you ought to hear this immediately."

"Did Dumbledore send him by?" Fudge looked worried. He had known of Kingsley's connection to the order for a bit under a year after he and Dumbledore had finally agreed to work together in the war.

"Ah, no. I thought it was important because it has to do with Harry Potter and you said he was top priority."

"… Well?" Fudge rolled his eyes in exasperation, "What's the boy done? Have we brought him in yet?"

"No Minister…" Cho seemed flustered, "But apparently he thought to stop by and visit us."

"I'm sorry?"

"Auror Tonks, do you know of her Minister?" Cho queried and Fudge shook his head, "She's a metamorphmagus and she was a friend of Potter's before the whole prison thing. She did not really give him much support and as a result, well, her abilities gone slightly haywire."

"In what way exactly?"

As Cho went on to explain, Tonks apparently had felt a desire to experience life as a member of the opposite sex for a change. Lacking the originality to create a whole new person, she had apparently borrowed an image she knew the true owner wasn't going to miss. Tom Marvolo Riddle was now stalking the Auror department, wearing nothing but a scowl and a pale pink ballerina outfit calling him/herself Tommy Tutu. Apparently Tonks not only sucked at making up new 'looks', she also sucked at picking names. Although it did sort of fit.

This would have been alright, if it weren't for the fact that he/she now had Dolores Umbridge's voice and was using it to bitch about the fact that he/she hadn't had a good lay in the past seventeen years. Several employees threw up as Tommy went on to wistfully recount how he/she'd tried to proposition Peter Pettigrew but had regularly been turned down, even after the strip tease. As Fudge and his new gofer arrived on the scene, the newest form of the Dark Lord was beginning to show them exactly how this rather disturbing form of unsuccessful foreplay had proceeded. Seventy-something year old men should not wear pink tutus anyway as a rule of thumb but even more importantly, they should not try to very slowly remove them whilst humming You Can Leave Your Hat On. There were tears. Several Aurors had to receive counseling for years afterwards. Villains soon learnt that in order to escape, all you had to do was hum that song and every Auror in the nearby vicinity would curl up in a ball and start rocking backward and forward.

Once back in his office, Fudge had shakingly poured himself and his new lackey a glass of scotch.

"H-how do we know Potter caused that?"

"Before everyone shielded their eyes, three of the Aurors and a secretary all swear they saw a tattoo between the skin sags on the back of his upper right thigh." Cho looked traumatized by the very idea, "They all agree that it said, and I quote, Property of Harry Potter. That's right; he's my man-bitch. Pty Ltd."

"Please tell me you're not serious," Fudge whispered, a wild look appearing in his eye.

"I-I'm afraid I am Minister." Cho replied with a slight tremor in her voice.

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Neville Longbottom had finally recovered from not only his battle, but also from the events that followed. He still nodded along with whatever Dumbledore said about Harry needing their help, but secretly he couldn't help but give a mental cheer each time Harry pulled off another of his grand schemes. He knew already what only Severus Snape had figured out and that was that this whole thing had only just begun. He knew they could expect a lot more out of the original Boy Who Lived before his ex-year mate would finally leave them alone. He had vaguely voiced this opinion at the recent and only press conference he supplied after defeating Voldemort, and as such was not particularly surprised about what he came home to on the 28th of August.

Sitting on the kitchen bench was a large vase of red roses and a box of chocolates. This had not been a particularly rare occurrence over the past few weeks, but what was different was the box of sleeping pills sitting next to them. Blinking twice at the rather unique gift, he went over and checked the vase for a note. Extracting the small pink card he thus found, he flipped it open.

Dear Mister Longbottom,

Cheers on offing Donald Duck. I'm sure it was a very dramatic day for you. Harry also sends his congratulations but he adds a personal thank-you for and I quote; "doing his dirty work". The flowers and chocolates were what the chick in the store said would be perfect for a congratulatory and/or thank-you gift, but she worked in a florist, had her hair braided, wore pink lipstick, read teen magazines, and looked to be roughly fifteen or sixteen which by default lists her as a romantic so perhaps I shouldn't have trusted her judgment.

