Chapter 13
Kai, in his Nicholas Gryffindor form, blew into the Wizengamot chamber like a strong wind, blood red Gryffindor robes billowing behind him, catching every eye in the room.
The room was circular with seats sloping to the floor. On the far side at the top was the seating for the Chief Warlock and his council. Kai sneered internally as he saw Cornelius Fudge sitting in with the council.
His lips curled into a sneer, 'I don't want to deal with that incompetent man.'
A short woman dressed in pink stood next to the minister, carrying a conversation with Albus Dumbledore who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there.
He strode down the stairs on one side, crossed the floor and up towards the council seats. He changed his walk from Kai's feline-like movement which fit his smaller, leaner form to Nicholas' longer, more powerful strides. Nicholas' form was bigger, broader, older. A blade master's form.
"Lord Gryffindor?" there was no twinkle in the headmaster's eyes.
"Lord Dumbledore," Kai nodded to him respectfully.
"Can we speak for a moment?" that felt like an order, but this had to be done.
"Of course," he replied politely and gestured for the older man to step away.
They stood at the back, wrapped in a silencing spell, looking out over the masses.
"Before you say anything, Headmaster, no, I will not back down from my position. When I gave Kai as a point of communication, I did not mean you could harass him. It is just that sort of foolishness and heavy-handedness that suggests you are not the one for this job. The state of the British Wizarding world is degrading and you are doing nothing about it. Instead of mourning your loss of power, celebrate that beginning of a better time."
Dumbledore's eyes hardened, "Do the other members know?"
"Of course."
"How is it not in the papers yet?"
"I called upon the Wizengamot Secrecy Code. They were magically bound to hold it as a secret until I release them. I'm controlling the press release, of course; I'm aware of the dishonesty of some of the Prophet's reporters. I've invited a trustworthy one here today to report on the happenings."
Dumbledore held in a sigh; there was nothing he could do to stop it. Now all that he could do was befriend this new player and see how much control he could exert over him until he could be removed from the position.
"Mr. Boudreau has said good things about you."
"Kai is a very loyal individual; I am privileged to call him a friend," 'Nicholas' suppressed a smirk as he spoke.
"Are you working with him on his latest project?"
Kai knew he was trying to fish out Gryffindor's allegiances. He decided to throw the man a bone. "Of course, how could I resist? Kai's projects tend to stir up much drama. It's better to be in-the-know so to speak."
"Indeed, he does stir up trouble doesn't he? I will give him my apologies when I see him on Monday. I was worried and I didn't mean to press him as I did," Dumbledore lied smoothly.
"I'm sure he'd appreciate that," Nicholas waved a hand and '1:00' appeared before his eyes. "You'll have to excuse me, it is time for the session to open."
Nicholas pretended not to see the sharp frown the older man gave him. He wasn't trying to instigate something with Dumbledore, but he was mad at the older man for the harassment he'd gone through before this session. On top of it, while he was researching the laws, he'd been disgusted by the vicious bills that had been approved under his rule.
The now tall blonde stepped up to the podium, "Hello and welcome to the 1513th session of the British Wizengamot. Thank you all for coming. As you may have figured out, I am Lord Nicholas Gryffindor. I was notified previously of my hereditary right to the leadership of this body, but I did not want to interfere in the governing over a country I did not currently reside. Recent events, however, have driven me to take action. I hope that we can work together to bring this isle out of its time of darkness."
Looking out over the body of people he asked, "I open the floor to questions before we start the session."
"You are a foreigner, are you? Time of darkness? What right do you have to come here and criticize us? Britain is doing perfectly well!"
The minister had started this battle earlier than Nicholas had expected.
"What right do I have to come here and criticize you?"
Nicholas' voice was cold as ice.
"What right? You sit here, looking down on the wizarding world yet you explicitly ignore its crumbling foundations. The UK wizarding world has a disease, Lords and Ladies, and that disease is arrogance and stagnation. The rest of the world is growing, improving, its people flourishing. New spells, potions, technomagic are being created, but most never make it here. They are rejected for being 'dark' or seen as below you because of the use of nonmagical technology."
