Chapter 16: Fuck Dumbledore, We Got This

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It's a short one.

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Harry met up with Tom in their usual cafe. They sat at the back table with tea and cakes. Hermione was with them. She was going to take notes and be mediator. Not that she was needed because Tom and Harry had great camaraderie.

"So, Dumbledore is giving me a pardon for me and mine, but not you and yours. What do you think?" Harry asked, taking a sip of tea and separating the cakes by their preferences. Hermione really didn't like sweets, so she munched on a few digestives.

"I think Dumbledore is an arsehole," Tom said like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He picked up a fork and sliced his chocolate cake and took a bite. "I knew he would do that," he added.

"I completely agree with you about the arsehole part. But I'm wondering what you think about the pardon because I don't want you to have to go to jail if you have to kill your older self," the younger boy stated, getting angry on his friend's behalf.

"You're the one who's going to have to kill my older self. I might have to kill some of the Death Eaters," he shrugged it off casually. If they defected, they deserved to die. He had made it a point in telling them that on a nightly basis. They knew the score.

"You're right on that if the prophecy is true," Harry said, nodding his head in agreement. He'd have to kill a few too.

"Well, why don't you just try not to kill anybody, Tom?" asked Hermione, tapping her chin thoughtfully. That was the logical conclusion.

"There is a thought, but that would be rather hard for me because we're going to be in the middle of a battle, and I am a Dark Lord. Who knows what would happen in the heat of fighting?" he stated, a thoughtful look on his face. He had never been in an all-out combat, but he had grown up in the middle of the last world war. He'd heard the stories from the soldiers.

"Well, just because you're a Dark Lord doesn't mean you have to go for the kill shots," the bushy-haired witch pointed out.

"I have an idea, why don't you use the gun I got you instead of spells? There's no law against using a gun in the magical world," Harry said, thinking it could be a loophole they could exploit. They might just get away with killing them all.

"I think they'd still get me for killing somebody, whether I use a gun or spells," the mini Dark Lord stated dryly. He was sure of that to his very bones.

"You're probably right," said Harry with a sage nod.

"Still, you could use the gun and take shots for the arms and legs and incapacitate instead of kill," she persisted. She liked Tom in a roundabout way.

"I could probably do that," said Tom, to placate her into shutting up. He knew that he could if he wanted to, but his anger was very real and his desire to put those that betray him into the ground was palatable.

"Let's do some practice shots at a shooting range," Harry suggested, raring to go. He was itching to use the guns. He had been putting it off for far too long now. He'd done some shooting in some out of the way places at Hogwarts, but there was always the chance of teachers or students coming along.

"Where are we going to find a shooting range that's going to let teenagers use a bunch of illegal guns? Hmmm?" Tom said, sarcastically. "Don't be foolish, Harry," he stated, leveling him with a pointed look.

"You have a point. We'll go to the woods and set up some targets," Hermione said, getting a far away look as she thought of places to where they could shoot.

"Or we could just use the warehouse that I bought that's out in the middle of nowhere," Harry said, rolling his eyes. He had purchased it; they might as well use it.

"No, they'll call the cops on us," she said, waving it away dismissively.

"You have a point there. It's not that far from civilization," Harry said, thinking of his closest neighbor. Which was within a mile. The gunshots would be heard.

"There has to be some place we can practice," Hermione said, almost in a wail. She was getting beyond frustrated.

"All we have to do is add a silence ward around the warehouse," said Tom, finally putting them out of their misery. He remembered being like that and forgetting that magic could be the cure-all of most of their problems. It was hard to think of magical solutions when you are told you can't use magic in your own home.

"Yeah, we could do that. Well, you or the goblins can. Harry and I can't," said Hermione, ready to smack her forehead for not thinking about it herself.

"Sometimes I forget about magic," said Harry. Like Hermione, he wanted to make a facepalm. Well, when you are punished for doing magic, and then told that it's a no-no you tend to just brush it off as a last resort.

