Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think. I encourage feedback of all kinds; just be nice about it!
I'm Sorry! I know it's been so long since I last posted. I actually had this done for a while, but I kept going back to edit and alter it, and I wanted to add more but couldn't decide how to incorporate it, so I'm posting now so I stop nitpicking it and allow myself to go on with the other chapters.
Thank you to everyone who inquired about how I was doing. You're all incredibly kind. I am doing well. I'm just struggling to focus on writing. Everyone's continued interest and desire for this story has really helped me, and I can't say thanks enough.
Now, this chapter, like I said, I've been nitpicking for months, but I think it's pretty good. Jumping back into the political scene with the Wizengamot and Harry having to answer for some of his recent actions that affect the Wizarding Community. I hope you all enjoy it. I can't promise when the next chapter will be. There will be one, but I just can't say when. Like, I really wanted to post this before Christmas but couldn't focus. But posting around New Year's has to be a good sign for the coming year, writing-wise...right?
I Know
Harry fidgeted with the sleeves of his Wizengamot robes as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Marvolo hovered behind him, watching him with sharp red eyes. Harry was irritated and didn't bother trying to hide it as he fussed with his Wizengamot robes and white mourning band, which he needed to wear for a few more days. Marvolo already knew his feelings, so trying to conceal them was unnecessary.
The notice had arrived during breakfast: Emergency Wizengamot Session.
Harry did not like being unprepared. But it was happening, and he knew Dumbledore was behind it all.
Plus, he needed to rearrange his plans today – an additional annoyance he placed squarely at Dumbledore's feet. He had plans to meet Amelia for lunch to discuss the Azkaban changes. He wanted to give her the heads up and to prepare a handful of solutions before presenting the news to the public, a united front to ease the panic the news would cause. He and Marvolo had already crafted a few solutions he planned to present to Amelia, but now those plans would be put on hold.
She would be there today, Harry considered with a tilt of his head, observing his reflection. So maybe afterward, if they had the mental energy, he and Amelia could still meet to discuss the security changes…maybe not all was lost today after all. Marvolo brushed the wrinkles out of the shoulders of his robes, and Harry sent him a small nod and smile for the actions. He pulled on the white mourning band still around his arm. He only had a few more days left to wear it, and he'd almost forgotten it more than he'd like to admit.
"You think I'm ever going to have a chance to study with my tutors?" Harry quipped wryly.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he sat down and studied for his NEWTs, the last time he'd seen his tutors for actual academic instruction and not for strategic planning, definitely not since the holidays. Now, with his study of Necromancy and Hindi Runes, in addition to the Hindi language, Harry couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. He wanted to get his NEWTs and prove that he was capable without just his titles and Inheritance, but life kept getting in the way. Studying with Marvolo helped, but it wasn't enough.
"There is no age limitation for achieving NEWTs, Harry. There is no need to rush. Once Dumbledore is dealt with, you will have more time," Marvolo replied, looking at Harry through the mirror. Barely inches away from him. Harry fleetingly entertained the thought of rocking back on his heels just slightly to rest against Marvolo's chest and imagined Marvolo wrapping his arms around him. He envisioned the sight they would make in the mirror. Harry tossed the thought away almost immediately; now was not the time to get lost in impossible fantasies.
Harry didn't think it would be as easy as Marvolo seemed to think. After Dumbledore, he would have the running of the school to focus on, managing staff and students, managing his three Lordships, and assisting Marvolo in running the Wizarding World, which both required more political meetings and parties and fancy luncheons. Also, there were his Necromancy duties that he needed to maintain. Maybe he should look into finding an assistant or someone to help with the school's administration and paperwork. The school wasn't even built yet, and already the paperwork was a daunting task that Harry had taken to avoiding and shoving to the edge of his desk. Harry grimaced internally; he felt presumptuous, thinking he needed an assistant at sixteen. How many would claim he was just entitled and lazy?
Still, he didn't contradict Marvolo and instead chose to take comfort in the attempt to relax him. "What do you think this meeting will be about?" Harry asked, turning to face Marvolo properly instead of through the mirror.
"Given the lack of anything remotely interesting in the papers, most likely, it will focus on you," Marvolo replied. "Perhaps not you directly, but the projects you are involved with. It was based on your words that they postponed the State of Emergency, so perhaps new information has arisen to press the need again. I find it surprising that Dumbledore would be able to stir up so much trouble in only three days since the meeting, but I've learned it best not to underestimate
the manipulative old coot. Even if you are not the intended focus, be prepared for questions to be pushed your way regarding updates."
Harry nodded. He really couldn't think of why a meeting would be needed in the first place. There hadn't been any raids; nothing had been in the papers. What was happening that required an emergency session? "And you can't think of anything your followers might have done to stir up trouble?"
Marvolo glared at him. "I do believe that the punishment they suffered earlier this month is deterrent enough for any free thinkers."
"Well, I guess I should head out then. Maybe showing up early will allow me to properly feel out the room and figure out what's happening beforehand."
"A wise strategy," Marvolo agreed as he and Harry walked out of his room and to Marvolo's office. "I will be collecting one of my…personal effects today, so I may not be present immediately when you return."
Harry only nodded. He wondered which Horcrux Marvolo would be searching for but didn't bother to ask. It was still a touchy subject between them, and so long as Marvolo gathered them all in time for the ritual, that was all that mattered.
"Just remember, their influence and power are temporary," Marvolo said soothingly as they stood before the fireplace. "In a few months, all of their pathetic power plays and thoughts will be irrelevant."
Harry sighed. "Just because you take over doesn't mean their thoughts don't matter. You can't just kill them all; they will still be there." Harry grabbed a fistful of Floo Powder before glancing at Marvolo over his shoulder. "You cannot kill them all," Harry repeated firmly.
