A/N- Hey everyone! I've been reading HP fanfics for almost 20 years, and felt it was time to do my part. This story is full of tropes, but hopefully unique. Harry will be powerful, rich, and handsome, and I'm jealous. The biggest trope is evident in the first chapter, but it will fade as the story progresses.
This will be Harry/Daphne, and relatively quickly so. I'm influenced by all of the fics I've read over the years, but especially by TheBlack'sResurgence, Jeconais, Nonjon, and Bobmin. I implore you to check out their works if you haven't already, and if you notice anything that feels stolen, it probably was, but I swear it wasn't intentional. If you mention it in a comment, I'll do my best to verify, and credit the author in the a/n.
This story will cover the end of 4th and all of 5th year, with a sequel already outlined for the conclusion. It starts a bit slow, timeline-wise, but it'll heat up after the first 50k words. Harry will have some flashbacks, which I know some of you hate, but I'll endeavor to make them as short and necessary as possible.
Also, if you couldn't tell by my spelling so far, I'm American, so my measurements and idioms will likely be frustrating for some of you, but I'm dumb and converting the phrases would hurt my little brain. Sorry for the essay. Here we go. Be nice.
Chapter 1-
June 24, 1995
Harry knew he was in trouble. Each second he stayed in the graveyard his chances of leaving grew worse. His hands were slick with his own sweat and blood, and his heart was pounding so hard he was sure the Death Eaters could hear it. That is if Voldemort would just quit shooting spells at him. As he dodged behind another gravestone, and took a couple of hopefully calming breaths, he knew he had only one option.
He wouldn't cower. He wouldn't run. His parents' deaths may have been inevitable, but they went down fighting. Harry would do the same, and hope they'd be proud of him. He took one last breath. Slowly exhaled. And stood proudly and defiantly.
The determination in his movement seemed to make Voldemort hesitate. Harry's head was held high and his wand aloft, prepared to meet his fate. The peace he felt at the decision was bizarre for the boy, but he'd take it over the fear of the last few minutes.
With a small shake of his head, Voldemort cast the spell that started all of this, the bright green curse illuminating his grotesque face in the darkness.
Harry, recognizing the magic, smirked at the coming end. Instead of trying to move or deflect the Killing Curse, he turned to the only person in this graveyard he hated more than Voldemort. His eyes quickly found the pathetic man, and they filled with hatred as he leveled his wand. Without saying a word, without thinking of a spell, Harry let his emotions take control. In the split second between life and death, time slowed for the boy. He felt his magic respond to his emotions, and it burned its way from his chest to his wand.
A multi-colored beam of light, so bright it forced everyone present to avert their eyes, bore towards Pettigrew with unrelenting fury. Harry watched the magic speed towards its target, not even registering the Killing Curse quickly approaching. As the raw magic met the rat masquerading as a man, he hoped Sirius would be proud, and felt a brief flash of nothingness.
—
Harry came to, and without opening his eyes, knew everything was different. A bright white light invaded his senses even with eyes shut, but the strangest thing was how he felt. He no longer felt the incessant weight of just being alive. His head no longer ached. His arm didn't hurt. His conscience was finally clear of all the things that worried him day-to-day. He no longer felt the weight to be a Triwizard Champion, or a Boy-Who-Lived, or savior of the Wizarding World. He felt nothing. He felt peace.
He thought briefly of those he left behind, but the pain of the thought was somehow bearable. Ron and Hermione would be heartbroken, he knew. Sirius would feel insurmountable guilt. As would Hagrid and the Weasley's, and anyone else that thought they could protect him. But nobody could protect him from that monster. Nobody saw this coming. Regardless, it was over. For better or worse, that life was no longer Harry's problem.
This place, however, he needed to figure out. Where was he? What is this? Which peoples' version of the afterlife was correct and which were as wrong as they were passionate? Because something was clearly here. He felt great physically, but the fact that he felt anything at all meant there was more than the hard floor beneath him.
Taking a breath and opening his eyes, he took in his surroundings. The bright white light was coming from everything around him. The floor he laid upon, the walls of the empty room he was in, the windows, even the world outside those windows.
"Where am I?" He mused aloud, standing and slowly turning in a circle.
"That's tough to answer," a woman's quiet voice eventually responded, startling Harry.
Harry spun towards the owner of the voice, a silhouette standing in front of the door to this strange room.
