"Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?"
Harry watched with baited breath as hands raised across the Wizengamot, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach as he counted that just less than half of the gathered Witches and Wizards had raised their hands, Fudge turning a smug look on him as the Minister realised the same thing.
"And those in favour of conviction?" the monocle-wearing woman asked with a resigned sounding voice and a sympathetic look on her face as she grimaced at Harry. "I am sorry Mister Potter," she apologized as every other hand in the chamber rose, more than half of the Wizards with their hands raised being people Harry either recognised from the graveyard or knew to be politicians that were denying his claims of Voldemort's return.
Fudge quickly lifted and smacked his gavel down on his desk several times, a huge grin on his face as he sneered down at Harry, "Aurors, seize his wand and destroy it," he ordered viciously.
Forcing his face blank, trying to hide the horrified 'No. No. No. No' that was in repeat in his stomach, Harry slowly drew his wand from his jacket pocket and stared down at it. After everything he'd done… after years of putting up with the wizarding world's shit… this was his reward? They were casting him out for the rest of his life merely because they didn't want to admit that Voldemort was back?
Without his wand he couldn't be the Boy-Who-Lived anymore… without his wand how was he supposed to fight Voldemort? Without his wand he was a nobody to them, just some 'Squib' to look down on and…
Why was this a bad thing again?
Brushing off his thoughts as an Auror appeared beside him, Harry looked between his wand and the man's outstretched hand. Swallowing nervously, Harry reached out and dropped his wand in the man's hand, closing his eyes as he heard the loud crack of snapping wood echoing through the courtroom. Seconds after his wand was broken, Harry heard a whisper of haunted phoenix song erupting from the broken feather inside it, the song penetrating his chest and making something snap as if a switch had been flipped.
"Any last words Mr Potter?" Fudge asked mockingly, as the halves of his wand were handed back to him, the phoenix song filling him with a strange sense of confidence.
Almost instinctively Harry went to shake his head. freezing a couple of seconds later. Why was he saying no? He had plenty of things to say to Fudge. And while the Boy-Who-Lived would never have been allowed to say them, the broken wand in his hands was all that remained of Harry Potter.
Harry Potter wasn't allowed to speak his mind, his fame was nothing more than a gilded cage, an expectation of how he was supposed to act and the man he was supposed to be.
But Just Harry? Just Harry was going to say his piece… and he was going to enjoy it.
"Do I have any last words?" Harry asked almost conversationally, interrupting Fudge as the man raised his gavel to bang it again. "Oh by Merlin, yes I do," he confirmed calmly, staring the Minister dead in the eyes as the man glared down at him. "And here they are. 'Good luck with your war Minister'. I would have added 'I hope Voldemort makes your death quick and painless', but then I would have been lying."
As the thrill of being able to finally speak his mind rolled over him, Harry pushed himself to his feet and stretched. "But of course, since you don't believe he's returned then I guess you'll be fine won't you?" he asked innocently. "You better pray that you're right Minister, because if you not? Because if Harry Potter was right?" he pressed as he slowly raised his hands and tipped them, the broken pieces of his wand falling to the floor and clattering across the polished stone.
"Well you're in a shitload of trouble aren't you?" he finished with a smirk, before turning on his heel and striding straight towards the door as a worried murmur burst into life behind him.
He could grieve for his wand later, (And he would probably cry for it too, something he felt his wand deserved), but right now he needed to at least look strong. He needed to conceal
Stepping into the hallway, he glanced over at Mr Weasley, the red-haired man looking up at him from where he was sitting against the wall. "They expelled me," he confessed simply, "Can we leave now?" he interrupted as the man opened his mouth with a pitying look on his face.
"Of course Harry," Mr Weasley agreed quickly, an understanding expression on his face as he stood up. "Do… do you think we have enough Muggle pounds to stop for ice-cream?" the man asked hesitantly as he looked at Harry from the corner of his eye.
"We do, but it's probably best that we head straight back to number 12," Harry admitted softly, "I'm sure Hermione could show Tonks to the store to buy some, I doubt the Headmaster would be happy if the Death Eaters kidnapped us because we stopped for ice-cream."
Mr Weasley let out a gentle chuckle at his words, "That's a very good point Harry," he agreed as they rounded the corner and started towards the elevator. "Although I'm sure Albus wouldn't blame you for stopping for ice-cream, that man's got more of a sweet tooth than a Cornish Pixie."
The forced smile slid of Harry's face as a smooth voice called Harry's name from behind them. "Mr Potter… good to see justice has been served," Lucius Malfoy continued as they turned to scowl at the smug looking man.
"Justice? I wasn't aware a Death Eater even knew the definition of the word," Harry countered darkly, figuring the man wouldn't try anything when the members of the Wizengamot were just stepping into the hallway. "Then again, I also wasn't expecting to see you here," he added as Malfoy's eyebrow rose in amusement, "I didn't think you'd be anywhere other than on your knees in front of your half-blooded master, like the good little slave you are," he said loudly, making the Wizengamot come to a sudden halt as they caught sight of the argument.
"Harry," Mr Weasley hissed, a hand grasping his elbow as Harry smiled calmly at Malfoy, deciding that since he'd already been expelled it wasn't like they could do anything more to him. "Enough."