"Not all," Marvolo conceded before offering an innocent smile. "However, some would be acceptable?"
Harry chuckled. "I suppose some is to be expected given who you are." Marvolo didn't bother looking ashamed. "But seriously, I just know Dumbledore will mention you being at the meeting. You definitely owe me if your being there causes me an even bigger headache today."
"Will you be determining the payment terms, or shall I?"
"Me. I'm the one you're inconveniencing."
Marvolo smirked, and Harry stepped into the fire with a roll of his eyes and a traitorous stomach flip.
The Ministry was less crowded than on normal Wizengamot session days, but it made sense, considering this session was unplanned. Still, Harry saw a few other members wearing their robes as they chatted in small groups, walking to the elevators. Harry didn't see anyone he was closely familiar with, so set off on his own.
He was getting a few lingering looks from some groups, though, which set him on edge. Not everyone, though. Most gave him cursory polite nods, but some would glance and whisper as they walked, eyeing him the entire time.
"Lord Potter," the voice stopped Harry, and he turned to see Amos Diggory striding towards him. The man looked the same as he had the other day, but something in the set of his shoulders indicated something was different. "Might I speak with you in private before today's events?"
"Yes, of course, Lord Diggory," Harry said because what else could he say? And followed Amos to a small alcove, similar to the one Augusta had led him to when she demanded Bellatrix's death.
Amos flicked his wand to cast the necessary privacy spells, and Harry watched him do so silently. Was this regarding his offer about Cedric? Once the spells were cast, Amos stared at him momentarily, and Harry met his gaze as calmly as he could. "Lord Potter, I must ask you a question, and I insist on your honesty. Swear it to me that you will answer honestly."
Harry blinked at the severity in the man's voice. "I swear to answer honestly, providing that I can provide an answer at all," Harry replied. He wouldn't get stuck in a bind just in case Amos asked something Harry couldn't answer.
Amos didn't seem surprised at the alteration and gave a short nod of approval. "Was the man who attended the meeting at your side three days ago You Know Who? Was he the man who killed my son?"
Harry kept his eyes locked with Amos Diggory's to convey his sincerity. "No. Lord Marvolo Tomás was not the man who killed your son, nor is he, Lord Voldemort."
Amos stared at Harry for almost a full minute. Harry tried not to hold his breath or clench his sweating palms into fists –instead focusing his nerves on making sure his hands hung as limply open as he could manage. But he spoke the truth if only on a technicality. Peter Pettigrew had been the man to kill Cedric on Voldemort's orders and with his wand, but the actual curse had been spoken and cast by Pettigrew. And Harry wholeheartedly believed Marvolo was not the same man Lord Voldemort had once been. Oh, Marvolo was still bloodthirsty and ruthless and ambitious, but he wasn't insane, and he wasn't the monster he had been. Harry firmly believed that the Marvolo he knew now would never have ordered Cedric's death, his capture and obliviation, yes, but not his death. So no, the Lord Voldemort who ordered Cedric's death, who concocted the whole event at the graveyard, was not the Marvolo Harry knew now, nor the Marvolo who attended the meeting.
Finally, Amos gave a nod. "Very well. I believe you speak honestly. You've never struck me as a liar in the past, and I don't believe you would disrespect me in such a manner now. Allow me to provide you with some honesty in return, Lord Potter," Amos said. He glanced around the Ministry Atrium, and Harry did the same. No one had even glanced in their direction, but more Wizengamot members were arriving and moving toward the elevators. "It was not me in attendance at the meeting the other day." Harry whipped his head around to stare at Amos in shock and horror. "I apologize for the trickery and lies conducted under my name. However, Albus convinced me it was for the best if another polyjuiced as myself attended the meeting."
Harry felt cold at the news. Who had he let into his manor? Had they left anything behind? Was his manor's privacy now endangered? He would be investigating the matter as soon as possible and looking into further security measures to prevent polyjuiced people from entering his home. Polyjuiced and animagused people, now that he thought about it, he couldn't believe he'd been so lax regarding security. He didn't live in Peverell Manor, so he never thought of its security, but that would be changing. How had he not thought to check before?
"Who was it?"
"I do not know," Amos replied, looking disappointed and ashamed. "I cannot provide you with adequate excuses on why I allowed it to happen; admittedly, I don't remember what came over me when I agreed. However, it occurred, and I wish to right this wrong properly. This emergency meeting is fully about you." Harry felt his nerves spike. "For the past three days, Albus has been whispering into the ears of many members regarding the leeway and influence you have been granted. He has crafted this meeting to be something of a progress report, not only regarding the meeting the other day but also regarding the Dementors. Be prepared to be under scrutiny today, Lord Potter."
Harry swallowed. "Thank you, Lord Diggory, for the forewarning."
"There was an injustice done in my name, and it is only fair and just that I correct it."
Merlin, Harry loved Hufflepuffs sometimes. Why couldn't more people be like them? Why couldn't he? "I believe you have done so. Thank you, truly, Lord Diggory." Harry turned to leave the alcove, hoping to use the spare minutes to prepare answers to the questions he could guess would be asked. He had expected a few tossed his way but not a whole inquisition, but Amos made a small noise in his throat, and Harry stopped to look at him again.
"As I said, I did not attend the meeting; however, I reviewed the pensive memory."
"Dumbledore showed you the memory?"
Amos pursed his lips in distaste. "No. He did not." Harry blinked at that. He would have thought Dumbledore would have shown the man the memory so he'd be prepared for today or potential questioning. "Albus provided me with a summary of information but did not share the memory. He claimed it would be too hard to witness, given the alleged murder of my son was present. No, the memory of the meeting was sent to me anonymously in an unmarked envelope with the simple message that I deserved to see it."