"You treat the other magical beings you share the world with as inferior, lowly, while they bear intelligence and power equal to and even greater than our own. Look at the centaurs, they have the power of prophecy and wisdom far beyond even what our most powerful seers could imagine, yet they're treated like cattle."
"Werewolves are not even a different species but people with a magical disease and yet they're treated like lepers. Children are sick and dying because you deny them their most basic rights like food, education, shelter, and health care! And you sit upon your cushioned seats like you're superior?"
"And worst of all," Nicholas smacked his palm upon the podium top, "a war is being fought in the UK, people are dying everyday at the hands of Voldemort's Death Eaters..."
Gasps of shock cut off his speach.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake! The security and secrecy of our world is at stake and what do you speak of?" he raised the meeting schedule up. "Cauldron bottom thickness and flying carpets? What does that do for those frightened and dying? Nothing. And you ask why I felt compelled to step in? Ask me again if you still feel I'm wrong doing so."
Throwing the itinerary down on the surface before him, Nicholas took a step back, cool eyes looking out at the stunned audience.
The first tentative light went on, followed by more.
A woman, tall and stately, stood when called upon and identified herself as Augusta Longbottom, Regent of House Longbottom. 'Neville's grandmother?' he wondered.
"Can you explain further what you mean about children being denied their basic rights? I have heard of none of this. Most people in this body would never want something like that happen."
"Yes Madame I will. I feel very passionately about the cause of the werewolf in England," with a flick of his wrist, Nicholas projected an image of a young boy, face tired and weary with a look of deep sadness within his eyes. "This is Aaron. He's six and has been showing the symptoms of lycanthropy since the age of four, as is normal. Aaron is now very sick with diseases beyond the werewolf infection as he is not receiving the care he desperately requires."
"Why do the parents not take the child to St. Mungo's? They refuse no wizard or witch," a call came from near the front.
"But they do," Gryffindor's heir corrected. "The ministry barred infected individuals from even entering St. Mungo's, even though they are not contagious when in human form. So Aaron gets sicker and sicker but cannot get help except for travelling healers willing to risk their licenses. If this continues, Aaron won't live to see his 7th birthday."
"That's awful," Lady Longbottom snapped, "inhuman even!"
"It gets worse Madame. Wolfsbane potion is a potion that not only treats the pain of the transformation for werewolves, it lets them keep their mind, which makes the experience much less terrifying for the children. Imagine telling a four-year-old child that once a month he would turn into a creature out of their control. That it would be horribly painful and leave them sick for days afterwards. Wolfsbane greatly helps this. Whilst it can be a difficult potion to brew, it is not expensive to produce and can be made in large batches. Unfortunately, it is a ministry controlled potion and the price is raised far above cost. Therefore, Aaron's parents can't afford to buy it as they are also infected and therefore can't have jobs."
"Why don't they have jobs," the woman asked, "I know a werewolf that's now well employed."
"I know who you're talking about Madame and I wouldn't spread it around. By order of the ministry, werewolves are not allowed to have any work above that of a house elf and especially not work that had contact with people. This, because of the slavery of house elves, leaves them with very little available work. So, they live in poverty and squalor, getting sicker and sicker, unable to have the proper housing to lock themselves in on the full moon. This raises the risk of accidental infection. Werewolves in other countries have equal rights to wizards and most would leave this country for another but the government here won't let them immigrate. The whole system does not make any sense."
"You dare insult the system put forth by your ministry?" the toad-lady screeched from down the row. "It's nothing better than the half-breeds deserve!"
"So," Nicholas purred, "the ministry does not deny that these are the conditions enforced by their departments?"
That shut the woman up, or rather, that made Fudge shut the woman up. "Of course we deny them! What you say is nothing but lies," the minister countered.
"So these documents, bearing the signature of yourself and Madame Umbridge, that strip the rights of werewolves down to that of the lowest creature are forged?"