"That's because you weren't raised around it," said Tom in a reasonable manner.

"That's very true," said Harry, nodding in agreement.

"So we'll set up a ward around the warehouse to muffle the sound and we'll practice taking maiming shots," Hermione said, getting back on track.

"I'll practice taking kill shots because I want to blow that motherfucker's head off. I'll be taking some of his friends too," Harry said, getting a shit-eating grin on his face. Now that Old Voldy was mortal he was more than willing to help him off this mortal coil. Well, they still had to watch out for any familiar he might have lurking about, but that should be easy enough.

"Language, Harry," his best friend said, though there was no heat in her tone.

"Oh, don't tell me to mind my language, Hermione," the teen whinged. It really wasn't like her to chastise him.

"Oh, you're right, I shouldn't tell you to mind your language. Talk however you like," she said, waving her hand in his direction.

"Thank you," he said, rolling his eyes at her. Then he grinned at her when she tossed a biscuit at his head.

"But still, we need to figure out how to get a pardon for me," said Tom, looking at the two younger teens. "In case something happens. I'm not going to fight my way out of that graveyard if I can help it,"

"You practically own the Wizengamot. I don't understand why you don't get the pardon yourself. Why are we relying on Dumbledore?" Harry asked, not understanding why Tom didn't just order his Death Eaters to vote a pardon for him.

"He is the Chief Warlock. He has the final say in everything. He has veto power. They can vote on it all they want, but he's the one that has the final word on it," explained the mini Dark Lord in a bitter tone. Albus Dumbledore has been a thorn in his side for years.

"That's just bullshit," said Harry, folding his arms like a five-year-old.

"I know," said Hermione in a commiserating voice. "But that's the way it is," she said, getting angry for both of them. No man should have that much power.

"Well, we've got to be able to do something. There's got to be a higher power than Dumbledore," Harry said, slamming his fist into his other hand. He upset his empty teacup and made the other patrons look in their direction. He sheepishly righted his cup and glared at the other customers. They looked away.

"There's the minister," Hermione said with a shrug.

"That sniveling coward," Tom stated with a sneer.

"I thought you got rid of the minister," Harry said, remembering that Tom at taken over the ministry.

"Well, I've got him running scared, that's for sure," the mini Dark Lord said with a sinister grin. "I can get him to write me a pardon," he added thoughtfully. Though he didn't know if he could find the man.

"You're the one who's been in power for so long. Surely, you've got some pull in politics," Harry said, looking at Tom with a thoughtful look.

"I do," said Tom in frustration. "I just don't have the power to give myself a blanket pardon. I'll try to get the minister to write one. However, I am a Dark Lord. So, if he doesn't give me what I want, I'll just take what I want. Let me apply some pressure via my Death Eaters and we'll see what we can do about getting me that pardon the legal way. If he doesn't bow to pressure, then we'll do it the illegal way."

"Besides, even though Dumbledore is the Chief Warlock, he still has to follow the law. He can be arrested for breaking it," Hermione reasoned. She was one to take the law seriously, mostly. She had to know the law in order to know how to avoid being arrested. "Like if he doesn't give you back your invisibility cloak when they say he has to, he can be arrested for that."

"That's good to know," said Harry, knowing that that case might go in front of the Wizengamot soon. Albus was digging in his heels about giving it back.

"So, we'll make sure that he follows the law. And we'll try and get some laws passed to make sure that he does things our way. Give me some time to put some pressure on him," said Tom, picking up his fork again. There was still some cake left and his tea was getting cold.

"OK. We'll give it a week. Until then, we'll do the practice shots and you maiming, me killing," Harry said, gleefully attacking the rest of his afters.

"Does he still think you're a Horcrux?" Hermione asked, wondering if the old man wanted Harry dead.

"Yeah, he does. For some reason he's not listening to anybody telling him differently," the younger teen said, relaying what he heard from Sirius's listening in on the old man's conversations.