Who the hell would have sent Amos the memory? The only one Harry could think of was whoever had assumed his identity. But perhaps someone else in the Order felt sympathetic towards Amos and went around Dumbledore's back to send it. Maybe he would never know.
"I know I have no right to ask this of you, given my lack of honor regarding your hospitality. But…" Amos sucked in a breath, clasping his hands tightly before him before meeting Harry's eyes again, "does your offer still stand? Will you allow me to see my son once again?"
Harry smiled softly, seeing the desperation shining in the man's eyes. "Yes. Regardless of our differences of opinion or how we align ourselves, my offer will remain. Cedric was a good and kind man. I like to think we were starting to become friends towards the end. His loss was a tragedy. The offer would remain in his name if nothing else."
Amos released a shaky breath, and Harry allowed him a moment to gather himself, politely looking out over the Atrium. He saw Amelia and Tiberius whispering together as they walked quickly towards the elevators. They looked stern and concerned; they'd probably also recently learned of the meeting events.
"Thank you, Lord Potter. Yes, I would be most indebted to you; yes, please, may I see – may I see Cedric again."
"No debt required, Lord Diggory. And yes, we can schedule an available time to meet, and I'll let you know the preparations you must adhere to before the ritual."
Amos nodded and, this time, reached out to stop Harry from leaving, a small touch to the arm, but Harry froze at the action. "As I said, I reviewed the memory and witnessed the meeting, and allow me to say that I agree with what transpired. The opening of your school to include all magical races is just the thing that Cedric would have supported. He only had positive words to share regarding the Beauxbatons Veela competitor and high praise for the werewolf Lupin when he taught. My Department and I will support this endeavor for magical integration. You handled yourself admirably during that meeting, and I urge you to maintain that same composure during today's assembly. You are a good man, Harry Potter."
Amos Diggory walked away, his privacy spells falling as he left. Harry stood in the alcove in stunned silence. Feeling off-footed, Harry walked slowly towards the elevators and rode them down to the courtrooms. He was alone in the elevator, for which he was thankful. Closing his eyes, Harry took several deep breaths, counting to ten each time before releasing the built-up air. The elevator dinged, and Harry walked out. He nodded to the Wizengamot members chatting together immediately inside the courtroom but didn't stop to talk. His thoughts and nerves were jumping together. Tiberius, Amelia, Augusta, and Slyvia rushed him when they spotted him, and Harry bit back a sigh at their anxious looks.
"Harry, it's a meeting to question you," Tiberius said without preamble. "Dumbledore's been at work; he means to discredit you."
"I've heard talks of calling for a vote of no confidence in you," Sylvia added, her blue eyes dark with worry. "I've never heard it happening for a House member, but there is always a first."
Harry gave a short nod. He had a history of becoming the first in many things, so if it ever happened, he had money on it being him. "I heard just before walking in."
"What happened with the Dementors, Harry?" Amelia asked. "I heard Amos a moment ago stating that he supported the Creature talks, so the meeting must not be what set Dumbledore off."
Amos was already spreading positive words about the meeting, Harry thought in surprise. The man had only had a few minutes' headstart on him. Harry felt warm at the thought of the man's support. It did help to have a Hufflepuff on your side; he glanced at Amelia and Sylvia and thought the statement had never been more accurate.
"The Dementors will no longer act as guards for Azkaban," Harry told them quietly.
They all flinched back in shock. "Harry, are you serious?" Augusta hissed out viciously. "How could you have done that? What possessed you to make that decision? It was not yours to make."
"Actually, it was," Harry said with a frown at Neville's grandmother. "Dementors are under my control. They were never meant to act as prison guards in the first place, and acting as such drove them further away from their created purpose. As a Child of Death, it was my job to set them back in order."
"This is not going to go over well," Tiberius said solemnly, glancing at the other Wizengamot members. Nott and Avery were walking toward them as well.
"I knew it wouldn't," Harry admitted. "I had planned to go over possible solutions to combat the lack of security at the prison with you over lunch today. I wanted to have a plan to present before everyone found out."
"We've just heard," Avery said when they arrived. "There were only five that Dumbledore reached out to in our Faction, but the five he did contact owe him a debt."
"Lucius has been speaking with the Minister since we arrived," Nott added, nodding subtly over at the blond Lord speaking quietly and urgently with the Minister, who looked uncertain and hesitant as he walked towards his Ministerial seat. But Lucius wasn't the only one whispering in the Minister's ear. The pink toad was doing the same and shooting dirty, scathing looks at Lucius at every contradicted or interrupted statement she made. Harry really needed to kill her, and soon.
"He didn't speak to any of our Faction," Amelia said quietly. Her monocle glinted in the light of the courtroom, and Harry couldn't tell if she sounded smug or disappointed.
"Dumbledore must have been feeling desperate though to call on the debts our members owed," Nott added. "Those five in particular don't hold much power and rarely contribute anything worthwhile during Faction meetings. No one pays them much mind; they don't hold much weight."
"He needed at least two Factions in agreement to call an Emergency Meeting," Avery said quietly. "Not a majority, just a handful from each to demonstrate a united concern."
"Who were they?" Harry asked. It would help to learn who was forced against him and who willingly went against him.
Before Nott or Avery could answer, Dumbledore called for members to find their seats. Bitter and annoyed, Harry followed the others to their seats. His stomach was in knots, and it only worsened as he sat. He watched Dumbledore sitting up on the leveled seating. His twinkling eyes were full force as he looked down at them all. Fudge looked constipated as he sat beside Dumbledore, and the scribe was focused on her parchment.
Harry took deep breaths that he tried to make seem natural. He repeated Marvolo's words from earlier on a loop in his head. This was all temporary; in a few months, Dumbledore would die, and none of this would matter.
