In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 98: Exposure
Hoot!
Sounds of Hedwig woke Harry up, the owls that dropped the paper and the letters. Harry went to the desk, almost tossed the paper aside, except he noticed the title and the byline.
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The Daily Prophet
Thursday 13 March 1997
"We're Misunderstood"
by Rita Skeeter
For the past many months, Harry Potter has been the victim of a smear and smut campaign perpetrated by agents of You Know Who; all attempts to thwart this has been stymied by bribery, corruption, and ineptness on the part of the Ministry of Magic among other peoples. Yours truly secured an exclusive interview with Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, both friends and associates of Harry Potter.
"Harry Potter had enemies ever since he was born, namely You Know Who, something people conveniently forget—you are all playing into You Know Who's hands. Methods exist for impersonation, the well known one being Polyjuice Potion that every potions student should be aware of," Hermione Granger said.
"We have been continually framed or nobody cared enough to investigate. Take January's rape of Parvati Patil, the culprit was not Harry Potter, but the impostor. Many students claimed to have seen Harry Potter, that is the point of Polyjuice. That investigation was fumbled—I tried to stop the culprit, but the Ministry Aurors stopped my efforts," Ronald Weasley said, in a statement can lead one to wonder if the Ministry is encouraging rape. Supporting documentation was shown, in the form of money transfers, records, that no investigation was conducted. Harry Potter was summarily convicted and sentenced with no opportunity to defend himself; his manhood was taken from him for some Galleons into the Ministry coffers.
Numerous other incidents were discussed, ones in which they were either the prime suspects or presumed guilty, and may be the subject of future articles.
In the recent death of their fellow schoolmate, Harry Potter and friends were sentenced to a terrible punishment. A research of the Aurors at the Ministry revealed a disturbing pattern of failure to investigate and bribery; in this case, no credible investigation occurred for the death Natalie MacDonald.
"Our sympathies still go out to her family. They punished the innocent people, while the culprits could've been gleefully watching our punishment," Ronald Weasley said, "Perhaps the culprit was among those raping us."
Of extreme curiosity, pending the outcome of that display, is the current love life of Harry Potter.
"It was forced—do or die," Ronald Weasley said, defending his sexual orientation, "Nothing can or should be determined by that coercion, except we didn't want ourselves to die. It was rape, rape dictated by the Ministry, not us."
"Ministry potions made us puppets," Hermione said, "As to his castration, I know Harry [Potter] and Gia are trying to work to overcome their handicap, and I plan to do the same with Ron."
"We consider ourselves straight," Ronald Weasley said.
Some readers may wonder why yours truly accepted this interview. In the interest of fair and balanced reporting, these teenagers deserve a voice, even if you disagree with their statements.
"They—" Harry started.
Gia's hands around him.
"It's a good favor," Gia said, "Seems…rather factual for that paper. It plants a seed of doubt into people, maybe it'll work, maybe it won't."
Harry moved to the two letters, opened the less familiar one first.
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Harry Potter
As you've undoubtedly read my article in the Daily Prophet, this material is currently under review by the committee. During this review, all ASBOs have officially been suspended.
Rita Skeeter, HPGC
"Doesn't rescind anything," Harry said.
"It does, while it's being reviewed," Gia said, "That's a little bit of progress."
"Guess," Harry muttered, "Not much."
"I suggest you take what you can get," Gia said, "Every bit helps."
Gia rubbed his shoulders. Harry opened the second letter with familiar handwriting.
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Harry
I'm fighting back, tired of sulking around waiting like you're doing. Fighting back on their terms, in the paper they've sullied for months with their lies. Caught her sneaking around, so confiscated her naughty quill, and made her write honestly for that interview. Hope you're not too offended, should get us out from those damn orders.
Ron
"Proof Ron cares," Gia said over his shoulder.
"Didn't have to resort to her," Harry said.
"Shower," Gia said.
Harry moved, went into the lavatory, into the bathtub. She turned on the water, it poured down over him.
"Ron's right," Gia said, "About time to fight back, stand up for yourself. Ain't going to get easier otherwise."
Her hands to his skin, she worked into it with the soapy washcloth.
"Consider an interview," Gia said, "Know you're not keen on it, still, good idea. If it gets even one person to change their minds, it's worth it, don't you think?"
Harry summoned a second washcloth, soaped it up, and set it into her, a working of her flesh, the scent of the apples in the air.
"Maybe it'll even get your castration orders overturned," Gia said, "Let you explain how you evaded it, and we won't have to be so secretive about it anymore. No awkward questions when we start popping out babies."