"The man is a fool," Tom said, his brow furrowing. They are going to have to watch out for that.

"I hope that doesn't mean he's going to try and kill me just so that Voldemort doesn't rise again," Harry said with a sigh. He really didn't want to have to fight for his life. He'd cap the fucker, but then he'd have to leave England, and he really didn't want to have to do that.

"If I were you, I would get it documented that your scar is horcrux free," his best female friend suggested, sipping her tea.

"I'll get Bill to do that. He's a curse breaker of high standing," Harry said, taking one of the biscuits off the plate and putting it in a napkin. He was full now and was making himself a care package. There were always some left over.

"That's probably a really good idea," Riddle stated, watching Harry snatch up the leftovers. He knew the boy had starved most of his life and didn't begrudge him his food.

"These cakes are really good," Harry said, not the least bit ashamed of his hording. "I like that we come here." He shoved the napkin in his trousers.

"Me too," Tom said with a nod.

"You two are strange," said Hermione, wrinkling her nose at the two males.

"You just don't appreciate good cakes," said Harry, giving her an impish grin.

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Harry and Hermione went back to Grimmauld Place where they encountered Remus doing nothing. The man was just lying on the couch and reading a book. That's all he did. He ordered Kreacher around and lazed around the house bemoaning his fate.

"Just when are you going to get up off your arse and find a place to live?" asked Harry, tired of the man loafing about. He wasn't even looking for work.

"I can't find any place that'll rent to a werewolf?" said Remus for the hundredth time. Though it wasn't even as if he looked.

"Have you tried the muggle world? Or Knockturn Alley? I know for a fact you can live there," asked Harry. He'd asked Tom about it when they discussed Remus still being at his house. Tom said that there were many werewolves living in the shady alley.

"I don't want to endanger the muggles and only dark wizards live in Knockturn Alley," said the werewolf as if he was offended by the suggestions.

"Have you tried buying your own house?" asked Harry, thinking the man could do just that. "You have the money that Sirius left you." He heard a 'Damn straight,' coming from his pocket. He knew Sirius believed much the same thing. They had had many talks about Remus. Sirius was very upset over his ex-friend. He wished he could take his money back, but also wanted the man to just take the money and leave Harry's life forever.

"I don't want to spend that money if I don't have to," said Remus, bashfully. Like he was ashamed of taking money from a friend.

"Too fucking bad, arsehole," the young teen said, stomping his foot and getting very angry. "Get. The. Hell. Out. Of. My. House." He was on his last nerve with the man. This was the final straw. He was done talking. They were due back to Grimmauld Place for summer vacation within the month and he wasn't going to spend his summer arguing with this man.

"Listen here, you little shit, this was my house before it was yours. You told me I could stay as long as it took me to find a place to live. Now you're telling me I have to leave?" the werewolf said, for some reason surprised that Harry was fed up with him.

"I think I've been more than patient. You haven't even bothered trying to find a place to live. It is time for you to get the hell out," Harry said, slashing his hand in the air.

"I agree with Harry, Mr. Lupin, you need to leave," Hermione said, primly folding her hands in front of her.

"Nobody asked you, Miss Granger," the man said with a snarl.

"Look, I was all for letting you stay here, and I felt sorry for your plight. But you are being disrespectful to Harry. And I think it's time for you to go," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"I'd like to see a couple of teenagers make me go," the older man sneered.

"Oh, would you now?" asked Harry, getting a malicious look in his eyes. He was all for forcing the man out of his house.

"Yes, I would," said the werewolf, standing with his arms folding and looking at them smugly.

"You asked for it," said Harry. Lifting his hands in the air. The whole room shook, and a wind began to blow. The occupant's hair was blowing around their heads and their clothes whipped around their bodies. There was a shuddering in the air, like the whole room shook without moving.

Suddenly all of Lupin's things were in front of him. They were packing and organizing into a box. They were shrinking and folding. Remus was stuck fast, and his eyes were narrowing to Harry. He looked like he was fighting his paralysis.