"Welcome, Lords and Ladies of our esteemed Wizengamot; many of you are probably wondering about needing an Emergency Meeting. Several of you approached me over the past few days, voicing concerns regarding one of our members. As Chief Wizard of this distinguished body, I must follow through on these concerns." Dumbledore paused, allowing his words to sink in. "In light of this task, I must call Lord Potter-Black-Peverell to the Platform to answer some questions."
Heart racing, Harry stood as calmly and regally as he could and walked the familiar path towards the Speaker Platform. Keeping his head high and his shoulders back, Harry stood on the Platform and kept his face as innocently curious and openly friendly as he could without it –hopefully– coming off as fake or forced. There was silence for a moment as everyone in the courtroom stared at Harry, and Harry attempted not to look panicked, repeating Marvolo's words about everything today being temporary. In a few months, none of this would matter. It wasn't very comforting, though, because while it would be irrelevant in the future, Harry was living in the present. And presently, this whole situation sucked.
He swept his gaze over the Wizengamot members, all seated on their House seats, and then up to Dumbledore, the Minister, and the scribe. Given the late notice, there wasn't much of an audience today, but he saw a few guests and the Political Reporters avidly watching and scratching out notes with their quills.
The silence continued. Was he supposed to say something? He had been summoned down, so he didn't think he should need to. But maybe if he did, it could give him some control over the conversation. Or would it just make him seem nervous and jumpy? His heart thudded loudly in his chest. The blood pounded in his ears, deafening in the silence. Flipping a mental coin, Harry took a chance. "While it upsets me to hear that there are those here who feel concerned for me, I hope we can alleviate that uncertainty today." Harry looked over the crowd and tried to identify the possible nay-sayers. "Forgive my ignorance, but may I inquire about the specificity of the concerns?"
"It's nothing serious," Fudge said, interrupting Dumbledore, who looked irritated for only a few seconds before settling back again. It seemed that between the two of them, Fudge was still deciding to be lenient towards Harry. Harry made a grudging mental note to thank Lucius later. "Merely a progress update, Lord Potter. Nothing nefarious, just a few questions to ease the minds of our court."
"That's good to hear, Minister. What is the intended outcome of this, then?"
Dumbledore hesitated. "The outcome?" he repeated. Harry's stomach swooped in vicious glee at off-footing the man, even if momentarily.
"Well, a simple progress report could have been handled in a far smaller setting without disrupting everyone's time. Unless there is a more serious issue, I should be aware of?"
"Should there be a more serious issue discussed?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. "It is the hope of the concerned that the simple honesty of your answers will provide the necessary outcome."
What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Harry smiled and worked to keep his jaw from clenching too tightly. "Well, I've only ever tried to be honest," he replied with forced jovialty. It's all temporary, he repeated to himself. They can't arrest him because he operated under Death's orders; if they kicked him out of the Wizengamot, he'd just be reinstated when Marvolo took over. Everything was fine; it was all temporary, everything was fine. "So," he said, refocusing on the Wizengamot members, "ask me your questions and allow me to alleviate your concerns, and hopefully, we won't disrupt everyone's days completely."
"I shall be asking the questions, Lord Potter-Black-Peverell," Dumbledore said genially. Harry shifted so that he could keep both Dumbledore and the court better in his frame of sight.
"Well, that doesn't seem quite fair, Chief Wizard," Harry replied, barely glancing at Dumbledore before facing the Wizengamot again. "If the good Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot have concerns or questions for me, they should be the ones to ask. Enough voiced uncertainty to call this meeting together, so they should speak freely. This is, after all, a simple session of clearing the air, is it not?"
"Yes, yes," Fudge insisted, finally breaking his silence. "Merely a progress update, Lord Potter."
"Well, then, I think the court should be the ones to ask." Harry sent a charming smile at the Minister – because it really was beneficial to have that man on his side, it seemed – and then turned his smile to the court and spread his arms wide as if to say, 'Well, start asking.'
The court was silent, but Harry worked not to let it bother him. Instead, he casually dropped his arms and clasped them behind his back, staring innocently out at the court, waiting for one of them to break the ice. He could guess at the questions they would ask, but that didn't help his nerves. His heart pounded in his chest, and his throat felt dry. Striving not to focus on that, though, he took slow, measured breaths and waited in the silence.
The silence stretched. Fucking cowards, he thought bitterly. No one was willing to speak out when given the opportunity, but they were perfectly fine with complaining and ranting at each other behind closed doors and hiding behind Dumbledore to air their grievances. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore gearing up to retake control of the session, and he couldn't allow that.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but shut it when another person stood up; it was Lord Brown. The man looked distinctly displeased, with his lips pursed and nose scrunched. "You made a mockery of the Ministry during your meeting with the Creatures," the man stated, and Harry blinked in surprise.
"I did? Forgive me, Lord Brown, I hadn't realized you were present. Please explain how I made a mockery?"
Lord Brown flushed red. "You spent precious Ministry hours and funds to propagate your own agenda."
"Again, Lord Brown, how would you know what was discussed?"
"I was informed," Lord Brown said with a sniff. "And your lack of denial is further proof of my claim. It–"
"No," Harry replied shortly, cutting off Lord Brown entirely, "lack of denial isn't proof of anything. I am merely pointing out and reiterating the fact that you were not present, so you have no right or reason to make assumptions and proclamations based on hearsay."
Another man stood up from the Light Faction. This man was on the Noble House tier with white hair and liver spots. Harry had no idea who he was. "Enough, Lord Potter. This talking around the issue and perpetuating technicalities solves nothing and wastes time," the man spoke with a deep, raspy voice. "Lord Brown is referring to the fact that you used your role as a Ministry spokesman to not only push your school agenda but also included a non-Ministry member in a private Ministry-sponsored discussion to which this individual had no clearance." The old man promptly sat back down again, which must have triggered Lord Brown because he, too, reclaimed his seat.
