RWBY: Foresworn
Chapter III: Fuck this shit
"Fuck this." Harry groaned as he headbutted the oak table in Grimmauld Place.
"Fuck this shit, I'm out? Kind of shit?" Neville asked curiously.
Hermione merely handed Neville the Prophet and emblazoned on the Headline was a political shitpost that in essence wanted Harry to come and talk with Minister Scrimgeour.
"Fuck this Nev. Really, well and truly fuck this. I suppose, I can meet with the man…Find out what he's doing."
That got wide eyes from everyone, but Neville began to hold his breath "You've mellowed. I'm surprised your not rejecting this with a beater's bat." Ron commented, spewing sausages over everyone and getting two head slaps: one from Ginny and the other from Hermione.
Harry went for his Goblet, but stopped "What's been put in there?" Harry took a sniff, it smelt of Pumpkin juice and strangely enough treacle tart and the woody smell of broomstick polish.
His eyes flickered a different colour as he looked around the room "It's a…new Pumpkin juice." Ginny, replied blushing slightly and tensing.
"That smells of treacle tart, broomstick polish and pumpkin juice? I think someone or multiple people have tried to spike my drink…Now, the truth please."
Ginny sighed "I did…I don't think that…rabbit bitch is good enough for you…What, you need…"
"What, I need Ginervra Weasley; is to get rip-roaring drunk and then do some DIY Cerebral Recalibration on 99.9% of Wizarding Britain with either an extremely sharp sword or blunt lump of wood. What, I need is none of your business; everyone here bar five think they know what's best for me…you don't. No-one knows what's good for me, bar me. Honestly everyone, the prospect of having to marry in to this…fucked up, Victorian, Prejudiced, Stereotypical, Plutocratical, Spineless, Infective, Corrupt and quite frankly mentally subdued Culture makes me want to go to Ireland to buy some quality Irish Hemp-Rope and with some lovely Irish Maidens for my assistants help me perform the Hempen Jig at Sunrise."
"I only understood the insults, Harry…What's hemp rope? And what's a hempen jig?" Neville asked.
"Hemp rope is made from Cannabis…It is notoriously strong; i.e. to support a humanoid object from a singular location such as the neck. The hempen jig; is piratical phrase for hanging by the neck until dead."
Everyone's eyes widened "You'd rather die before having children! THAT'S…" Molly began to shriek.
"Molly, he isn't saying that…Harry is saying, he'd rather die than have any children in Wizarding Britain, am I right?" Asked Mr. Weasley.
"Correct. As far as I'm concerned, I'm here to deal with Tom and leave. I WILL be leaving a strict Terms and Conditions; just in case you group of inbred flustercucks and yes I am including all of Wizarding Britain from the young doe-eyed unfortunate idiots coming in up to the arrogant pacifistic and inept old timers represented by Dumbledore, get into your heads…and I know some have, to have me as your personal 'Evil Dark Lord Exterminator'. Now am I understood?"
Ron nodded "What about those who…want to leave?"
"It's a one-time offer, one-way trip. I'm not in the business of bringing people continuously to and from."
Ron nodded maturely "I might take you up on that. But first, concerning the paper…are you going to endorse Scrimgeour?"
Harry sighed "Never said anything about endorsing him. Only said I'd meet him."
"Harry, please…and I mean PLEASE, do not antagonise him."
"I won't unless he does something monumentally stupid."
Neville sighed, restraining Harry from going murderous was more and more of a challenge. He really wished Velvet was here; on look from her sweet disposition and Harry crumbled like sand-castle. Dumbledore then appeared in fireball with Fawkes "Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom a pleasant morning to you…or rather Mr. Potter, a grim morning indeed. I take it you've already seen the paper."
"I have…Headmaster, I am most certainly…annoyed at the Ministry."
Dumbledore nodded "Whilst, you've been away as you may well have noticed there has been…a shake up in Wizarding Britain Politics and Policy. With that shake up, I have been reinstated into my various positions so whilst I do have the majority of my old influence back, however my influence and guiding voice…or as you call it my pacifistic martyr-complex and several other delightful insults does not seem to hold sway over Minister Scrimgeour."