A stack of papers, bearing the signature and seal of the MOM appeared in front of each Wizengamot member. As you went deeper into the pile, the documents, which were laws, got more and more restrictive and vicious towards werewolves.
"Why do you think Voldemort," Nicholas rolled his eyes at their flinch, "has so many allies? Do you think that if werewolves and vampires were treated equally that some many of them would need to go elsewhere for help? Voldemort promises them freedom and equal rights. He's lying of course, but some are willing to pledge themselves for just the chance that they could rise up out of the poverty stricken life they have been trapped in. What does the ministry offer them? Pain and death for them and their families."
"Now see here Gryffindor! You-Know-Who has not returned! And even if he did, if the werewolves have joined him they should all be exterminated! You will cease spreading your lies instantly!" Fudge was on his feet now, face red with anger.
"Observe my fellow Lords, the instinctual reaction of the ministry to threat, a quick retreat then a violent lashing out at any possible threat," the tall young mage pointed out, treating the Minister like an animal in a zoo rather than a high ranking official. This was to further anger the man. "Instead of sitting back and wondering, why is this threat occurring, how can we stop it and at the same time prevent it from occurring again, they use the knee-jerk reaction: exterminate the problem. The problem with that is, you can't just exterminate a problem like this. More will come and they will hate you more than the last. The foolish policies of this administration must be reviewed and revamped. We are approaching a new millennium, friends, and we cannot hide in the legislation of yesterday."
"What gives you the right to come in here and criticize me and my administration?! I've led this ministry for seven years…"
"And there have been more 'unexplained' deaths in the past four than in all the years since the last fall of Voldemort! Your ministry is out of control."
The Minister's face continued to redden, his eyes wide in anger, "Those are perfectly explainable…accidents. And my ministry is completely in my control. I know everything that goes on in it."
Nicholas looked upon the older man, blue eyes cold as ice, "Many families seem to be accidentally torturing and Avada Kedavra-ing themselves these days then haven't they?" He paused for effect, "And Minister, since you know everything, will you explain to me how one of the highest level employees of the Department of Mysteries turned up dead on the floor of the DMLE early this morning bearing a Dark Mark?"
"Cease your lies!" Fudge looked around nervously, "No such thing occurred."
"Actually, Cornelius, it did," Amelia Bones stood from her seat just down from the Minster. A squared-jawed woman with close-cropped grey hair, she stood tall and confident. "I have here a report filed by one of my Aurors. Unspeakable Augustus Rookwood was portkeyed, dead, into the main Auror office at 2:03 am this morning. Most importantly, his left forearm bore the Dark Mark."
The occupants of the room gasped, eyes wide at the implications of this.
"As you may or may not know, Voldemort is the only one who can cast the spell for the Dark Mark, having created it himself. This spell is also done in Parseltongue. So, this says one of two things. Either this is proof that Voldemort is alive and has recently marked Rookwood, or the ministry has Death Eaters from the last war roaming its departments. Now, Minister Fudge, I believe it's both, but which will you cede to?"
The members' eyes danced from Gryffindor to the Minister, watching avidly what could happen next. The older man's face had reached a new level of purplish-red, one that Nicholas associated solely with his Uncle Vernon.
"Lies! This is treason! Aurors, arrest this man!"
The Aurors paused in their positions, taking in the obviously powerful wizard. He had done nothing wrong, why should they arrest him?
The first of them began to move when the call went out, "Aurors, hold."
It was Amelia Bones.
"Amelia, what are you doing? This man is obviously a dark wizard trying to pull down my government!"
"No, Cornelius, such a thing is not obvious. He has done nothing wrong and therefore my Aurors will not be arresting him."
'Ahhh that is where Susan gets that attitude I like so much from.'
"Beyond that, Minister, I am not a British national; therefore, you cannot arrest me for treason against a country I am not a citizen of," the disguised assassin looked out over the crowd. "Minister Fudge, it is a privilege, not a right, that you are allowed in this courtroom. You are not the Lord of a ruling house, and therefore have no place here. Currently, you are only disrupting the progress of this session. As such, I'm going to have to ask you to remove yourself from this courtroom."