"I'd like to first speak on the accusation of wasting Ministry funds," Harry said since that was the easiest. "I never spent any Ministry money, so this accusation is false on every level. I hosted the meeting and supplied the food. Second, I never propagated my own agenda. The fact that the other representatives had heard of my school proposition was unknown to me, and their request to include it as a contingent factor of their agreement was not of my doing." Harry swept his gaze over the Wizengamot and saw some confused faces. "I see that not everyone is as informed, so I shall enlighten them. The other representatives brought up the school during the meeting, not me. They wanted to see the Wizarding Community back up our claims of peace and cooperation. To quote the muggle saying, they saw the school as a way of doing so – putting our money where our mouths are. You can hardly blame the representatives for their distrust and suspicion of our claims; our past history isn't faultless. As the proprietor of said school, I saw no issue agreeing with their demands and am embarrassed I never thought of the integration sooner. So no, I did not perpetuate my own agenda, but I won't deny their request benefits me."
"What of the non-Ministry official in attendance? Your guest had no clearance and no right to attend," a woman in the Light Faction said, remaining seated. Her face was young but had the start of lines around her eyes and mouth, and her fair hair had been pulled tightly back. "A Ministry-sponsored function is not a chance for you to woo potential suitors."
Harry felt his face redden at the implication that he and Marvolo were… that Marvolo was… He swallowed and cleared his throat, desperate to get his mind working again after it had reached a screeching halt at the thought of Marvolo and him together. "That's not….Lord Tomás and I aren't…" Harry took a breath and strove to settle his racing pulse. He pinched the bridge of his nose before running a quick hand through his hair. Stuttering in front of the Wizengamot was not helping his case and would not help his image. It didn't help that he knew the Death Eaters, in attendance, would relate the entire meeting to Marvolo. Oh damn, he couldn't look in the direction of the Dark Faction right now. Harry couldn't bear to think of Marvolo's potential reactions to being called Harry's suitor. Clearing his throat again and clasping his hands behind his back, Harry tilted his chin and straightened his shoulders. He couldn't do much for the heat he still felt in his face, but ignoring it was really his only option. "Lord Tomás had every right to attend the meeting. It was through him that the meeting was set up so swiftly. Lord Tomás has been a close confidant for me during this year's changes and coincidentally has been in conversation with each of the representatives for many months, long before I entered the political scene. As he was the uniting presence, it only made sense for him to attend." Harry paused and glanced over the crowd. The tension was still off; too many still looked upset and disgruntled, and despite Harry's words to the contrary, he knew that enough had already written it off as a coverup attempt. Rumors would only spread, discrediting his future endeavors. He needed to further convince them of the ludicrousness of the thought. He needed another dismissive statement. "And let me add that I'm a bit insulted that you think my best attempt at romance is a political meeting. I'm young, but I think I deserve a little more credit than that."
That brought a few unwilling chuckles. The tension eased enough for the pressure on his chest to ease enough for him to breathe. Harry took a steadying breath and waited for the next wave to hit.
"He would be willing to be questioned then," Dumbledore said suddenly. Harry glanced at him. "This confidant of yours, if he is innocent as you say."
Harry frowned at the man. "I fail to see why the Wizengamot would need to question someone regarding personal, private correspondence. And I wasn't aware that his innocence was in question."
"Enough of this, Dumbledore," Fudge said. "Let us not derail things further. There is no cause to bring a harmless citizen in for questioning."
Harry would never put harmless in the same context as Marvolo, but he wouldn't argue that point now.
"I just find it strange that this confidant is so unknown," Dumbledore said calmly. "I've never known a Marvolo Tomás to attend Hogwarts. We only have Lord Potter-Black-Peverell's word that he is an innocent civilian. It's well known that Lord Potter-Black-Peverell holds a great deal of sway and influence, and for such an unknown individual, a close confidant of Lord Potter-Black-Peverell, to hold such power to attend private ministry-sanctioned events…well, I'm sure many would feel safer if his motives were known. Especially considering how this supposed Lord is actually –"
"Attending Hogwarts does not determine an individual's trustworthiness," Harry commented, working to control his temper. Marvolo owed him so majorly, Harry thought as the headache beat against his temples. "Lord Tomás is a… private individual with his own reasons for avoiding the public eye. Today's meeting has occurred as an opportunity for the Wizengamot to question my recent actions, so allow my word to be enough to vouch for him."
"Allow mine, as well." Lord Diggory stood from his seat on the second tier with the Most Ancient and Noble. Eyes darted to the man immediately. Harry swallowed his triumphant smirk by clenching his teeth and pursing his lips. Marvolo would be insufferable, Harry thought with an inward sigh; his gamble at attending and having Diggory vouch for him against Dumbledore had paid off. Harry glanced at Dumbledore while the rest of the Court focused on Diggory. Dumbledore's face was drawn tight underneath his beard, and his eyes burned behind those half-moon glasses; Harry's gut gave a swoop of victory.
"Lord Diggory," Dumbledore began, "perhaps –"
"As I also attended this meeting," Lord Diggory continued, "I believe my word should be equally accounted for. Lord Tomás presented himself as a well-educated, respectable young man who only held ideals of a unified magical world. Something that both myself and my Department support." This brought quiet murmurings from the Court, but Harry could see the suspicions fading and doubts easing. "Now, may we proceed with the questioning? As Lord Potter has stated, this meeting has already disrupted everyone's day; no need to prolong it." Diggory sat again, and Harry gave the man a friendly smile and nodded. He meant the unspoken thanks, but he knew it would further demonstrate the goodwill and alliance the two had for the rest of the Court.