"But you've met the man? Know the man? What am I walking into?"
"Met the man…yes, an exceptionally sharp student and an even more capable auror. In the eye of the public, he's the man for the job."
Harry grunted "Something like looking the part of a grizzled auror and a 'man of action'. Someone to be seen by the public that the Ministry is 'doing something' and is much more pro-active fighting Tommy Riddle."
Dumbledore nodded "Aye…correct, but you're thinking something else."
Harry nodded "I have a sinking feeling, he prioritises appearances and the reputation of the Ministry than the safety of Wizarding Britain…What's he likely to make me do? Dumbledore, I want your honest opinion…none of this fancy, pompous, pontificating bullshit. I want the view of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; the Defeater of Grindlewald and scared Tom Riddle shitless."
Dumbledore let out a sharp breath and seemed to age a decade in a second "Scrimgeour, is likely to try and force you into being the Ministerial Mascot and endorse his legislation; akin to Bartemius Crouch Senior…However, should you choose to defy him, he will see it as an affront and challenge to his tenuous and thing grasp on power."
Harry's eyes turned molten red, a shade of red more traditionally seen in his paternal aunt's face. "Well…he will be horribly mistaken…let's meet the man and hope I don't decide to fillet the man."
Dumbledore blanched and turned to Neville "Is he normally like this?"
"He's worse normally…Much, much worse. Best choice, let him curse this out. We had better strike gold on the Horcruxes and soon."
(Gringotts)
Bill Weasley, clocked in as normal but, today was met by a retinue of Goblins. There were 12 in Total, two he knew instinctively were higher up as the other ten were heavily armed. "Grave Robber Captain, you requested an urgent audience above your nominal superiors?"
Bill nodded "Honoured Elders and Honoured Escort, may your profits be ever growing."
"And may your corpses not kill you Captain…Come, time is money. The reason Lord Ragnuck is willing to meet you is because of your reputation."
Bill nodded and followed the Goblins; he was led to a pair of magnificent obsidian and granite doors. Bill entered upon the voiced order; the doors swung open. "Grave Robber, what can Gringotts do for you?"
"Your Imperial Majesty, I have come to inform you of the discovery of Horcruxes and the disturbing correlation of activity of insidiuous activity since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named re-appeared forcing Wizarding kind to acknowledge his return."
Ragnuck, looked at his human subordinate and employee "You say Horcruxes?"
"Yes, sire."
"You believe that one might be sequestered in Gringotts or has passed through the halls of Gringotts?"
"Yes, sire."
Ragnuck grunted "It would be better if we checked…Grave Robber Captain Weasley; this is a personal assignment from the Goblin Nation Gringotts all resources you require to discern the truth of this."
"And if it is true?"
"Report back to me. Gringotts will ensure the correct procedures are done."
Bill Weasley nodded, bowed "By your leave?"
"Granted. Grave Robber; make your profits grow and your enemies fall to your blade."
"Same to you, Your Grace."
With that the eldest Weasley left. Ragnuck, nodded. It wouldn't do to have these abominations running around, no matter who they belonged to. The purity and wholeness of the soul came first, no matter whose vaults you protected.
(Harry)
"Are you ready?" Dumbledore asked?
"More or less. Throw in, announce destination clearly; enter and keep walking. Come out of fireplace weakest leg first to prevent you landing on your ass or face…Then resist the temptation to commit war on stupidity."
Dumbledore chuckled at that "I believe that is my job Mr. Potter."
"No, yours is to educate us on previous levels of stupid and what happens when we are stupid. It is not your place for the young to declare their elders 'stupid and insane'. In fact all my distaste and desire to go all 1789 on Wizarding Britain, the fact my peers are inheriting the world are still unfortunately 'learning ignorance and claiming it education at the tit', I can't be a little concerned."