That dropped a number of jaws, but no one could deny this man's authority in this matter. They were so used to Dumbledore's genial mask, hiding an undercurrent of manipulation, that this in-your-face approach was foreign to them. One look at him and you knew that he meant business. That worried the dark families was he a light extremist? They knew he could get things done, but he hadn't yet shown any sympathy to dark wizards, just dark creatures. The dark neutrals knew that if he showed support to their way of life then he would have their loyalty.
"And Madame Umbridge as well," Nicholas added to his own hidden amusement.
"You can't do that!" the woman screeched, her voice grating on Nicholas' nerves.
"In fact I can. If you refuse to leave I will have to ask the Aurors to escort you out."
Dumbledore sat back and watched the proceedings with interest. Gryffindor had an interesting approach; he was certainly a wild card. The headmaster was encouraged and consoled slightly by the obvious open-mindedness and compassion with which the tall blond presented his cause. He appeared to be a true Gryffindor on the surface, but Dumbledore could see the Slytherin underneath. He had, very quickly taken over the Wizengamot, shocked many of its members into a stupor, probably creating a mindset that would have werewolf legislation changed by the end of the week, and kicked the Minister and Undersecretary out of the courtroom. He had gained the respect of the members and had easily removed the headmaster's own power. The younger man had too much charisma; even Dumbledore felt drawn to him, which frustrated Albus to no end. But, there was nothing to be done right now; all he could do was sit back and observe. Until he had gathered enough information on this new player he could not make his first move. He leaned back in his new position just to the right of the new Wizengamot Head and prepared to watch the show.
"I will not leave! I am the Minister of Magic, you cannot speak to me like that!" the heavier man had jumped to his feet, wand drawn. The Aurors shifted uneasily, sensing the increasing hostility coming from the minister, subtly releasing their wands from their holsters into their hands. Nicholas did the same with the 14 inch yew and holly wand he'd had it made for situations like this. This wand was special. It was made with two phoenix feathers and a feather from his thestral form inside. The combination was the only one that would tolerate him casting magic around it. He couldn't actually cast with it, but he could wrap his magic around the wand to make it look like he was casting with it. Unfortunately, it would only take about eight spells in any given hour before getting very hot and unstable.
Nicholas calmly stared the man down, looking every inch relaxed, "Actually Minister, this is my domain, I have every right to ask you to be removed from this room."
Fudge flew into a rage at Nicholas' demeanor. He was the most powerful man in the wizarding world, how dare this upstart step into his territory!
The first curse left the minister's wand before the Aurors could step in.
Nicholas batted the weak disarming curse away with his wand hand and took a step closer to the man. He easily deflected the next series of low level childish curses, muttering to himself in his head about people's pathetic self-defense abilities.
"Cornelius Fudge, there is no violence in these chambers; it is written in the magic of this hall. You desecrate the oaths made by ourselves and our fore-fathers. So it is written."
"Magic's will be done," the gathering echoed before they realized. It was all those who had sworn the oaths of the Wizengamot.
The assassin in disguise took a step closer to the man.
"You bring lies and hate into this hall. You, who have no right to be here, so it is written."
"Magic's will be done."
Another step. A light glow appeared around the minister.
"For this, magic bars you and your associates from this room until such a time that it judges you worthy to return. In the old laws it is written."
"Magic's will be done."
The glow got brighter and brighter.
"What is going on Gryffindor?! What is this dark mag..."
And then the balding man vanished. With a squeak, Umbridge disappeared as well.
Silence descended over the room as the Aurors stared at him blankly.
"Lord Gryffindor, it has been many a year since the old laws have been called upon," an old voice wheezed from what a few halfblood heirs referred to as 'the Dark Side', the side composed almost entirely of the dark pureblood lords.