The Court was quiet for barely a moment before Lord Brown stood again. Harry momentarily entertained a fantasy of asking Marvolo to dispose of the annoying man before brushing it aside; now wasn't the time.
"Perhaps the Court can overlook your flaunting of protocol and apparent innocent manipulations of circumstance," Lord Brown said. Harry wanted to sneer at him, unleash his magic, and bring the arrogant Lord to his knees. He bit his cheek hard instead. "However, bringing creatures to heel wasn't the only task the Court set you. What of–"
Harry frowned and interrupted Lord Brown once again. "I did not bring the dignified and respected members of our magical brethren to heel, and to insinuate such a thing is disgraceful." Lord Brown flushed and glanced nervously at the other members, some of whom avoided the man's eye in the face of a public call out.
"What of the Dementors?" another voice called out, but the person didn't stand. It was from the Dark Faction. Maybe one of the ones coerced by Dumbledore to file a complaint.
"What of them?" Harry asked innocently.
"What was the verdict?" Fudge asked, shifting forward in his seat, blatantly curious and nervous about what Harry had to say.
Harry felt a small moment of pity for the Minister. It was apparent the man was terrified of Dementors and the impact they could unleash on the populace. Then Harry remembered the Dementor's pleas for happiness and their attempts to achieve the simple goal, and his pity faded.
"I can confirm that I have spoken with the Dementors," Harry announced, his voice loud in the silence. His nerves spiked at the realization of what was still to come. "They will not join the war supporting Voldemort or the Ministry."
There was a wave of relief that swept the crowd. "Who do they support then?" A woman in the Light Faction asked as she sat next to the fair-haired woman who had spoken previously.
"Me," Harry replied simply. "As I said, I am their Lord; they obey me."
"Lord Potter-Black-Peverell," Dumbledore began, and Harry bitterly turned his focus on the bearded man. "The Wizengamot and the Ministry entrusted you with the task of gaining the Dementors' loyalties. I'm sure I'm not the only one to express my disappointment at your failing to do so."
"No," Harry denied immediately. "I did not fail. I was asked to use my position as Lord of the Dementors to speak with them concerning the war. I have done so. The Dementors are under my command and control and will not act unless I specifically order them to do so." Harry spoke sternly and with as much authority as he could manage. "During the last session, this esteemed body was concerned about Voldemort persuading the Dementors to his side as he had done in previous years. And as I stated in the last session, they are loyal to me. I met with them and confirmed this."
"Lord Potter, that is a gross misuse of a technicality," the Lord with white hair and liver spots said with an aggrieved sigh, not bothering to stand this time.
"I don't see how it is," Harry replied with exceeding politeness. "I did exactly as I said I would."
Maybe he could get through his meeting without announcing the security change-ups. Harry thought longingly of a Headache Reliever Potion and his bed.
"You knew what we wished and purposefully neglected your duty."
Harry tilted his head at the annoying old Lord. "Again, I fail to see your reasoning. I said I was their Lord and that I would speak with them, and I did. The Wizengamot wished that they not join with Voldemort, and they won't because they follow me. I have done everything that was said. I have neglected no duty."
"So everything is as it was? The Dementors will continue guarding Azkaban and stay out of our affairs?" A Lady from the Light persisted.
Harry pursed his lips. He wondered how to play this off without causing panic, but just as he thought that, he realized he'd already ruined his chances. He'd hesitated too long for anything he said to be believed. "Not exactly," he admitted, buying himself more time as he tried to think of the best way to word things.
Unfortunately, Dumbledore pounced before he got the chance to speak again. "Do you mean to say that you altered the foundational proceedings of our community with neither oversight nor permission?"
"Again, I am the Lord of Dementors, a title gained through my Inheritance," Harry said before murmurings could spread amongst the Court and audience. "As a Child of Death, I answer and obey Death's orders first and foremost. Dementors are my subjects, and it is my responsibility to make sure they adhere to Death's orders. Death was my overseer and my permission."
"What have you done? Don't hide behind Death to excuse your blatant disregard for our rules, customs, and laws," a Lord in the Dark Faction shouted.
The murmurings grew louder, and Harry swallowed against the rising panic. He needed to say something, anything, to regain control of the situation. He could see his influence slipping the longer he stayed silent. But his mouth wouldn't open; he couldn't think of what to say. He gripped his robes with sweaty palms, standing alone on the Platform. He saw his allies glancing nervously around as the rising wave of dissent grew louder. A few bangs from Dumbledore's wand brought quiet, but it had taken far too long, in Harry's opinion. Worst, he couldn't even blame Marvolo for this added headache causer; it was his own fault.
"I have disregarded nothing," Harry said quickly, throat dry and tongue heavy, before Dumbledore could say anything more. "The Wizengamot requested that I speak with the Dementors and guarantee their neutrality. Death requested I speak with the Dementors and reaffirm their loyalty and servitude. I accomplished both. The Dementors will not side with anyone unless I order it and their oaths have been resworn to Death."
"You speak in circles. What oaths do Dementors hold with Death?" the old Lord asked before the murmurs restarted.
Harry swallowed but kept his chin up. He hoped his face didn't reflect his nerves but couldn't guarantee it. He knew his shoulders were tense, but they refused to relax. "Their oaths are simply to honor their original purpose. They were created to numb those nearing Death, to suck the pain away, to make the passage easier. They manipulated their original purpose and needed to be reminded of their purpose. Their previous employment under the Ministry broke those oaths, so that employment has been terminated."
There was a heartbeat of silence before the crowd erupted. Some Lords and Ladies stood as they shouted, words blending as the volume grew louder.