"Why don't we step outside where it's a bit nicer while I try to explain," the woman suggested.
The woman didn't sound like a threat, but her voice was thick with emotion that Harry was immediately wary of. She turned and walked out the door, leaving Harry to make the choice to follow.
He figured things would be pretty boring if he stayed where he was, so he cautiously moved forward.
As he reached the door and passed through, the world shifted dramatically. The white turned to dazzling blues, reds, and yellows. The grass was a brighter green than he thought possible, and a slow-moving creek was the type of picturesque that only exists in a dream. He spun slowly, taking in the beauty of the place.
The creek ran through a smattering of beautiful oak trees, with flowers dotting the grass. Past the trees stood a very impressive mountain range, the tops of which were frosted with snow. The valley he stood in seemed unending, with the building he arrived in having disappeared entirely. As he finished his rotation, he saw the person whose voice he must have heard standing close by.
His heart jumped so high in his throat that Harry knew he would choke, as he took in the sight of his mother, tears streaming down her face. Without thought, Harry rushed towards her, stopping a step away and falling to his knees.
"I'm so sorry, Mum," he said softly, tears falling freely from his own eyes. Harry's emotion overcame him, stealing his ability to do anything but cry at his mother's feet. But it was only for a brief moment as he was quickly swept into the woman's arms.
"My baby boy," Lily Potter whispered through her own tears. "You have nothing to apologize for. I should be apologizing to you."
Harry shook his head, returning the first hug from his mother that he could remember. She felt real, and comforting, and like home.
"No, mum. You saved me. You and Dad both. I just wasn't strong enough to make it worth it. But I'm here now. It's over."
Lily pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes, and her gaze reflected the relief he felt in that idea. She seemed to hesitate before giving her son a watery smile and clearing her throat.
"Harry, you're stronger than anyone could possibly know. We've been watching. We've seen what you've been through. What you've overcome. We watched as my horrible sister and her husband neglected you. Treated you like you didn't deserve the air you breathed. We saw Quirrel and the Stone. We watched you and Ron go after Ginny, and the incredible courage you showed facing the Basilisk.
"We watched as Moony taught you the Patronus, and how brave you and Hermione were for going after Padfoot. We saw the World Cup turn into a disaster, and how well you reacted. And we watched you fight through the tasks of that damn tournament with the ability of someone much older.
"We've watched you make the best of friends with the best of people. And we watched you stand up to the worst type of human, accepting your destiny with grace and confidence."
Harry's eyes grew with each sentence, realizing his mother knew much more about him than he did her. His heart, having vacated his throat, felt fuller than it had ever been. His mother was proud of him, and it meant more than anything he had ever experienced.
"Your life," Lily continued. "Hasn't been your own. It's been one emergency to the next. One disaster after the other. And it's been so frustrating not being able to help." Harry could see that frustration returning as Lily took a calming breath.
"If it makes you feel better," Harry quickly interrupted with a smirk, "If you could have helped, I'd have probably refused it."
Lily laughed and it was immediately his favorite sound. All he'd had from her before this moment were her last, agonizing screams.
Her laugh was like a wind chime, light and airy and full of hope and delight. It was a sound he would love to hear every day.
"You're right, Harry," she agreed after a moment. "You would have, but I would have liked to offer anyway."
Harry stood, hands reaching to help his mother off her knees. She accepted, but refused to release his right hand. They began walking aimlessly, following the creek towards the beautiful trees. Harry couldn't help himself, and took a moment to soak in the sight of the woman he had laid awake and wished for his entire life.
She was taller than him by an inch or two, her red hair flowing almost to her hips. Her skin was like ivory, with a dusting of freckles that would fit right in with the Weasley's. She was wearing a white sundress that stood out starkly from the color of her hair and her eyes.
Her eyes. He finally understood why people always mentioned them. It was like looking into a mirror, but her's shone with a peace that he had never known. She was beautiful. Just a few years his senior, she hadn't aged a day.
She noticed him staring, but didn't mention it as she was doing the same. They strolled slowly, hand in hand, taking in the appearance of someone they both loved more than they could say.
Harry, having committed her to memory, finally realized something. "You said 'we'. Multiple times. Mum, is Dad here?"
His uncertainty made it difficult to meet her eyes, but he felt a hand under his chin, forcing his face up to hers.