"I know and respect the old ways and laws. Do you?" Nicholas replied, blue eyes flashing.
"The old ways are in my blood and of my blood, but most light wizards view them as dark and archaic. Why are you different?"
The Lion Lord leaned on the podium, looking the old finely dressed man in the eyes, "There are no light wizards or dark, there is only magic and those who use it for good or evil. The old ways and laws are neither dark or light, they are simply customs and traditions that some choose to respect and follow and others do not. Many who choose to know that the true magical customs bring you closer to the source of all magic."
"But frankly," he continued, "we are not here to talk about me. I am here because this body has not been doing its job. Why? I do not know. It may be the ministry; it may be many things. What is important is that this is going to change."
Another stack of papers appeared before the representatives; these were neatly organized in folders and highlighted.
"I looked through the faulty laws I felt most affect the British Wizarding World. Please review these documents and be prepared to comment and vote on amendments in the next meeting, date set for October 1. Are there any statements or questions before I close this session?"
The group seemed to want to sleep on the happenings of the session and save their compiled questions for the next session.
"I have one, Lord Gryffindor," Amelia Bones stood. "In light of the observed case of a Death eater in one of our most secure departments in the ministry, I request permission to do Death Eater checks among the staff of the ministry. We cannot afford to be infiltrated by a terrorist association in a time of war."
Nicholas was unsurprised by this. He had hoped she would do this as a response to his dumping a Death Eater in their midst.
"What type of questioning or checks would you do on these people?" he responded, wanting to make sure this was done right.
"Firstly, we'd lock down each department and would take people into questioning one department at a time, to avoid people escaping questioning. We'd perform Dark Mark checks on each individual and ask, under truth serum, if they support the Dark Lord. If they answer yes, or have the Dark Mark, then we will go to another slightly heavier set of questioning until we see what level they have been involved in his organization. Those that test clean will be released to a location in the ministry to be sent home. Those that don't will be held here until they can be charged," her plan was clean and thought out, Nicholas liked it.
"I will put this proposal to the vote on one condition. The questioning will not delve into members use, or not use of certain branches of magic. This will not turn into a manhunt for so-called 'dark wizards'."
Loud clapping erupted from the side of the old dark families.
"That is agreeable."
"Then I put to vote Madame Bones' proposition of a mass questioning of the departments of the ministry on Death Eater activity. Those who agree tap your wand to the globe in front of you."
It was a slow vote, a light popping up before some booths quickly, some slowly, but in the end, most were lit. Nicholas was pleased at the group's willingness.
"The vote is tallied: the effort will begin immediately."
They stood alone in the side room. The tall, sharply dressed woman chuckled as Nicholas weaved anti-spy wards on the room.
"That was impressive Nicholas; this will make quite the article. I don't imagine that the members expected that they would be included in the questioning," she chuckled. "Though you volunteering to be the first questioned made them feel more at ease."
"Yes, the article will hopefully be what it needs to be," the Lord leaned on the edge of the room's long table as he spoke.
"I will do everything as we have discussed it. The story on the questionings will break on Monday, hopefully with some statistics to back it," she paced casually in front of him, heels clicking a steady beat, black silk pencil skirt swishing.
"You have the statistics I got from my werewolf sources?"
"Of course, you know I'm on it. And yes, it'll be done perfectly. This set of stories will make my career. You can count on me."
"Good," Nicholas nodded, "I look forward to reading the article."
"I best be gone then, much work to do," with a quick handshake she was leaving. "I'll send you a draft before I send it to press."
"Thank you."
As she walked out, Amelia Bones and Dumbledore walked in.
"Ahh, Nicholas, we found you. Impressive showing today," Dumbledore twinkled, hiding his annoyance at his recent questioning.
The tall blonde bristled slightly at the Headmaster's use of his first name.
"You're a very passionate speaker Lord Gryffindor; you made me see things in a way I've never looked at them before. I have a lot of thinking to do," Amelia cut in.
"Thank you Madame Bones, and please, call me Nicholas, I believe we'll be working very closely in these coming months," he held out his hand.