"You had no right–" "How dare you–" "You've disrupted–" "Upstart–" "Dark Lord–"
The deafening uproar broke momentarily while the court seemed to take a collective breath. "I had every right," Harry shouted. The crowd stared at him in shock, whether for shouting or his disagreement or what; Harry didn't know, but they were thankfully quiet for the moment. Rubbing his forehead, uncaring about showing his annoyance and what it might do to the perception of him at this point. He took a breath. "I have told the Court numerous times that I answer to Death as a Necromancer. I have told the Court that I am Lord of Dementors. I don't know how else to reiterate the fact that decisions regarding Dementors and their behavior and actions are my domain, Death's domain. But if we want to continue this farce of a Wizengamot session, allow me to remind the Chief Wizard that thestrals also fall under my control. So you should expect a meeting with me soon regarding Hogwarts employment for a large herd of Thestrals."
"Those thestrals are an integral part of the Hogwarts experience. The thestrals are taken care of. There is no need for your involvement."
"They are my subjects; I hold the right to visit them and ensure their care meets the necessary standards."
"Oi, thestrals and your feud with the Headmaster is something to be discussed later," a Dark Faction Lord said, standing up. His face was splotchy, and his gut battled the stitching of his robes. "Potter, what the blazes are you going to do about the security defenses you destroyed?"
Harry frowned at the Lord. While he was rude and uncouth, Harry appreciated the bluntness. "There are a few ideas that I have in rectifying this," Harry said after the Lord flushed under his gaze. "I had plans to discuss them with those directly involved before informing the public to mitigate the public concern." Harry paused to let his disapproval sink in as he glanced over the Wizengamot. He dug his nails into his hand as his fists clenched tighter in an attempt to refrain from pulling at his hair again, and he pushed onward. "Yes, I understand the uncertainty that many fear regarding the removal of Dementors from Azkaban. However, there is a greater benefit that I don't think many have realized yet. The Dementors will no longer feast on individuals. By reinforcing their oaths, I have stopped them from interacting with humans at all unless I, or future Necromancers, specifically say otherwise. The Wizarding World no longer needs to fear Dementors." The Wizengamot fell silent, but instead of fear and panic this time, it was more stunned. "So yes, the security measures are a concern, but it is small compared to the new freedom the world can now enjoy. Plus, Azkaban is still an island in the middle of a tumultuous sea; I fully believe we can find a way to keep convicts properly contained. But again, I planned to discuss these possible plans before releasing the information to the public, so I cannot give guaranteed action plans now."
There were a few murmurs between the Lords and Ladies, but no one was screaming at him anymore. Harry took another deep breath. People were still upset, but he managed to head off the main protesters now. He'd definitely need to do a lot of press control after this. He'd try and get Rita to meet with him tomorrow to get the public on his side before rumors and gossip could spread.
Harry stepped out of the Floo and immediately lay on his sofa in Marvolo's office. His head was pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to take a week-long nap. Harry sighed before opening his eyes with a frown. The office was empty.
"Tobi," he called after he went to the office door and opened it. House elves, like anyone who couldn't break the parseltongue password, were warded against entering the office and his bedroom. The elf appeared in the hallway, looking eager to please. "Where is Marvolo?"
"Great Master is still being out, Master Death Master."
How long did it take to reclaim a Horcrux? Harry wondered. Was he safe? Had he been injured? Did something go wrong?
"Right, thanks, Tobi. Where are Nagini and Raja?"
"The big snakey's be sleeping in the Library by the fire, Master Death Master. They were being in the dungeons earlier, hunting."
Right because of the snow, Marvolo had unleashed a bunch of rats and frogs in the dungeon for the snakes to hunt to their hearts' content. Harry wasn't convinced the prey scampering about down there weren't just transfigured muggles or other people who had annoyed Marvolo to some degree that he felt the need to feed them to their familiars. Harry didn't question deeply, and Raja always enjoyed the hunts. The small golden snake had grown a foot in the month since Christmas and needed the exercise, and Nagini enjoyed teaching the young snake how to hunt.
"Can you grab my journal, a quill, and a blanket?" Tobi bobbed his head eagerly and disappeared. Harry shucked off his Wizengamot robes and his mourning band and tossed them over the back of the sofa. Underneath, he wore the tailored pants and the silk button-down that Mimsy had selected for him that morning, surprisingly comfortable despite the poshness of the attire.
Harry would camp out in the office until Marvolo returned. He knew Marvolo would return to his office first if he didn't directly Floo in. Tobi returned moments later, and Harry accepted the soft blanket, his journal that Marvolo had gotten him for Christmas, and the ink and quill. After a quick thanks, Harry shut the door and situated himself on the couch.
He had neglected his Necromancy journal in the chaos of his life, but he knew he had to keep up-to-date with it. It annoyed him immensely when reading his ancestors' journals when there were blatant time skips and gaps. He didn't want to annoy his descendants in the same way. But journaling his life was hard. He'd never been much for writing anyway. Plus, there was just so much in his life that influenced his current decisions and actions, and he got lost in going back and explaining and summarizing what other ridiculous event or near-death experience had caused what line of thought. On top of that, he had to let his magic run freely in order to write in the Necromancers' script. He'd run tests with Marvolo before he actually began journaling, and it only worked when he sunk into his magic fully and released it freely.
Blanket on his lap, back propped up by the sofa's arm, ink bottle balanced on his knee, Harry opened his journal in his lap. Magic filled the room, icy fire tickling his skin; Harry sunk deep into the full-body detachment his magic provided and wrote.
Distant murmuring woke him. Harry groaned. When had he fallen asleep? Looking around without needing to move, he saw that he was still in Marvolo's office. His journal, ink, and quill had been neatly placed on Marvolo's desk, which Marvolo sat behind as his Inner Circle reported to him. However, Harry couldn't hear what was said, so Marvolo must have cast a silencing spell around him. Shifting to push himself into a sitting position, the blanket that had been tucked around him fell to the floor. Had Marvolo tucked him in? The thought brought a fluttering sensation sweeping through his chest.