"Of course he is, Harry." Her smile was radiant and welcoming. "James is here, and can't wait to meet you. We decided that I would meet you first, to not overwhelm you."
Harry nodded, appreciating the gesture. "I think I'm still a bit overwhelmed, but I'd love to see him," he said fervently.
"Then turn around, kiddo," said a boisterous voice behind him. As he turned he was caught in a crushing embrace.
—
Albus Dumbledore knew there was trouble. The cup should have immediately returned the winner to the entrance of the maze. Unfortunately, neither cup nor winner appeared. His eyes quickly scanned the crowded pavilion, taking in the students and visiting families, the various Ministry employees, and the Minister for Magic himself.
The headmaster rose to his feet, striding towards the maze, and beckoned his nearby staff towards him. Minerva reached him first with a question in her eyes, Severus, Hagrid, and Fillius close on her heels. Professor Moody, however, was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is Alastor?" He asked, suspicions forming quickly.
"Saw him walkin' towards the castle just a minute ago," Hagrid quickly offered.
Albus, brow furrowed, gestured towards a large black dog and his handler who stood not far away. "Remus, if you and your companion could please find Alastor Moody and ask him to stay where he is, I would be in your debt."
Remus, acknowledging the seriousness in the headmaster's eyes, nodded quickly. "We'll find him, Albus." The two hurried towards the castle, the wizard casting a tracking charm as he went.
"Albus, what's going on?" Professor McGonagall asked worriedly.
"Nothing good, I fear," Albus responded, contemplating his next move. That move needed to be soon, as Minister Fudge hurried in their direction.
—
As he entered the empty castle, Remus cast a disillusionment charm on the dog, and Sirius quickly shifted back to his human form. "What the hell is going on, Moony?"
"No idea," the haggard man responded. "Albus is worried, and it's not like Alastor to abandon a post." Both men knew exactly what was being asked of them, but were confused as to why.
The two practically sprinted towards the Defense classroom, uncaring of the noise they made. As they reached the correct corridor, however, they slowed and cast noise-dampening charms. They paused on either side of the door and Sirius tapped out a rhythm on Remus' shoulder, like he had back in their pranking days. On the third tap, Sirius swung the door open wide and Remus entered, bringing his wand to bear while scanning the room.
Sure enough, the grizzled old veteran stood with his back to them, pausing from stuffing his belongings into a large trunk.
"Alastor," Remus called to the startled ex-auror. "Albus wants to speak with you. It's urgent."
The man responded by raising his hands slightly, seemingly agreeable. He turned slowly, his peg-leg an obstacle, and gave a lopsided grin to the Marauder. "Of course, Lupin. Just wanted to get a jump on getting the hell out of this school. "
Remus relaxed slightly, lowering his wand. Moody took this opportunity, and quickly pulled his own, before being blasted off his feet by Sirius who stormed through the doorway, having been waiting for Remus' signal.
"The hell is going on Moony?" Sirius asked again, as he watched Moody slowly pick himself up off the ground.
"No idea. Stupefy."
As Remus casually tied up the suspicious professor, Sirius moved to search the man's office. He sucked in a breath as he opened a large trunk, gesturing the werewolf over to him.
"Bloody hell," Remus muttered.
"Where the fuck is Harry?" Sirius responded, eyes wild and full of worry.
—
"Dad," Harry gasped, soaking in the embrace from his father.
"Harry, you crafty kid" James responded, eventually pushing his son out to arms' reach. "You did it! You got him!"
Harry looked into the jubilant eyes of his father, his own clouding with confusion. "Huh? Got who? I didn't even fire at Voldemort before I died…"
Harry's confusion only grew as James, still holding his shoulders, chuckled and shook his head. "Of course you didn't, that wouldn't have done any good. You got that traitorous bastard good though! Right now his magic is deeming him unworthy of it. You gotta see it."
"James," Lily interjected disappointedly from behind Harry. "Maybe that should wait until you actually greet your son."
"Yes, of course," James said sheepishly before turning to Harry. "Buddy, I'm so conflicted seeing you here right now. I'm unbelievably proud of you, and ecstatic to hug you, but I didn't want this to happen until you looked older than I do at the very least."
Harry couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping, and stepped from under his father's hands. "Sorry to disappoint, Dad. But I didn't really have a choice."