"Not until it's over," Harry said, "Don't want somebody else to get raped, and they make sure I don't evade it a second time."
Gia kissed Harry beneath the hot water.
"Stop being so negative," Gia said, "Focus on the future you want after he's gone, alright?"
Gia kissed Harry, again. His hands to back her.
"Need to get to class," Gia said.
Harry turned off the water, summoned a pair of towels, and handed one to her. They dried as they returned to the bedroom. A brief cry from that other bedroom, the feet that entered, though Harry shut Gia's bedroom door.
"Go and see Ron," Gia suggested, "Catch up, or not."
Harry watched her put on the protective vest, dress.
"Starkers is way better," Harry said.
"I've got a dress code," Gia said, "Best to stick with it."
"Ready?" Harry asked.
She nodded as she grabbed her school bag and purse. Harry held her, focused his thoughts, and they disapparated. Grass beneath their feet, he caught her as she stumbled, behind the portable classrooms. He escorted her to one.
"Until later." Harry kissed her.
Her hands against him, and she kissed back.
"Later," Gia said.
Harry held the door open, she entered, and he disapparated.
That afternoon, Harry strapped his book bag onto his shoulder in Gia's bedroom. A moment of thought, a disillusion, Harry disapparated, apparated into the back room of Fred's and George's shop. Ron and Fred were glaring at each other, Ron's arms crossed.
"You're still hitting on Emily," Fred said to Ron.
"You're the one putting me up front with her," Ron said.
"That was George," Fred said, "Still, the sales are down when you're up there."
"Go figure," Ron said, "Not many people like shopping with killers as their clerks, even if they think they're drones, which I'm not."
"Take this one off your hands," Harry offered.
"Harry," Ron said.
"Class," Harry said.
"Oh…yeah," Ron said, "They wouldn't get me food either."
"You had one big breakfast, two lunches, a mid afternoon snack, dinner," Fred said, "Now you want supper."
"I'm hungry," Ron said.
"Come on," Harry said to Ron.
"Need to get my stuff," Ron said.
Harry held Ron, as Ron thought it over.
"You're apparating again, aren't you?" Fred asked.
Harry felt the jerk as Ron disapparated. A force of Harry's, one that overcame the splinching, and they apparated into this bedroom, mirrors to all sides.
"Harry," Hermione said.
"Class," Harry said.
Ron grabbed his book–bag.
"Your turn," Ron said to Harry.
Harry held Ron, they apparated near the community center.
"Can we get something first?" Ron asked.
"Gotta make it quick," Harry said.
A disillusion to themselves both, they walked.
"Think the nearest fish and chips is this way," Ron said.
They took the footpath that went over a shallow ravine.
"STOP!"
Harry and Ron turned to the voice behind them, Moody with his magical eye on them.
"Careful Potter and Weasley," Moody growled, "Do not make a move."
"Why?" Harry demanded, wanting to take control.
"A mine ahead of you and one behind," Moody said, "Seemed to reproduce.
Moody aimed his wand. A mine ahead, and the one behind showed.
"Got them, disarming," Moody growled.
Moody aimed, his expression froze as color drained.
"Get out!" Moody said, "Apparate over there!"
Harry grabbed Ron, apparated to the other end of the footpath with Moody. All three turned to watch the explosions over the footpath. Windows shattered, screams, nearby street lamps flickered and went dark.
"It's changed," Moody said, "I could not disarm as before, anti–tampering it seems."
"What are you doing here anyways?" Harry demanded.
"Guarding your life," Moody growled, "Thought that was important to you."
"Not at the expense of yours," Harry snapped.
Harry nudged Ron, they apparated into the community center.
"Supper has to wait," Harry said to Ron.
"Agreed," Ron said.
They went into the classroom, into the back.
"Got a Quick Quotes Quill if you want to take notes," Ron said, held it.
"This is—" Harry started as he recognized it.
"How'd you think we got a decent article?" Ron asked.
"Thanks a lot," Harry snapped.
"Know you hate the publicity," Ron said, "We need it, taking our side to them."
"They hate us," Harry said.
"They haven't heard our side," Ron said, "Anyways, Dad suckered Fred, taking me and Hermione for a weekend holiday."
The door opened, the man entered, Harry took out the notes and began to get to work.
Ron stood up at the end of the class. A flick of the wand, he disillusioned himself; Harry did the same.
"Apparate in—" Ron started.
"Gia's," Harry said, "Fly after that."
"Alright," Ron said.
Ron held Harry, they apparated into Gia's bedroom.
"Best to keep this here," Ron said, dropping his book–bag.