"Did you sleep well?" Marvolo hissed.
Harry yawned, brushing one hand through his hair and the other over his eyes. He grunted in response. "It was needed. Did your hunt go well?"
"It was successful."
Harry nodded and glanced at the Death Eaters; none of them looked directly at him, but he knew they were watching. It was kind of strange and embarrassing to think that they had all seen him asleep. "They arrived not long ago. I had spells protecting you in your state of unconsciousness. Do not fear."
That was the thing; Harry wasn't afraid. Hadn't even thought to be afraid, though he supposed it was a reasonable conclusion. Being asleep in front of the very man and people who had been set on his death less than a year ago should have induced some degree of fear or caution or wariness, at least, but it didn't.
"When did you get back?"
"You did well," Marvolo said instead. Harry frowned. What? That wasn't an answer. How long had Marvolo been there while he slept? "With Dumbledore and the Wizengamot, you did well," Marvolo continued.
Harry eyed Marvolo, sitting behind his desk with his red piercing eyes, and decided to let it go. What did it matter anyway? "Thanks," Harry said quietly.
The meeting ended shortly after Harry pointed out the benefits of no more dementors, and Harry was still bitter. He'd wanted to call for a complete dismissal of the State of Emergency vote. And since it was an unplanned session, no one hung around afterward, all having previous appointments to attend, so Harry couldn't even do further damage control. He had spoken with his allies, though, pushing the meeting with Madam Bones to tomorrow as well. He'd then spoken with Rita, who had fortunately been one of the reporters in the audience. She'd been greedily thrilled at the offer, and Harry shivered at the memory of her sharklike smile. Harry closed his eyes again.
"How much longer?" he asked, looking at the Death Eaters.
"You are all dismissed. I will summon you individually to continue your reports."
Harry watched in astonishment as the Death Eaters bowed in unison before filing out of the office. Each pointedly, not looking at him.
"You didn't have to end the meeting," Harry said when the office door shut.
"It was over; continuing it is an immaterial waste of time."
"Right." The meeting hadn't been over. Harry knew that. He knew they'd been mid-report at best. But it got him alone with Marvolo, so he didn't push the subject. Sighing and closing his eyes, Harry leaned his head against the backrest. The nap had helped, but he still had a headache. "You owe me, by the way."
"Ah, yes, the debacle of my appearance at the meeting." Harry heard Marvolo stand and walk closer but didn't bother opening his eyes. Then he felt something knocking against his shoulder. Opening his eyes again, he saw Marvolo holding a potion vial. Grinning, Harry accepted it, downing it quickly and sighing as the Headache Reliever took effect. "However, I was also correct in saying that the gamble with Diggory would pay off."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, the risk worked, but I still got a headache because of you."
"I highly doubt I was the sole reason for your headache based on that session."
Harry didn't bother refuting that.
"So what shall be my recompense?"
Harry hated the heat in his gut at the question, the swoop in his stomach that accompanied the appearance of a small smirk on Marvolo's lips. These stupid feelings were getting ridiculous. He stood from the couch in the hope of distracting the sensations in his stomach. "I'll think of something. But we have something else to deal with, too," he said, staring out the window at the snow-covered gardens. The back patio was kept clear of snow and under warming charms, but this section of the yard remained untouched, and the snow glittered in the afternoon sun. Harry watched through the window's reflection as Marvolo returned to his seat and gestured with his hand for Harry to continue. "Amos wasn't the one who attended the meeting."
Marvolo straightened and leaned forward in his seat, his pale hands flat on his desk. "Explain," Marvolo said, so cold and furious that he almost slipped into Parsletongue. Harry turned to face him and started to pace his well-worn path on the office carpet.
"Amos spoke to me before the meeting. He admitted that he didn't attend. Someone else did under Polyjuice Potion. How could the Peverell Wards not detect that? How did we let the security loophole slip?"
Marvolo frowned in thought. "The last Peverell brother, the last Necromancer, passed in 1292. The invention of Polyjuice Potion is unknown; however, it was not seen utilized in any noteworthy mention until the 1500s. Likely, Peverell Manor never defended against Polyjuice Potion users because, at the time, it never existed." Harry considered that. It made sense. "We shall certainly be rectifying this. There are now wards that can be placed to hinder disguised individuals."
Harry nodded emphatically. "Yes. Polyjuice Potion, Animagus, pretty much anyone not specifically invited by me."
"It will be done. Tomorrow morning, we will go to Peverell Manor, set the wards, and conduct a thorough examination to ensure the intruder left nothing unwanted behind. It will take some time, or I'd suggest going now." Harry nodded again, watching Marvolo as the man consideredly drummed his long fingers. "We cannot speak of this to the other dignitaries. If they heard of the deception, it could undermine everything. Our tentatively established trust would shatter."
"Amos couldn't say who took his place but did say the person sent him a copy of the events. His loyalty to Dumbledore is fracturing, though. I'm interviewing with Rita soon to do some damage control."
"Do not fret, little lion. The tide is still in our favor and will remain so for the rest of time. I told you, everything right now is temporary. Once I take full control, never again will someone dare speak against us." Marvolo stood from his seat again, his fingertips pressed against the desk as he stared at Harry with rabid passion blazing in his eyes, his ghostly pale face alight with ambition.
Harry paused in his pacing to stare at the vision Marvolo presented. It was heart-wrenchingly unfair how magnetic Marvolo was because what he said was true, and Harry had no doubts. He could see the future stretching beyond them in the light of Marvolo's ardent gaze. He could see the good and the bad, the lives and the deaths that would follow in their wake in their quest to fix the Wizarding World. Harry could see it all. "I know."