"You didn't, Harry. But you may now."
"James," Lily warned with a stern look. "Give the boy a minute, would you? Jesus!"
"Hold on," Harry interjected before his father could respond. "What does that mean? Aren't I dead? Avada Kedoink off the noggin again and all that?"
James smirked at his son before looking at Lily who gave a defeated shrug. "Yeah, buddy. You're not great at avoiding that one, huh? Maybe look into leaning slightly in one direction or the other."
Harry barked a laugh before lightly pushing his father in the chest. "Hey now, the first one I was a baby, and this one I was outnumbered by twenty masked idiots! What good would a dodge have done?"
"Fair enough," James said between laughter. "But hey, you managed to get Wormtail before your Avada Attraction kicked in again. Could've got Malfoy if you really went for it."
"What's happening to him?" he asked with a grin. Speaking to his father was exactly what he expected it to be after countless stories from Sirius and Remus.
"He's currently feeling the retribution for every crime against magic he's ever made. Doesn't look fun, but somehow I can't look away."
"That's a fun trick to have," Harry muttered, wishing he'd known it before he died.
"Harry, there are things we need to explain," said James, his eyes searching for his wife who was looking at her feet unhelpfully.
"You're dead. Kinda," he pushed forward without the support he wanted from his wife. "I'm here. Lily's here. This is real. But.."
Harry looked between his hesitant dad and his mum, confusion in his eyes. "But what? I'm dead or I'm not. That seems rather binary. How is there a 'but'?"
"But fate's a thing," Lily finally responded. "And it seems it may not be done with you."
"Excellent," Harry muttered sarcastically.
"Don't be flippant," his mother admonished lightly, causing Harry to redden. "Fate is what saved you as a baby, and it's what will save your friends too, if you allow it."
Harry walked towards the creek confusedly, bending down and feeling the cool water rush between his fingers as he thought of his friends. "I don't understand," he finally responded. "I'm dead. I meant it to be that way. And you're saying I don't get to stay dead?"
James made to reach out to the boy, but Lily raised a hand to stop him.
"Harry, I believe fate is giving you a chance. A chance to learn how to change your circumstances. A chance to put an end to an evil that will shape the world immeasurably if you're dead. A chance to be the savior you so reluctantly seem to be. A chance to live your life, and save the lives of people like Hermione, and Ron, and Hagrid, and Sirius. A chance to be the man you're meant to become, and then come back here when you're finished."
Her voice was ethereal, and hard to ignore.
"What if I don't want to leave?" Harry pleaded. "This is the first time I've felt peace in my entire life."
"We won't force you," answered James. "Just hear us out, and if you choose not to return, we'll respect it. Time doesn't work the same here, so we can talk it through."
"This isn't goodbye? I can stay for a bit while we figure it out?"
"You can stay for a bit, buddy. I wouldn't send you back without a few tricks for those we left behind."
—
"So let me make sure I have this right," Harry said, rubbing his eyes to try to clear the confusion. "Voldemort came after us because of some prophecy that said I could defeat him, and magic or fate or whatever has stepped in to give me another chance?"
It was hard to believe, but so was the last four years of his life. And so was the fact that he was sitting in the grass talking to his parents.
"Basically," his father agreed. "It's hard to understand for people who haven't experienced this place, but there really is some sort of magic that keeps things moving. We haven't met a 'God' or anything, but with everything we can see and do now that we're dead, it just feels true."
"And that power is upset that Voldemort has sent so many of us here before our time," Lily continued. "I knew it the moment you were hit with the curse. There was just a feeling of wrongness, and the knowledge of how to fix it."
Harry felt overwhelmed. His life had always seemed strange, but this was another level of absurdity. Why would some mystical power even care about what happened in the real world? Why would it intervene? Why was it trusting a 14-year old boy instead of resurrecting Godric Gryffindor, or Merlin, or King Arthur or something? It made no sense.
Harry stood and began to pace, thoughts whirling frantically through his mind. His parents sat, hands intertwined, watching their son with a mixture of pride and concern on their faces. After a few short moments of intense consideration, Harry stopped pacing. With his back to his parents he took a deep breath. And another.
"Fine." His voice was strong and sure. "I'm choosing to believe this, since I don't seem to have a choice otherwise. I'm not agreeing to anything, but if I decide to go back, I'm going to need some help."