"Harry?" Gia asked.
"Taking Ron back," Harry said, "Back in a bit."
"Wake me to take the potion," Gia suggested.
Ron opened the window, the monogrammed prototype Firebolt II summoned out of his holster, he mounted, and flew out. Harry followed.
"Fastest way isn't this," Ron said.
"Suppose we could walk," Harry said, "Take the train, hone our defensive spells, or fly."
Ron and Harry flew along the treetops, in the warmish air, the moon above.
"Suppose we could fly faster," Ron said.
"Where's the rush?" Harry asked.
"True," Ron said.
Felt good to have the tree tops beneath his feet. They went over south London.
"See that?" Harry asked, pointed.
"Cloud?" Ron asked, peering at the lighter gray against blackness and stars.
"Big thing of light," Harry said, "Purple".
"Your eyes working?" Ron asked.
Harry's eyes focused down on the broom handle.
"Maybe…maybe it's the broom," Harry said, "Switch."
"Now?" Ron asked, "We're up in the air."
Harry moved close, swung his leg over, over Ron's broom handle in front of him. Harry's broom hovered in Harry's hand.
"What?" Harry said, "I can't see it, so yeah, try my broom."
Ron trembled a bit, swung his leg over that other broom, held on. As soon as Ron swung his right leg off his own broom, Ron fell. Harry's broom in his hands, Ron tried to pull up, and it only gradually did so, until he leveled off a few feet above the air. Harry flew down.
"Sorry about that," Harry said.
Ron flew slow.
"Think I'd go for a school broom over this," Ron said.
They landed on the bank of the Thames. Harry glanced at the broom, held it.
"Holly wood, phoenix core," Harry said, "Of course, Ollivander said it identified as a wand, because it is a wand, a really big wand."
Harry held the broom, aimed it, blue sparks shot out the end.
"It'll work as well for you as my wand will," Harry said.
"Good in a pinch, that's about it," Ron said.
"On my back," Harry said, as he swung his foot over the broom, "Ride along."
Ron banished his Firebolt II back into the holster, swung a foot over, behind Harry, bit unusual. Ron held on, and Harry took off. Ron spotted it, the small ribbon of purple, and Harry flew for it.
"Harry!" Ron snapped.
"You see it then," Harry said.
"Yes," Ron said, "Doesn't mean you should…"
A tendril of the purple drew them in. Below, the streets, the bridges of London, except everything was on fire, burning. Big Ben fell to the ground. Heat, the bright light everywhere, Harry turned around, met the purple, now a dot, and it pulled them back through.
Harry aimed north, a strand of purple that neared them. Harry flew faster than Ron remembered his Firebolt original or II ever managing, as if sucked through a tunnel, a familiar castle to the right, Hogwarts from the air.
"We're…" Ron started.
Harry flew inward, around the castle, smaller arcs from every brick, every stone, and he landed on top of the Astronomy Tower. Harry spun around, hand to Ron's chest.
"Know what that was?" Harry asked.
Ron shook his head.
"Neither do I," Harry said, "Only they're Londons but not Londons. Don't know if that was a dream or what."
"Burning, right?" Ron asked.
"At least its a shared dream if it is," Harry said.
"Right, makes it better," Ron said.
"Death and destruction," Harry said, "Count on Voldemort to feed that back into my head for my dreams, worse than his Cruciatus."
"Gia's likely worried," Ron said.
"We're here," Harry said, "Promised to help her sort it out."
"We're suspended," Ron said, "Remember—not supposed to be here."
"Oh," Harry said, "Monday then, see if I can talk Hermione—"
"Through that?" Ron said, "We barely made it back."
"Bad idea," Harry said, "Here."
Harry mounted his broom, Ron got onto the back. Harry flew it off the Astronomy Tower, the moon above, over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, headed south. Another tunnel, this one fast, and they returned to London, the sky clear of any tendrils. Harry flew to the top of Big Ben, landed in the belfry.
"Now you're showing off," Ron said.
Harry stood, watched.
"Need somebody to figure those out," Harry said.
"Something only you on your broom can find?" Ron asked.
"Let you get back to Hermione," Harry said, "Where you two heading in the morning?"
"Supposed to be a surprise in Spain," Ron said, "For all I know, it's actually a weekend in Cornwall."
"Well, it's something," Harry said, "And if she asks where we've been, tell her we flew to Hogwarts and back."
Harry disapparated. Ron disapparated, and apparated into the mirrored guest bedroom, Hermione there, a couple of candles lit at the desk.
"Bit late," Hermione said.