Then the box flew out the front door and Remus Lupin followed, howling all the way. Soon the door slammed and locked, and the werewolf was out of the house. He could be heard screaming obscenities from the street. There was no way he was coming back.

"I can't believe you did that," said Hermione, smiling a radiant smile at her friend. She hadn't known he could do it, but it was brilliant to watch. She knew he was powerful, and since he had done all that without wand or incantation, he was, but not this powerful.

"Well, the man did say he wanted to see me do it," the unrepentant teen said, with a casual shrug. He was just glad it was finally over. He had given the man chance after chance. He didn't even like the man.

"I just didn't believe you had the power to do that," she said, shaking her head at what she had seen.

"I keep telling people I've got more power in my little pinky than most of them have in their entire body, but none of them believe me," Harry said, moving to go to the kitchen/dining room. He wanted to finish off the biscuits from the tea. He had burned many calories from that stunt.

"Then why are you worried about Old Voldemort?" she asked, following him to the eating area. She wouldn't eat, but she wanted to continue this conversation.

"I'm not worried about Voldemort. I'm worried about his Death Eaters attacking me while I'm attacking him. Besides, I have guns," he reminded her.

"That's right, you do. Are you gonna teach me how to shoot?" she asked, knowing that she would be a good shot. She had practiced with a skeet gun with her dad.

"You want to learn how to shoot?" he asked, floored that she had asked. She had said something about it earlier, but he thought she was just trying to impress Tom. Those two were always trying to one up one another.

"I think it would be pertinent. I do have some experience," she said, sitting in one of the chairs as they entered the kitchen area.

Kreacher was putting a tea set on the table, but no food.

"It's not exactly legal," Harry warned her.

"I don't think we are within the bounds of legality right now. We've been talking about killing people for a while now," she pointed out with a huff. She wasn't worried about being within the law when they were talking about the murder of a Dark Lord.

"Point."

"So, I'll come with you when you teach Tom how to shoot?" she asked, bouncing in her seat, making Harry realize that she was indeed a girl. Where had that thought come from?

"Yes, you could come along. I have an extra gun," he said, his cheeks getting pink from her bouncing.

"I'll be your backup man," Hermione stated, stopping moving and putting a hand on his arm.

"Well, you are my right-hand man," he said, getting a hold of his hormones.

"Thank you."

"Not a problem," he said, sincerely.

"So, are you going to sign the contract?" she asked him as he ate the cookies.

"No, I'm going to have Waters look it over, but until Tom has a pardon, no," he said, firmly.

"So, you are going to make it a deal breaker?" Hermione said, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"Yes," he stated.

"What of Voldy?"

"Oh, I'll still take care of him, but I'll let him kill a few people first. They'll be begging me to come and take care of him in the long run," was his answer. He wasn't concerned about people dying. He didn't know them.

"Harry, people will die," she said, aghast.

"How is that my problem? I am not going to go to jail to kill someone. Dumbles is the one playing games with people's lives, not me," Harry stated, biting a biscuit with too much force. It crumbled in his hand and landed in his lap and all over the table.

"I suppose, but I don't have to like it," she said, sadly.

"All he has to do is listen to people, and this could be over before it even starts," Harry said, with a shrug.

"You're right, I know that, but to think of people dying…" she trailed off.

"Look, I don't like it, but I have to think of me first, Tom second, then others," he said, reaching over the table and putting his hand on her arm.

"I know, I know," she said, still thinking of all those that might die. "Fuck Dumbledore. We've got this," she said, smiling at him with a weak smile.

"That's the spirit. We'll get it done as quickly as possible. Tom will rally support and we'll get his pardon," Harry said, smiling reassuring at her.

"I hope so," she said, trying to be supportive.

"He will, we just have to trust him."

That was the problem, while she liked Tom, she wasn't sure she trusted him.