Harry finally turned to his parents, his eyes clear of uncertainty and full of determination. "Will you help me?"
James and Lily smiled at their son, standing to embrace him again. "Of course we will, Harry," Lily whispered softly. "We'll do everything we can while we have the chance."
"And not just us," James added, an arm around both his son and his wife. "There's a whole crowd of people who may have made some light threats to me if I don't allow them to meet you."
Harry smiled at his parents, took another deep breath, and nodded firmly.
"Well, let's get started then."
—
—
Harry woke with a pounding headache, signaling that he was, in fact, alive once more. He was lying on his stomach, his head facing away from the only sound he could hear- a shrill, terrified scream. Pettigrew. He fought the urge to smirk evilly, an expression he had adopted from one of his tutors during his time on the other side.
Harry cracked his eyes open a fraction of an inch, unsure in which direction Voldemort and his band of merry men stood. All he saw ahead of him were gravestones, and knew they must all be near where the rat fought for his life. Harry took a moment to center himself with shallow breaths, remaining as still as possible. He heard a muttered "Silencio," and Pettigrew fell silent.
Harry knew that he had rejoined his body just moments after it had fallen, and he needed to take advantage of the fact that everyone thought he was dead. With one final breath, the boy-who-lived-again quickly pushed himself to his feet, summoning Pettigrew to him as he did.
Voldemort, clearly stunned by the development, stared on in shock. As Pettigrew reached Harry, he switched his focus and summoned Cedric's body and the Triwizard Cup. Just before the cup reached him, he turned to the Dark Lord.
"Quit hitting me with that curse, Thomas," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "It's not very nice."
The boy, the murderer, and the victim disappeared before the bewildered Dark Lord could even raise his wand, leaving behind a graveyard full of very confused wizards.
—
As Harry collapsed to the ground under the weight of the two bodies he carried, triumphant music began playing from the pavilion. He shoved Pettigrew off and away from him, stunning him for good measure, before gently easing Cedric's body to the ground. The spectators, unsure of what had happened, were silent.
"We need to talk," Harry said confidently to an approaching Dumbledore. The man nodded immediately, concern showing in his eyes.
"Minerva," the old wizard called to his Deputy. "Please send the students back to their common rooms. And it seems a very unfortunate conversation needs to be had with Amos." Albus gave Cedric's body a look of pure heartbreak before steadying himself and motioning for Harry to follow. He levitated the stunned Pettigrew before him as he marched towards the castle walls.
Harry followed on his heels and noticed a small crowd rushing to catch up. "Dumbledore!" Fudge called loudly. "What the devil is going on here?"
The Headmaster slowed just a bit as he turned to look at the Minister. "That's what we are going to discover, Cornelius. I suggest you stay here for a moment. Amos will need your support."
It was an order, not a request, and if Fudge took exception he didn't voice it. Instead, he turned and headed back the way they came.
Harry felt a hand slip into his right, and turned to see a clearly worried Hermione. A quick glance to his left revealed his other best friend. He nodded to Ron, who gave his shoulder a squeeze in response. Harry squeezed Hermione's hand and shot her a sad smile that she returned.
Nothing was said between the trio, but Harry knew they would be with him whatever the future may hold. He had never been more grateful for them.
Arthur passed by, giving Harry a look of concern, and caught up with the Headmaster. "Albus, I'd like to be here to look after Harry's interests. Judging from what I've seen, he needs someone in his corner."
"Of course, Arthur," Dumbledore replied. "Though I would guess you won't be the only one."
True to his word, as they entered the castle they came upon a large black dog who immediately trotted up to Harry and licked his free hand. The boy ignored the sneer Snape sent his way as the man approached, and scratched the dog behind the ear. The group continued their journey to the Headmaster's office, the gargoyle springing aside as they approached. They were all shortly seated in various comfy chairs, except for Pettigrew who lay in a heap on the floor.
"Arthur, I trust you remember what I told you about Sirius Black?" Albus questioned, receiving a confused nod in return. The confusion cleared when the dog immediately transformed into the aforementioned wizard, and lunged towards his godson, pulling the boy into a hug. Harry appreciated the gesture and relished the closeness for a moment, before pulling away and returning to his seat.