She shook it, "Yes we will. I certainly look forward to the changes that appear to be on the horizon."
"Me as well. I respect how well you've worked with the DMLE under these circumstances," he paused. "There is one thing I saw on the addenda that really surprised me. You're still hunting for Harry Potter?"
"Well of course, my boy, we need to bring the child home do we not?" Dumbledore twinkled.
"Child?" Nicholas made his voice sound startled. "Harry Potter, if he is indeed alive, would be of age now. Therefore, you finding him or not would do little."
"What if he is being held hostage by the Dark Lord?"
"For eight years? When he's only been back for five? Highly unlikely."
"Well, what if he has not found magic? His letters all returned unopened."
"That suggests that either, one, he's dead; two, he got accepted to another school before that; or three, he's mail warded. If he's alive, he has no doubt found magic, just likely in another country under another name. Frankly, if he hasn't come forward to you yet, he doesn't want to," Nicholas moved closer to Dumbledore, subtly using his power to assert dominance.
"A wizard as powerful as him needs proper guidance."
"An of-age wizard is beyond the time in which he accepts guidance of that sorts Dumbledore. Be honest with me, what do you really want with the boy?"
Amelia stepped between them, "Nicholas, Nicholas, I'm sure he has good reasons. There is no need to get confrontational."
"I want to give the boy the training he will need."
"To do what?"
"Protect himself from the Dark Lord."
"Seems that he's doing a good job himself. Riddle would have put on a show already if he'd been found. So isn't all this searching actually putting this boy more at risk? Tell the truth, you want to train him to fight the Dark Lord for you."
Amelia stopped herself before she automatically defended Dumbledore, scanning back in her memory. It made so much sense. The long years searching, 'it's for the great good' indeed.
Dumbledore's eyes widened marginally, losing their twinkle, "I believe we should talk about this in another location. My office perhaps?"
"Perhaps, Dumbledore, but not today. Madame Bones, can we have a chat somewhere while the ministry is on lockdown?"
Kai returned to Hogwarts as himself later that evening feeling quite pleased. Fifteen marked Death Eaters and 25 Dark Lord supporters and spies had been arrested that afternoon. His plans were well on their way.
One thing still bothered him though; this continued search for Harry Potter. This set him on edge. His current location put him at the biggest risk for discovery. At the same time, there was almost nothing to tie him to Harry Potter. The only ones that knew wouldn't tell and else there was simply his scar, which he kept hidden on the inside of his thigh at all times. The chances of discovery were slim, but they still bothered him. Discovery would ruin his life. The assassin also knew little about the search for Harry Potter so far, as it had been done on the low. Had they gone to his relatives? Seen what they had done to him? Kai shuddered at the thought.
Needing to know more, he threw on a casual shirt and jeans and made his way to the Defense rooms on the third floor. Knocking, he strode in, seeing Remus sitting on the couch, Sirius, in dog form, at his feet by the fire. Sirius bounded up, leaping onto his newly discovered godson, transforming into human in the air.
"Oof!" Kai caught Sirius in the air, but couldn't keep the animagus' momentum from dumping them both on the floor. The assassin rolled over and grabbed the older man in a headlock then bonking him on the head.
"Idiot," he growled good-naturedly, "trying to get yourself killed?"
Running hands through long hair, Kai sat in the comfortable chair across from Remus. "Gryffindor told me some interesting things today."
"Yeah?" Sirius asked, lounging gracelessly on the floor.
"Yeah, I did not know that the government was still actively searching for me. That they had been searching for me since my just after my 11th birthday."
Remus and Sirius looked at each other uncomfortably.
"The search began when all of your Hogwarts letters returned unopened. We then sent a representative to the Dursleys, they were barred entrance. The Order went in full force then," Remus' lip was twisted in disgust.
"When we got there, they acted like you hadn't even existed. There was no sign of you anywhere, no pictures, no remnants, nothing. We questioned them again and again with little results. Finally, the Order took drastic measures. We questioned them under Veritaserum."