"Harry wanted to get in a bit of flying," Ron said as he laid on the bed, "I obliged."
Crookshanks rolled over, Ron scratched his belly. Ron watched himself in the mirror, and wondered about what he'd seen with Harry.
Harry flew toward that filament in purple, the rip across the fabric of the sky. Ron on his back, Harry moved his broom as fast as it could. A tendril of red, the cackle of Voldemort, grabbed the broom and ripped it fast. Harry fell from the broom, crashed into the house on 26 Oak Street. Flames consumed the house, burst into Harry tearing him apart.
Harry woke Friday morning in a sweat.
"Good morning," Gia said, "Never forget, focus on the future, our future."
"You're…" Harry started as he stood.
Gia stood, went in behind him, arms around his waist.
Hoot!
Hedwig's eyes wide as the morning owl delivered The Daily Prophet.
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Friday 14 March 1997
Whiners
Ministry of Magic spokesperson issued a strongly worded statement in response to allegations published in yesterday's Daily Prophet.
"This Ministry does not look favorably upon the whining and excuse making from known suspected Dark Wizards who blame everyone (including the dead You Know Who) for their trouble making except themselves. The Minister of Magic has vigorously pursued a campaign against corruption and Dark Arts during his tenure which has resulted in much progress. False accusations against the Ministry is uncalled for, defamation charges are under consideration."
"Figures," Harry muttered.
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Retraction of Article
Editors here at the Daily Prophet formally retract yesterday's article "We're Misunderstood" written by Rita Skeeter.
"Doesn't particularly help that everybody read it," Gia said.
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Corrupt Ministry Investigators
by Rita Skeeter
As unearthed in yesterday's paper, a trend of corrupt Ministry investigations has emerged, highlighting the inept inability to give accurate answers in certain high profile cases. Aurors are being bribed and encouraged to give certain verdicts, regardless of facts. Investigations are being conducted without just cause or taking an exorbitant amount of resources. A comprehensive study of every case is prohibitive in terms of time and space for this article, so this reporter focuses on the case files for a single individual, namely, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Since the start of the school term, nearly fifty cases have been opened on this teenager, which is significant given only two existed prior.
As the first case of this streak, opened on the second of September prior to any of the activities attributed to Potter. This case has no motivating act, no reason to exist, other than it does, and was designated secret — this was headed by then Junior investigator, James Otterswick. Otterswick was first hired July 27 of last year; fresh out of Durmstrang, he was promoted in September to Deputy investigator, then in December to Chief investigator, both promotions came immediately after cases which found guilt in Potter. Otterswick signed off guilt on two other notable cases, the alleged rape by Potter in January and the alleged murder of MacDonald, all of his cases on Potter have had flimsy or no evidence to support the charges. In every case, an extra two hundred galleons made their way into Otterswick's Gringotts vault, money whose source cannot be accounted for, but was deposited within a day of his signature.
Of the forty one cases available for review, a total of thirty investigators were assigned to investigate (many more than once). For the murders in Hogsmeade last September, three investigators were assigned; Otterswick, Shrimpling, and Lamarsh; Otterswick signed for guilty while Shrimpling and Lamarsh signed for not guilty; a week later, Lamarsh was immediately demoted and fired for "poor performance", while Shrimpling was merely demoted until later date when he too was fired for "poor performance" after a second finding of not guilty. This pattern repeats itself for each and every case file; those investigators who declare Potter guilty are rewarded with promotions and money, while those who clear Potter are then demoted and later fired. Investigators are intelligent people who can figure things out, for nobody has dared to clear Potter of any charge after the first of the year.
These trends clearly indicate that the investigators are being bribed and corrupted, resulting in Harry Potter being determined guilty with shoddy evidence or none at all. Regardless of your opinion of guilt or not, everyone deserves a fair evaluation, for this pattern of recklessness does a disservice to Potter, the victims, and everyone.
"Skeeter's article looks interesting," Gia said, "Exposing the filth."
"Likely issue a retraction tomorrow," Harry snapped.
"It still gets read," Gia said, "All a retraction does is protect The Daily Prophet from liability. Surprised Skeeter could get that in."
"She's got a talent for that," Harry said, "Works for her, unfortunately."
Gia grabbed the letter attached to the fluttering Pigwidgeon, addressed to Harry, opened it.
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Harry
Skeeter is having fun. You should consider giving her an exclusive.
Hermione and me are leaving now, must run.
Ron
"He's consorting with the enemy!" Harry snapped.
"He's covering your six," Gia said, "Can't you see it? That publicity's putting that Ministry on the defensive!"
