AN: I am awful and mean. Cruel. It's almost three years later that I return to this. Well, I promise to finish it...within at least the three years.
So dawns the next day, the day after the Ball. A time where our – Oh, you guys weren't finished with the Ball yet, were you? I did leave you off without the aftermath, or even saying where our now ex-Minister had gone. Well, this Narrator should inform you of his actions. Well, let us take a look at that evening again!
"Guys, what just happened?" Ron asked, voice barely above a whisper. Ron was staring where Harry used to be wondering whether they should be concerned about Harry from the standpoint of apparating drunk or because he just resigned from the ministry. Nothing was making sense at the moment, so he wasn't sure which one to take. He supposed they should be worried more about the drunken apparating. Always something that was concern worthy.
"I think that we need to find him." Hermione whispered, "Because that was not the best way to apparate. ." Hermione was very worried. Ron could detect it in her voice. He was not sure how to stop the full-blown Hermione fit that would come out, but was glad when Draco stepped in, removing her to elsewhere temporarily. Ron looked at Luna who was blinking.
"He resigned..." She whispered, "I thought he loved this job." Ron shook his head slightly. It amazed him how no one really had known that Harry had been living a mask. It amazed him even more that they thought he liked working at the ministry.
"Hardly, Luna. Not the right job for him." Ron whispered.
Now, the Narrator supposes that it would be best to quickly turn to Harry and what happened to him, seeing as the others are lost in the misery of their own thoughts. Have no fear, they will have recovered in due course! They will be snapping to action in enough time for the adventure to start! Oh, but I wasn't supposed to inform you of the impending events. Ah, but I suppose you were smart enough to figure out that something exciting had to happen. Well, let us go to elusive, slippery ex Minister of Magic and see where he ended up.
Harry laughed with the guy sitting next to him at the Hog's Head. He wasn't sure he knew what was so funny, but he laughed uproariously anyway, since the beer was making everything funnier. Harry was dimly aware of someone helping him stand up, guiding him outside. He answered their question of where he was going by pointing at Hogwarts, however the small motion made him very dizzy. When the person moved him towards the school, Harry leaned over, hoping to make it on the ground, throwing up. After dry-heaving for a bit, he was a bit more lucid. Still drunk off his ass, but the world no longer spun quite so dangerously. He thanked the poor fellow that had helped him outside, walking towards Hogwarts. Well, walking was a bit generous. It was more like he stumbled haphazardly on the path to the school. He knew that McGonagall would be there due to it being the first month of the summer. He stumbled awkwardly up the steps. He looked down, hoping that helped. Instead, he missed the person in front of him, running right into them. His head shot up as a voice spoke to him.
"Mr. Potter! Pay attention to where you are going." The stern Headmistress said, moving to continue onwards, however Harry decided that he had come to Hogwarts to talk with McGonagall. He didn't actually remember why he had come to the school, but it hardly seemed like it mattered.
"Minnie!" Harry flung his arms around her, hugging her. "I love you, Minnie! I go' so much ta tell ya! Didja know that alcohol stops burning after awhile? Just goes right down, tasting good." He was leaning heavily on McGonagall, not having the energy to support himself. He tried to not be semi-insulted as she leaned away after smelling his breath.
"Mr. Potter, how much have you had to drink?"
"9-10 somethings. . . not sure. Guess wha' I did, Minnie! You'll never be able to guess! It was slimy. Slime. Ssssslime." Harry just spun a bit, not really able to keep himself upright. McGonagall grabbed him, not saying anything. Harry didn't really need her to speak though, just wanted to say things himself, "I was so smart. I did somethin' awesome. I quit! I told 'em I resigned! I said, shove it! And then I apparated!" He grinned at her.
McGonagall stared open-mouthed at Harry, "Mr. Potter, do not tell me you apparated drunk. That is insane and dangerous!" Harry just continued grinning as though he was brilliant. McGonagall blinked, having a bit of an inspiration. She was incredibly tired of being the Headmistress. She had been teaching for so long. She was ready to retire. She wanted to have a home on a nice beach somewhere. Or in the hills. She didn't care which. There was one obstacle: Hogwarts. But here, right in her lap, lie the perfect escape. She must, while he was slobbering drunk, get Harry Potter to take over Hogwarts. The question was how to do that. After all, she had just chastised him for apparating drunk. How does one move from that to 'I want you to take over Hogwarts.'