"How dare you boy?" Malfoy began furiously, hand twitching towards his walking stick.
"Easily," Harry cut in, "After all I'm not the one here that runs around torturing and murdering muggles, am I?" he countered. "Has Fudge seen your arm since Voldemort returned? Has he seen how dark the Dark Mark is now?" he continued, smirking at Malfoy as the blond's eyes flicked towards the Wizengamot who were standing there paralyzed, all of them watching silently.
"I was held under the Imperius Curse during the First War," Lucius denied slowly, releasing his grip on his walking stick, "I have spent all my time since then trying to repent for the sins I committed while under it. Not that I would expect a mere schoolboy to know otherwise."
"Well…" Harry said slowly, pretending to have an epiphany. "That explains why your son acts like he does. I mean I'm immune to the Imperius Curse myself, but if you were held under the Imperius Curse for eleven years, then there's no wonder why your son is such a weak-willed loud-mouthed squib," he spat coldly, "Like father like son, I imagine," he finished innocently.
Malfoy's face twisted in fury almost instantly, and his hand was being pulled back to strike Harry before either of them knew what was happening, only for a surge of power from inside Harry's chest to lash out in Malfoy's direction. As what Harry automatically recognised as his magic struck Malfoy, the nearly invisible force lifted him off his feet and hurled him down the hallway to slide to a stop at Fudge's feet, the blond's wand clattering to the floor right at Harry's own feet.
Glancing down at the wand at his feet, a wicked idea hit Harry, and before he knew what he was doing he was stepping forward straight onto it. As the loud crack filled the air, Harry lifted his foot and faked a guilty look, "Oops, I guess I wasn't looking where I was going. You know how clumsy us schoolboys are."
Turning his back on them, Harry started towards the elevator again, Mr Weasley hurrying after him with an unrecognisable look on his face. "I…" Mr Weasley began as they stepped into the elevator and the doors slid closed, "I suppose I should be scolding you for saying what you did," he said quietly, "But since that was so bloody brilliant, I won't tell Molly if you don't."
Unable to stop himself, Harry was grinning up at Mr Weasley, who grinned back for a moment before they both burst into laughter. And just like that, Harry could almost pretend he didn't feel the pain pressing on his chest, the knowledge that he'd been expelled being hidden for just a second.
Calming themselves as the elevator reached the atrium, the two of them crossed the floors, ignoring the whispers and stares of the Wizards and Witches loitering around. "Let's just floo back," Mr Weasley decided, making Harry grimace as they headed towards the fireplaces lining the sides of the atrium, Wizards and Witches scattering from the line as they approached and letting them go through straight away.
"After you?" Mr Weasley offered, making Harry nod and grab the floo powder.
Throwing it into the fire with a murmured "Number 12 Grimmauld Place,", Harry stepped into the green flames and instantly felt like he was going to be sick, the spinning already making him clamp his eyes shut. Tucking his arms up and preparing to be spat out of the fireplace, Harry's eyes snapped open as the feeling of spinning vanished suddenly, a strange magic surrounding him with the feeling of family and warmth.
Find Sirius, my son a voice whispered in his ears, It is time to go to Camp. The Son of Hermes will guide you on your journey.
Before he even realised that he had actually heard the voice and that it wasn't a hallucination, Harry was stumbling out of the fireplace and bouncing into something soft, falling over himself and landing on top of someone who (Judging by the hair) could only be Hermione Granger.
Two hands grasped each of his arms, and Harry was lifted up to meet the grinning faces of the Twins as a blushing Hermione scrambled to her feet. "See! I told you Harry would get off," Mrs Weasley said dismissively from the kitchen table, "You didn't need to worry so much."
"Says you Mum!" one of the Twins pointed out, "You were basically tearing your hair out!" the other finished.
"Yes well," Mrs Weasley said with a blush as Hermione launched herself at Harry, crushing his ribs into a hug. "That doesn't matter now. Harry's returning to Hogwarts and everything is fine now. Actually, I think we have some cake left over, we should probably finish it off," the large woman rambled.
"I'm not," Harry corrected as he heard Mr Weasley coming through the fireplace, everyone coming to a halt as Hermione pulled away from him with a confused expression. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts," he forced out, not meeting any of their eyes as silence reigned through the room, "I've been expelled. They snapped my wand."
When nobody said anything, Harry nudged Hermione's arms off his shoulders and stepped away from her, his eyes flicking up to meet Sirius' guilt and shame-filled ones before the man vanished upstairs without another word.
"I'm… I'm going to go to my room now," he told the still silent room, "I want to be alone."
Clash of the Titans
Based off DZ2's Clash of the Titans challenge.
This story would be based off the Percy Jackson movies if I were to continue it, and sorry to tell most of you that it would also be slash of the Harry/Percy kind. I'm also proud to say that I'm getting back into the swing of things, with how I took a small break writing plot spiders (The manly version of plot bunnies), with jumping back to now being closer to breaking my 'Fifty Previews' goal.
I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson
(Thanks to Mikko for answering my question on disclaimers! I have no idea what NZ's law on disclaimers are, and since I'm not a lawyer I'm just going to keep including them just in case. Thanks for answering though!)