"By printing my troubles in the bloody newspaper!" Harry snapped.
"Your troubles come from that bloody newspaper," Gia said, "He's fighting fire with fire, you need it, we need it."
Richard, dressed, went down the steps, a moment later, they heard it.
Creak, Squeak
"Front door," Harry grumbled.
Squeak, Squeak
"What have we done to the house?" Gia said, "Let them fix it."
Harry went for the lavatory, Gia followed him into the shower.
Early that evening, Harry apparated with Gia into her bedroom.
Hoot
Hedwig's eyes on them. Harry went over, gave her an owl treat, the window dark beyond.
"On the bed," Gia said.
Harry knelt in front of her. Her loose legs, her hands held the meal sack open. She reached in, pulled out the single cheeseburger and handed it over.
"No complaints," Gia said, "Bit of meat, alright?"
Harry knew the lecture, unwrapped it and ate into the cheeseburger. She took the double and ate that.
"Deliberate starvation is suicide," Gia said, "So we'll work on your appetite."
"Is not," Harry said, "Else all dieters are suiciders."
A cry.
"Forgot how exhausting this was," Kristen said as she came up the stairs, in her police sweats, "Get some for me?"
"Left Richard and Jen there," Gia said, "Going to a movie."
Harry followed Kristen to the other bedroom, ignored the smell.
"Oh…this time," Kristen said, "Bath time."
Paul fidgeted on the changing table, the stains all over him. Kristen filled the sink in the lavatory.
"Hey," Harry said to Paul, "At least you get proper nappies, not the rags my Aunt and Uncle gave me."
Harry wondered if Ron could help in reburying those memories as easily as they'd dug them up.
"Sounds…improper," Kristen said as she entered.
"Don't use turpentine," Harry said.
Harry returned to Gia's bedroom.
"Why?" Gia asked.
"Aunt Petunia did," Harry grumbled.
"Screw them," Gia said.
"Already gone," Harry said.
Of all the things that seem to be related to him in the past year, that was the most agreeable. He hated his Aunt and Uncle, though it still pained him that anybody dies, even as horrible as they were.
"Oh no," Kristen shouted, "HONEY!"
Creak, Squeak
Woof! Woof! Woof!
"Snuffles?" Harry asked.
A voice too quiet for Harry to make out.
Squeak, Squeak
Waa, Waa, Waa
"Ouch!"
Kurt shuffled to the bathroom.
"I'll check," Kurt said.
Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!
Waa, Waa, Waa
Harry's wand came into hand.
"Stay put," Kurt said to Harry.
Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!
Footsteps to the stairs, Kurt stood on the landing, eyes down it, the light went on, his T–shirt over jeans.
"You have no right," Kurt protested.
Hooded heads and shadows on those stairs. Harry got on his feet, held his wand drawn behind his rear.
Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!
"None of your concern!" snapped the first head.
Harry crept, peered around the door.
"It's my house," Kurt said, "Leave."
"MOVE!" Harry barked at Kurt.
"Here for the muggleborn," the man in bottle green said, "Step aside."
Harry recognized the intruder, the one who'd lashed countless times the week before, Macnair, the wand aimed. Harry leveled his wand.
"They're protected—" Harry started.
"LEAVE!" Kurt protested.
"Avada—" Macnair started.
Harry swished and flicked.
"Kedavra!" Macnair finished.
Harry's cyan hit Macnair the split second after the green hit Kurt. Kurt toppled backward, the eyes forever startled. Macnair, as if dropped through a wood chipper, shredded apart in a rain of kibble sized bits and blood.
"Step away!" demanded the second on, wand aimed at Kristen.
Harry swished and flicked, again, cyan, again, this second one became rain to the floor. Sirius, beyond, tackled a fourth, while the third vanished.
"KURT!" Kristen shouted.
Harry aimed, shattered the window.
"FLY HEDWIG!" Harry shouted to the bird, "GIA!"
Harry caught Paul as Kristen seemed to drop.
"KURT!" Kristen shouted.
Dumbledore came up the stairs, Tonks behind him. Tonks grabbed a box, began to pull everything with her wand within. A tingle to Harry's scar, the voice, he understood.
"He's coming," Harry said, "We have to leave, now."
"Lupin's," Dumbledore said.
Harry's Portkey flew out of the holster, Gia held it as he activated it, pressed it against Kristen and Paul.
"What the—" Kristen said, "Kurt?"
"Dead," Harry said, "Sorry."
"I demand explanations!" Kristen said, "A beam of light can't—"
"A Killing curse," Harry said, "I'm famous because I'm the one who survived."
Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024