Kai's eyes widened marginally, not good.
"When we heard about what they had done and how they had treated you, it just disgusted us. For a while we were happy that you had eventually run away as we saw it, that is, until we got to the end of your stay with them."
Sirius' eyes hardened, his voice like ice, "I can't believe Dumbledore left you in that hell-hole! I mean, eight years of little food, slave labour and...and...and AHRRR!" The convict picked up his glass of whiskey and threw it against the wall. Looking withdrawn, Kai repaired the glass unconsciously.
"What Sirius was trying to say, Harry, is that we were disturbed by how viciously your Uncle beat you," Remus placed the final nail.
Kai visibly flinched. He had pushed past all that a long time ago, but it was still hard to hear and be reminded of it. He was almost 10 years away from that place now.
You're worthless, you hear me freak. You're lucky we don't just throw you out on the street like the worthless piece of shit you are...
Gods, he hated that place...
...the pain was overwhelming, seemingly coming from all places at once. He had long past closed his eyes and curled into the fetal position, trying to protect his internal organs. Longish black hair stuck to him with sweat and blood as he held his head in his hands, gritting his teeth against the pain...
"He told us about that night, Harry, the one before you disappeared."
The night he was awoken.
The night his world changed.
The night from hell.
...Vernon had come home from work drunker than Kai had ever seen him, raging over his apparently undeserved loss of position at his job. Dudley and Petunia knew better than to stick around, fleeing in the car to 'pick up things that Vernon needed.' Kai, unfortunately, had no such escape. He was, at that time, locked up in his cupboard under the stairs.
He smelt Vernon before he saw him and had curled up in his back corner, trying to be unseen and unheard. But the man had always taken out his problems on someone else and, as always, Kai was conveniently there.
"He nearly beat you to death. In fact, he thought you were dead."
Consciousness was fleeting, all he knew was that he was being dragged but had no idea where. He guessed later that he was unconscious for most of the trip because he thankfully never felt his broken bones go over the door jams or the back steps.
He heard a shovel digging ground, and felt, in his dizziness, a strange feeling of curiosity. The digging sound seemed to go on for hours.
"He so believed you were dead that he tried to hide the evidence."
The child never knew where Vernon found that wooden crate but the next time he awoke he was crammed inside of it, buried God-knows how deep in soil. He knew this as when he pushed and banged on the box more and more streams of dirt would fall into the box. Harry was a calm child, but suffice to say, he freaked out. He clawed and smashed with his entire body against these barriers, trying to free himself. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping him going, his body already tired and broken. Panic and horror settled deep into his soul. He felt this indescribable feeling bubbling up inside of him, born of this fear and hatred for his Uncle, building and building and building, until...
"Your uncle says you blew up the entire back yard, shed and all. He found you laying in the center of the crevice, shards of wood around you, completely healed and glowing in power."
Kai remembered none of this, having been unconscious after the blast, which turned out to be the awakened mage power within him, a power among select magic wielders only awakened under dire circumstances. Next thing he had remembered was waking up, healed, among the garbage bins of some street on the outskirts of sector 2 London with only the bloody, torn clothes on his back.
"So I suppose everyone knows about their hero now?" Kai said bitterly into the silence.
"No, no one but some in the Order know about that incident, but all knew that your family hated you and treated you very poorly. You must understand why the search for you was so hard in the opening years after the discovery?" Remus stated, the calmest of the three, at least visibly, although you could see flashes of amber in his eyes.
"Yes, but why continue now?"
"The people wish to continue now almost out of habit and a lingering desire to save their savior. The political community desires you as a figurehead for their campaign and the dark, well, the dark wants you for obvious reasons."
"And we wanted you because we love you and missed you and wanted you to come home," Sirius interjected. "I mean, as soon as I found out, gods-be-damned I found a way out of that prison."
That clicked on a light bulb in Kai's head. "On that topic, how did you break out, because I need to break in."