"Albus," Sirius began while turning. "Moody isn't exactly himself at the moment. I left Remus with who appears to be Barty Crouch Jr.- after the polyjuice wore off."
"Crouch Jr?" Dumbledore repeated with confusion. "Dare I ask about the state of the proper Alastor Moody?"
"He's mad enough to shit fire, and likely has a bad kink in his neck, but he's alive," Sirius answered. "Remus was unpacking him when I left to find Harry."
Dumbledore looked at the man in confusion, but quickly cast a Patronus, directing it to tell Remus to bring the two wizards to his office when able.
"Well, I must say I did not see that coming," the wizard muttered, looking every bit of his advanced age. "Harry, I expect you have quite the story to tell, and we need to get our ducks in a row before involving the Minister."
"I agree sir, I'll be quick. There's too much to go over right now, but I'll give you the gist."
Harry explained what happened after he and Cedric grabbed the cup, his voice wavering a bit after sharing Cedric's fate. He didn't mention his time on the other side, but only for expediency's sake. He did share the fact that he survived another killing curse.
"When I came to," he continued. "Everyone assumed I was dead, so I summoned Wormtail, Cedric, and the cup, and here we sit."
"So he has succeeded in obtaining a new body," Dumbledore mused before turning to Snape.
"I'll go now, Albus," the potions master said before even being asked the question.
"With care, my boy. It is likely a very tense environment at the moment."
Severus' lips twitched slightly, as he nodded and stood, sparing a blank glance in Harry's direction before leaving the room.
As the door closed, Dumbledore raised his wand and cast a multitude of privacy spells. "I assume you have more to say now that Severus is gone?"
"He could have stayed, sir," Harry responded with a shrug. "I have a newfound… respect isn't the right word. A newfound apathy towards him. I know what happened, and that he's on our side. I doubt I'll ever like the man, but I understand."
Harry's eyes seemed to unfocus as he remembered the conversation he had with his mother regarding the man.
"His choice in the matter didn't exist, Harry," she had told him. "You can't understand what it was like at the time. Being in Slytherin house usually ended one of two ways, recruitment to Voldemort, or pain for yourself and family. The only Slytherins I can remember who didn't share that fate were from families either too powerful to threaten or too well hidden to find. I've checked on him often over the years, and his life has been almost as difficult as yours. I'm not asking you to forgive him, but you need to use him."
Harry wasn't happy with the conversation, or the promise he had made his mother, but he would stick to his word.
"How?" Dumbledore asked simply.
"I died," Harry replied, causing the atmosphere in the room to grow unbearably heavy.
He once again found Hermione's hand in his, and Sirius moved to stand behind him, his hand on Harry's shoulders. He took a deep breath, gave a small smile, and continued.
"My mum met me when I woke up. She introduced me to Dad, and others," he said, his eyes full of emotion.
"Remarkable," Dumbledore breathed.
"You met Prongs and Lily?" Sirius demanded, and Harry turned to look at him and grinned.
"Sure did, Pads," he responded, using James' nickname for the man. "They asked me to tell you a lot of things, but the first was that they forgive you. If you guard my back in the future."
Sirius, unable to take much more out of tonight, took two steps and sank to his knees in front of Harry and pulled the boy into another hug.
"With my life, Harry," he promised roughly.
"How long were you there?" Arthur asked gently.
Harry noticed that nobody in the room seemed to question his claims, a fact that made Harry's heart warm.
"Time doesn't really operate the same on the other side, Mr. Weasley. It kind of moves as you need it to. I had what felt like a couple months to get to know my parents, and spent another few months training."
Harry's content smile was contagious, and Hermione was somehow beaming while softly crying at the same time.
"I'm so happy for you, Harry," she whispered. "But how were you able to come back? And… why did you?"
"Well, the powers-at-be decided your lives would be too boring without a Potter to spice things up," he responded with a grin. "We can talk about the 'how' later, but I don't really understand it myself. As for why, I was given time with my parents that I should have always had. And it was incredible."
He squeezed her hand and looked around the room, meeting the gaze of the people that meant so much to him.
"I know what a gift that was, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure Voldemort doesn't take that away from anyone else."
Harry would have been surprised to know that his eyes glowed a bit at his resolution. The confidence in his statement was palpable, and it inspired the same in the others. Dumbledore softly cleared his throat, breaking the spell of the words.