"Minnie! Shouldn' worry so much. Knew I'd make it here. Love here. Here is home. Here was home long time ago." Harry said, hugging her and flopping his head on her shoulder. McGonagall blinked, wondering what to do with a drunk ex-Minister who was treating her like a teddy bear.
"Mr. Potter. Why don't we head to the Gryffindor dormitory. I'll make you up a bed and you can sleep off the alcohol. However, since you insist that you are clear-thinking, I was wondering if I could broach a topic with you of utmost urgency."
"Minnie, of course! Never have to ask. Well, you would have to ask or talk or somethings. I don't know anymore. Whatcha need, Minnie? Do you mind if I call you Mouse?"
"Potter, I do mind. But you won't remember anyway. Let's get back to the common room, and I will tell you what I want to discuss." Stumbling along, McGonagall assisted Harry to the Gryffindor common room. She had to use a few charms along the way to keep Harry from pitching himself over the railings on the moving staircases. McGonagall set Harry up in the common room with a bed and sat down, conjuring some tea. She was going to be very underhanded in how she got Harry to sign the papers making him Headmaster. She looked at him, "Harry, would you like to live in the castle permanently?"
Harry was getting comfortable on the bed, but managed to say, "Yes, Mouse." McGonagall summoned the paper and a quill,
"Well, if you sign right here, you can live in this castle." McGonagall didn't mention that by signing he would have to be Headmaster for at least ten years and that he couldn't try to give the position back to her. She knew it was very devious, but Hogwarts needed Harry Potter. She smiled in triumph as Harry signed his name to the paper and then fell asleep, as if someone had turned off a switch.
Watching Harry sleep, McGonagall wondered how different Harry would be if he had a real childhood. She knew that the composed adult that was shown to the whole of the Wizarding World was not whom Harry really was. She never understood why he built that mask. Clearly, to some in the Ministry, Harry did act like a total buffoon, but not everyone and not at everything. He needed a place where being eccentric was all right. A place where he could be silly and goofy, and the consequences wouldn't be earth shattering. Hogwarts was the place for that. McGonagall knew that in her heart. She just hoped that Harry would forgive her when he discovered what she had done.
Turning the lamps down, McGonagall left the common room, packing her bags. She told the ghosts what had happened and disappeared into the night.
The Narrator is tempted to take the reader to the morning, when the ex-Minister awakens to a particularly nasty hangover to some rather surprising news. However, the Narrator feels that following the steps of one Ron Weasley as he is hounded by reporters as he tries to leave the party is much more important. The Wizarding World has conveniently decided to forget that a Mr. Ron Weasley was, up until his startling return, missing from the wizarding world for a period of around five or so years. The reader should also keep in mind that they are forgetting about the fact that Mr. Weasley did not remain friends with Harry during the time of his interlude away from the magical community.
"Mr. Weasley! A moment of your time!" "A quick question!" "Weasley, do you know-" "Did you have any idea" "Mr. Weasley!" "-Time!" Voices clamored for the attention of Ron Weasley as he departed the party. Ron stared into all the flashing light, a dumbfounded look on his face. He was walking to his flat, as opposed to apparating. He liked to walk, especially on the rare nice days. It was eccentric, and apparently getting him into trouble. The doors out of the building went by the public floo network, which of course had tons of reporters around it, hoping to get a scoop on the story of Harry Potter's resignation.
Ron stood in the flash of the bulbs, getting a bit of a head ache. He hadn't had to deal with reporters where he had ultimately ended up for the five years. In fact, Ron was fairly certain that he hated reporters. However, they were clearly not going to let him get away without answering there questions. Putting on a relatively innocuous face, Ron pointed at the shortest female of the lot, who looked like a bouncing rabbit. Ron tried to keep his straight face on as he started imagining her as a bouncy rabbit.
"Mr. Weasley, can you shed any light onto the Minister's decision to resign?" the reporter asked. Ron shook his head,
"No, I'm sorry. I cannot." Without warning, another reporter shouted a question,
"Are you saying that Mr. Potter did not consult with anyone when making his decision?"
Ron looked at the male reporter with a raised eyebrow. He was trying to formulate a good response and saw an opportunity, "Did you realize that you have lipstick on your chin?" The reporter glared, moving off to take care of it, "I have to go. Excuse me." He tried to leave, but was pushed back by the reporters. Ron started to tense, wanting to get out and go home to relax before chasing after Harry.
"Mr. Weasley, is your relationship with Mr. Potter strained due to your long absence?"