The sleeping pills were more of a personal touch. Firstly, Harry said you'd probably be getting nightmares so they'd help there. Secondly, he also said that your grandmother has terrible fashion sense and can be a domineering bitch. So I eventually decided that you could use a little "you time". I explored such options as sending her on a vacation to Greenland, having the Zoo accidentally pick her up thinking she was their newest exhibit (muggles can make foolish mistakes, especially when under a minor confundus charm), but eventually decided the little pink pills were the way to go. They are the muggle things and thus pretty much harmless to us wizarding folk, so two slipped into her fig newtons should keep her out for about nine hours with no after affects. Plus she won't become immune to them after long time use as is the case in muggles. The final benefit which Harry insisted I point out was that if you can somehow slip her the whole bottle, she'll wake up dead. Or not wake up I guess but whatever.

I personally think that would be a stupid thing to do, but Harry was adamant I include it. It's sort of his thing now. You should have seen how difficult it was for me to convince him he couldn't blow up an eleven-year-old. I think Azkaban may have messed with his head a little. Now why was he in there? Oh yes! Because you're all a bunch of easily swayed moronic asinine cretins. But hey, no hard feelings right?

I wish you well with your future plans and hope that you enjoy your last year at Hogwarts.

Sincerely,

Daphne Greengrass.

P.S. See! I can write letters just as good as Harry can! Plus I'm sooooo much saner then he is.

Feeling slightly stunned Neville closed the card and placed it back with the flowers before returning his gaze to the pills. He frowned in a contemplative fashion before swiveling round to look at the tray of ginger kisses his grandmother had left unfinished on the bench.

"Hey Gran," He called out snatching up the box and moving towards the innocuous treats, "You feeling peckish at all? Fancy a snack?"

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"Honey, we've got another problem." Arthur called out as he returned home from the post office. They'd had decided to get a box there because since Harry's release and subsequent popularity, they had been flooded by howlers and now found this a much easier way to avoid the migraines Weasley women got from voices louder then their own.

"What's the matter dear? Did the inspector raise the fine?" Molly rushed into the room followed by all but one of her seven children who by matters of amazing coincidence all happened to be visiting.

The inspector had in fact already given them a hefty sum but luckily, due to their support of the Order, Dumbledore had graciously given them the fund to pay it off, thus meaning precious Ronnikins didn't have to spoil that lovely complexion by getting a summer job. The poor baby was allergic to hamburgers. However, the Headmaster had warned them that as per the requests of Harry's friend and newly designated accountant Draco Malfoy, they now had no access to the boy's funds and thus, this was all he could give them. If anything else came up, they were on their own.

"Luckily, that hasn't happened as of yet," Arthur started amidst sighs of relief, "But I'm afraid we have more legal issues coming through."

"What Dad? You've always been really careful with most things." Ginny cried out in her most naïve tone. On a guess, one could assume she had suffered a head trauma recently and as a result had forgotten exactly who her father was, what his job was, and what his hobbies consisted of.

"Firstly, Control of Magical Creatures is fining us an absolutely incredible amount for importing." Arthur looked sort of confused as he read the paper, "Apparently, garden gnomes are not native to this part of Britain."

"What?" George looked at him in amazement, "Garden gnomes are native of the entire UK, and can be expected in most parts of Europe."

"I know son, but as of a few hours ago, garden gnomes apparently do not naturally chose to inhabit the area… from the corner of our back yard to the road out front."

"I'm sorry what now?" Molly seemed to be swelling up with indignation.

Arthur shrugged, evidently not as worried about this as the rest of his family. Or perhaps he was simply more worried about the contents of the other letter he held.

"This other letter is to say that we are being sued. The field across the way that we have been tossing the gnomes into is a plantation of organic wheat. The gnomes have caused the phosphate level of the soil to rise above the maximum amount for the wheat to keep its certification. Its owner a Mister Drew Morton is not particularly pleased about this, and from looking at this information, he does have a valid case."

"I thought Old Man Thurn owned that land?" Ron looked confused which was nothing new but in this case it definitely everyone else's feelings about the matter.

"Not since roughly this time last year." Arthur informed them as he checked the details on the paper before him.

Far away, in a privatized estate in the Bahamas, a pretty young lady raised her glass to the two gentlemen sitting opposite her.

"A toast." She sang out loudly into the night, "To the three of us. Because payback's a bitch, but sleeping pills are gifts from the gods."

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