"An entirely admirable goal, my boy," he said. "And may I be the first to officially welcome you back, I'm very pleased you've returned."
"Thank you, sir," he smiled before switching targets. "Dearest Godfather, would you be so kind as to change back into your more handsome form? We have guests at the door that really shouldn't see you yet."
Sirius glanced at the door in confusion before shrugging and transforming. Ron, still obviously trying to wrap his head around everything, seemed to think this might be something that required a simple answer.
"How do you know, Harry?"
"If I focus I can feel magic. I believe it's Fudge, Malfoy Sr., and Professor McGonagall," he offered. "It's something I picked up in my time away."
Ron, knowing he had been silly to think anything about this would be simple, merely shrugged. "That's useful."
"Indeed it is, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore interjected. "And you are correct, Harry. Can I assume you have a plan for the esteemed Minister?"
"I may have talked it over with some folks," Harry responded dryly, not giving anything away. "I knew he wouldn't wait long before inserting his nose into my business. If everyone could just follow my lead?"
"Of course, Harry," Arthur replied for all of them, as Dumbledore removed his wards.
"Enter."
McGonagall opened the office door cautiously, taking in the scene, eyes coming to a rest on Pettigrew with disgust. She was followed by Cornelius Fudge, typical garish bowler hat in hand, and Malfoy, who looked as if he smelled something very unpleasant as his eyes scanned the room, briefly meeting Harry's.
"Twice in one night, Mr. Malfoy. What a pleasure," Harry said with a smirk.
Malfoy merely scoffed in response, turning his attention elsewhere. Dumbledore conjured three extra chairs, the large office quickly becoming crowded.
"Minister," Dumbledore began, "I believe we have a handle on what has transpired this evening."
"I hope it matches what I've heard from other sources, Albus," Fudge responded, eyes flitting to Malfoy briefly.
"I cannot confirm stories that I have not heard, but I can tell you that Harry and his explanation have my complete trust," the Headmaster responded, somewhat cooly.
Harry, letting silence settle in for a moment, was rewarded with Fudge breaking the awkwardness waspishly.
"Well, boy? What is it you wish to say for yourself?"
"Minister, what I say will not be for myself, but for all of us," Harry began calmly. "Voldemort is back, through the assistance of Peter Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Jr. He has a new body, and wasn't very happy with me, it seems."
"He-who-must-not-be-named is dead," Fudge snapped, quickly interrupting Harry. "You must be confused by the trauma you have suffered this evening."
"He's alive, Minister," Harry refuted. "But it is, of course, your choice to believe it or not. We actually captured both Death Eaters that helped him if you would like to interrogate them."
"Of course we will, Mr. Potter," Fudge responded pompously. "I have aurors waiting at the bottom of the stairs to take Mr. Pettigrew into the Ministry to get his story. We luckily ran into Lupin on the way here. After we lock up Crouch, we will speak with Peter. He's a hero, if anything!"
The way the Minister spat Remus' name forced Harry to take a calming breath.
"Excellent, sir," Harry forced. "Unfortunately, Pettigrew won't be so easy to question."
"And why is that, boy," Malfoy interjected nastily. "I can see the man with my own eyes."
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy," Harry cheered sarcastically. "Your son shares your many talents."
Harry paused waiting for the obnoxious man's face to redden. The wait was brief. Before he could respond, Harry continued.
"Before returning to the castle, I hit Pettigrew with a burst of accidental magic. Through discussion with the Headmaster, I've learned that it's some sort of Judgment spell. As it's tied to me, I'm the only person that can remove it."
Harry was stretching the truth slightly, but even though Harry had learned about the spell and its counter, Fudge certainly hadn't. The minister was clearly thinking quickly, as he turned to Dumbledore.
"Is this true, Albus?"
"Unfortunately so, Minister," he responded, knowing what was expected of him. "I have bargained with young Harry to remove the spell, but he is adamant that he will only do so in an emergency session of the Wizengamot."
"What!?" Fudge raged. "Unacceptable! Why would we pull our Wizengamot members out of bed at this hour? I won't allow it!"
"It's not up to you, Cornelius," Dumbledore began firmly. "The power to make that call lies with the Chief Warlock, and I have deemed it necessary. I will also be taking full responsibility for the man during his journey to the Ministry, as it may prove dangerous for him to be away from Mr. Potter. I shall make the required floo calls, and the session will begin in an hour. I expect to see you gentlemen there."