Snape, who was making one of his few reports at Grimmauld spoke "I do not understand Potter. For one who is all bile and vinegar at the Wizarding World, you speak warmly of it. Make up your damn…"
"You tell me what to fucking do, you stupid petty, primitive, petty and greasy haired, hooked nose rent boy Death Eater, one more time Snape…I'll take your guts out, take a shit in them and send you back to your master with my shit in your guts." Harry snarled, he hadn't forgiven Snape for Third Year or any Year since they'd met.
Snape stepped backwards at the sheer venom in the tone "You…"
"You will shut your mouth if you wish to live." Neville stated "I have a desire to see you suffer for your blatant unprofessionalism at teaching…Just hope Harry and I, do not capture you in Death Eater robes."
Snape blanched and left with a sharp crack "I wish…"
"You wish on the tears spilt by babies and sour lemon drops. Snape and I, we're only going to end this argument when one of us leaves in a coffin." Harry replied before calling "Ministry of Magic, Floo Network!"
Harry appeared in the Floo, swayed but managed to remain upright. As he did so, he noticed reporters from the Prophet and other magazines, crowded around an erected platform, where a microphone was positioned. Harry watched, and pulled his hood up and waited. Soon enough, Rufus Scrimgeour appeared; footfalls accompanied by a cane.
Harry wasn't fooled. He had been observant and his time as a Huntsman had only honed that, the walking stick had a wand core in it. The walking stick, was for show and occasionally ease walking. Harry snorted, Scrimgeour was definitely the man Wizard Britain thought it needed for these dark times ahead.
He was accompanied by one Body Guard, that either spoke of either Scrimgeour's own martial skill or his Body Guard's skill. Then again from what Harry saw, in Rufus's lionlike appearance with gleaming brown eyes, that in the poor light of the Ministry Atrium came across yellow, his ragged and matted black mane of hair that ever so resembled a lion seemed to gleam. hHa
"These are dark time, there is no denying. Our world has, perhaps, faced no greater threat than it does today. But I say this to our citizenry and constituents: we, ever your servants, will continue to defend your liberty and repel the forces that seek to take it from you! Your Ministry…remains…strong."
After a multitude of questions, that appeared to only target the glamour of the new Minister's Ministry. Harry dropped his hood "Minister, what actual progress have you done? Has the budget of the Auror Corps been increased? What about Auror Cadet Numbers? Have you repealed or even lightened the decree of underage sorcery? What is your stance for civilians and aurors, who might for whatever happens come across or are alerted to a Death Eater raid in action?"
"Who are you to gleam information that…" A reporter began, but he faltered. One, he realised who was speaking and two he had a sword; definitely not one of pomp and ceremonial but this blade was 60inches of honed and sharpened steel; with glowing colours embedded near the hilt.
"My name is Hadrian Potter, and I am here upon the Ministers request. Furthermore, the future actions I take in regards to 'out citizenry and constituents: we, ever your servants, will continue to defend your liberty and repel the forces that seek to take it from you!' Is that…satisfactory?"
Rufus's eyes widened with delight at seeing Harry arrive "Mr. Potter; it is good to see you."
Harry locked eyes with the Minister "I fear you, have me at a disadvantage good Minister. I know you not, but yet you know me."
"Head Auror…Sorry, Minister Rufus Scrimgeour; formerly of the DMLE."
"Minister Scrimgeour, well met…I trust we can talk? In private. For…I fear, for our discussions to bear fruit and for us all to get what we desire this will require a heart-to-heart. Unfortunately, you may distrust him for whatever reason but I request Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock Dumbledore be present. Not only for our safety but also showing that in despite of our socio-economic, political and philosophical beliefs that you Minister is listening and working across the Ministry to assist in the stamping out of the Dark; in the form of Lord Voldemort. Yes, I speak his name, for fear of a name only increases fear itself. We are in dark times, people, very dark times. People might remember them better than I; but people we know and people we care about will die, I…seek to end this with all haste, fire and fury that I can to prevent another eleven to thirty years of distrust."
"Yes; for Wizarding Britain to prosper and come out united differences need to be set aside. Come, Mr. Potter, Chief Warlock much needs to be done and very little time. For the future of Wizarding Britain."