Ron closed his eyes to calm himself and then opened them again, "First off, it is none of your business the state of my relationship with Harry. Second, I suggest you move out of my way, and let me continue on my way home. Do you understand?" Ron pushed his way through them heading off to walking home. He looked up when he noticed someone walking with him,
"Name's Bryce. What do you say about a job, Mr. Weasley?" Ron looked at the editor-in-chief of Witch Weekly, unbelieving.
The Narrator feels that it might be cruel for some of the readers to leave Ron as he gapes like a fish, however the story must move to the next morning as Harry wakes up with a devil of a hangover. Don't despair. Ron's decision will become apparent later on. However, that decision isn't important at this moment.
Harry groaned, feeling the light pounding against his face. He did not want to wake up and face this monster of headache. He decided he did in fact need to wake up, but he was going to recount what happened the previous evening. For instance, where the hell was he? How did he get here? And what did he do at that party? He had a rather sneaking suspicion that it was not good.
Scratch that. He knew it wasn't good. He ran through his memory. He remembered that he had been avoiding his friends. Well, whether or not they were his friends was debatable. The next few hours of the party, he remembered talking to diplomats. He couldn't remember if he had to speak or not. He thought he was...
Harry's head suddenly filled with the words of what he had said in his speech. Well, he now knew how he had gotten to wherever he was at. If he took a guess, he would be willing to bet that here was Hogwarts. To figure out for sure if he was, he supposed that he would have to actually open his eyes and look around. Did he mention how much he did not want to see the world? Well, not the world, but the light in the world.
Cracking open his eyes, Harry grunted and rolled over. Now that he thought about, moving would probably be a good thing because his bladder was definitely not happy. With a groan, Harry sat up. "Woah...the world is spinning. Spinning world. I don't like a spinning world. Never drinking that much alcohol in that short of time again. Never again. Bad idea." Harry sat on the edge of the bed, trying to stop the world from rolling around him. The very idea of moving was probably not the smartest thing.
In a fit of intelligence, Harry realized that the world would probably stop moving and being so disconcerting if he put his glasses on. After all, a blurry spinning world was worse than an in focus, spinning world. Or at least, that's the theory? Fumbling around, Harry cursed as he knocked things over. Thankfully, he managed to grab his glasses and place them on his face. "That's it. No more alcohol at excessive quantities on an empty stomach. Actually, the empty stomach bit is most important. And, I think there's a ghost in my room." Harry stared at Nearly Headless Nick, trying to figure out which ghost was in front of him. His memory was a bit slow this morning.
"Harry! So fantastic to see you, old chap! How are you feeling this morning?"
"Like my innards are my outtards."
"Well, that doesn't sound very pleasant. It's a pleasure to see you assuming a new role, Headmaster."
"I'm glad to be taking on-" Harry paused, Nick's words sinking in. He stared for a few minutes, rather blankly at Nick's transparent form. After a few minutes of silence and rapid blinking, Harry managed to find his voice, "Headmaster? What? I'm not Headmaster. McGonagall is Headmistress! I'm not anything at Hogwarts! Why would you say that!" Harry was flipping out, forgetting his migraine in his panic.
"Oh...I take it you haven't read McGonagall's note. Well, I'll let you do that. Talk with you later, Harry!" Nick disappeared, heading off to the other ghosts. Harry stared where he was for a bit before finally going to the washroom. He cleaned up a bit, coming back down. He saw a note, scrawled with his name on it. Opening the parchment, Harry dismally read the letter from McGonagall. He should not be allowed around conniving witches when totally trashed. Or rather, he should be around himself when totally trashed.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I am sorry for my rather sudden departure, but there was a retirement villa with my name on it. The office is cleared and ready for you to move in. Feel free to keep your house outside of the school, if that is what you so desire. I after all, would not like to say that you will never leave the castle again. Enclosed is the contract that you signed last night. I hope to see you again within a few years!
I have already sent out the letters for the coming school year, so have no worries! Enjoy your last few months of freedom!
Minerva McGonagall.
With trepidation, Harry pulled out the contract, scanning it for salient details. His eyes widened at the portion that told him he couldn't try to force the position back on McGonagall. After all, that was going to be his first thing to do. Harry threw the parchment down, upset. He couldn't believe that McGonagall would take advantage of a drunk man. She didn't know that he would outright refuse to become Headmaster. Had she given him a year to go all over the world, he might have said yes. But he wanted time to travel. He didn't want any burdens, any troubles!