"And if I simply take Mr. Potter into custody as well?" the Minister asked threateningly.
"I will not allow that, Minister."
The air in the room seemed to crackle with electricity, the power behind Albus' promise immense. Fudge spluttered for a minute, unable to find any words, and glanced towards Malfoy who looked murderous. Fudge shook his head to clear it, and finally responded.
"Fine, Albus. But hear me well, after this farce of a session, you and the boy will have hell to pay."
As the two stormed out of the office Harry bit back a snide retort, focusing instead on what he needed to accomplish.
"Thanks for the help, sir," he said to Dumbledore. "I was going to push you in that direction if you didn't pick up on it."
"Of course, Harry. Your plan as to how we proceed?"
"According to one of my tutors while I was away," Harry began. "Any Wizengamot member can request a testimony under Veritaserum, is that correct?"
"It is, Harry," answered Arthur. "But Pettigrew won't be on trial, so there will be no call for the potion."
"In an emergency session, what is required to officially question someone on suspicion of a crime?" Harry asked.
"Someone to propose the questioning, and a member of one of the permanent Wizengamot seats, the Faithful Eight, to second the motion."
"And who holds those seats, Mr. Weasley?"
"The Black, Bones, Boot, Longbottom, Greengrass, Yaxley, Dumbledore, and Potter families," the man answered, beginning to understand Harry's plan. "Albus isn't allowed to both vote and act as Chief Warlock, and his brother refuses to join, so the Dumbledore seat lies empty. Your seat has been empty since your Father's death. I'm assuming you have found a way to fill it a bit early?"
"Yes sir," Harry responded with a smile. "The Cup is a magically-binding artifact, after all."
"Oh my God, Harry!" Hermione almost shouted. "You're considered an adult in the eyes of Magic!"
"And the government, Hermione. And don't think I haven't noticed your lack of respect for me as your elder the past few months," Harry responded with a grin.
"Oh shut up, Harry," she jabbed back. "I'll always be a year older than you."
"Fair enough, I guess we can forgo the respect. But you better be nice to me if you want to see my Manor."
"Manor?" Ron asked quietly.
"The Potter Family Manor has been under a Fidelius tied to the house itself, and empty for almost 20 years, but I plan on opening it back up. I hear it has a quidditch pitch," Harry said, elbowing the redhead playfully.
"It does, Harry," Sirius spoke up, having lived there for a bit. "It's a special place."
Harry glanced at Ron, realizing the boy had been far too quiet during all of this. "When we get it cleaned up, I'll have you over first thing, mate."
"Great," the boy responded without much conviction. "Right after you assume your Wizengamot seat and take on the Minister, we'll play some quidditch."
His tone was emotionless, and Harry knew he would have to talk to his friend, but now wasn't the time.
"Okay, sir," he said to the Headmaster. "If you could begin calling in the members of the Wizengamot, I'll brief Sirius on what his role is."
"Uh, Harry," Sirius said, his hand raised comically, like a school child with a question. "Don't know if you forgot, but the Ministry isn't exactly the safest place for me at the moment."
"Sharp as a Malfoy, this one is," Harry muttered to Ron, trying to draw a response and failing. "You'll be here until I get Pettigrew to confess, I hope to get you cleared tonight."
Sirius barked a laugh, glad the evening was finally turning their way. "Harry, I have to ask. Who was it that gave you lessons in Wizengamot protocol?"
Harry buffed his fingernails, drawing out the silence. He knew he would enjoy this moment. "I think his name was… Arcturus Black. Relative of yours?"
Sirius' jaw dropped as he paled, and Dumbledore began chuckling behind his desk.
"Things are becoming much more clear to me," he said. "Tonight should be fun."
A/N- I promised tropes, didn't I? If you didn't pick up on it, the squiggles (~~~) indicate time spent on the other side, as will the occasional flashback in italics. I chose to spread it out instead of a huge training montage dump at the beginning of the story, though it will become a much smaller part of the story as we go.
We're getting into Wizengamot stuff now, and instead of spending 4 years of my life studying all available information on the fake government (which usually contradicts itself), I did a quick survey and improvised. If It's offensively wrong, let me know and I'll edit, though I'd prefer if we just treat the entire story as incredibly AU.
Thanks for reading!