It wasn't to say that Harry didn't like Hogwarts. Clearly he did! He loved it. Harry loved his time spent as Godric Gryffindor. However, as Godric, he was able to be someone else! He was able to not hide behind his hero masque.
Well, he had to deal with this mess. So, first things first: brew something to help with the hangover. Second, get out of Hogwarts. The sooner, the better.
Gazing out over the lawn, Harry turned his thoughts inward. He reached deep within himself, feeling a wrenching feeling as he disappeared from the lawn, without a glance back at Hogwarts. He didn't give a thought to what would happen to the school without their Headmaster. He didn't care. Pulling on the ropes of time, Harry catapulted himself back to the time he swore to always avoid – the Wizarding Wars.
Harry saw no choice. He knew that Snape would have figured out how to get the potion working. He also now understood a little of what Snape had said to him all those years ago. Snape was trying to make him realize that he had answers. Well, he needed the answers on the potion.
Harry would not stay where he was. It was time for a vacation.
The acidic, putrid smell of panic assaulted Harry the instant he landed back in the passed. He desperately tried to focus on something else, but the destruction was too great for him to ignore. He closed his mind against the memories attacking him, but he knew that fragments would seep through. The scent was too overwhelming for him to push everything back completely.
He hurried quickly to the back of the house, knocking on the door. The door opened a crack, as though the house recognized who he was. Harry walked in confidently, knowing that he couldn't show his want to run. Snape would probably throw him out – thinking that he had finally cracked. Harry just drew himself together to project the image that he was the same confident and ready warrior that he had been prior to the Last Battle. He carefully thought over what he would say to convince Snape that he had found out about the potion normally.
"Potter. What brings you to my humble abode? And why would you be so foolish as to come here, knowing He has eyes everywhere?" Snape stepped out of the shadows, from the direction his hidden staircase was. Harry tried not to smile, since he knew where it was there.
"Come now, do you think I would be foolish enough to be followed? I came for answers. I am intrigued by a potion that Hermione started to jot down, that you took from her. I want the completed potion." Harry said, arrogantly, dredging up everything he had in him to appear cocky. It was hard to be that person again. He understood why Dumbledore always seemed a few marbles short of a full set. Sometimes, a person did things that they had to do, but afterwards, the action seems harsh, cruel. It is hard to wrap the mind around. Harry understood that now.
Well, at least Harry had the satisfaction of stunning Snape into complete silence. If the gaping mouth and wide eyes were any indication of what was going through Snape's mind at the moment. At least Harry knew that Snape knew what he was talking about.
The story, alas, must return to our intrepid quadrupelet who, after a night's rest, has decided to reconvene and decide what to do about the missing ex-Minister. Though, they do not yet know that he is missing. Well, at least missing from the time that they thought he was in.
Ron stretched languidly out on the couch in Draco's finely furnished apartment. He had gotten used to the idea of a Draco that had money, but preferred things smaller. He looked at the people in the room, noting the discouraged face of Luna Lovegood, the worried face of Hermione Granger, and the slightly perturbed face of Draco Malfoy. Ron had to agree with the look on Draco's face. The stunt that Harry had pulled last night was abominable, and it had taken away their opportunity to apologize to him, trying to mend the rift.
"We should go find him," Hermione whispered from her chair. She had barely finished speaking when Luna shook her head,
"He went to Hogwarts. Minerva owled me. She got him to agree to be Headmaster..." Luna whispered, "We should just go to Hogwarts..."
Draco blinked at Luna, his face turning to true annoyance, "You knew where he was at. And you didn't say anything!" Luna shrugged. Draco shook his head, sighing in frustration. The four of them lapsed into silence before Ron stood up, stretching. He walked to the Floo Network, pulling out some powder.
"The floo to the head office should be open. Let's go." Ron stepped through, arriving at Hogwarts. Nick arrived afterwards, shaking his head. The four all knew that whatever came next would not be good.
"You missed Harry. I believe he traveled back in time...Not sure where though! Cheerio!" Nick disappeared, heading back down to the other ghosts. The four exchanged looks, each one thinking of where Harry could have gone and why. Each one wondering what this meant. Each one – well, maybe Draco wasn't thinking this much. He instead saw the letter that was thrown onto the desk and recalled the drunken mess that Harry spewed the evening before.
"If you were someone who had had no chance to have a childhood, had no chance to travel, and had a lot of burdens, but also knew that if you traveled in the time you were at, people would look for you – what would you do?" Draco asked the others. Hermione was the first to answer and voice what all were thinking.
"Travel in time."