(AN:) No real plans for this yet. It's a setup to send Harry just about anywhere he could make the biggest splash. Current ideas: RWBY, Skyrim, Hellsing, Golden Sun, Overlord (the game, not the anime), Marvel Universe, DC Universe. Suggestions welcome.

The courtroom deep in the underground Ministry of Magic was filled to the brim for the trial of the century. It was the first time outside parties were even allowed into the room for the proceedings because it was such a high profile case. Their hero, their savior, had been delving into magic that had been banned for the past five centuries.

It didn't matter that he had stopped He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with that magic; this trial was to prove that nobody in this post-You-Know-Who Britain was above the law.

At least that's what it looked like on the surface. The reality that Harry Potter knew was that the Death Eaters were getting the final laugh after all. Nothing had changed; they were still in charge and still anti-muggle and muggleborn. It was just that now they couldn't be as blatant; they could just…do precisely what they did before Tom Riddle's rebirth: silently, insidiously worm their way into positions of power then abuse that power.

The prime example was the complete arsehole who was sitting in the Minister's seat making a mockery of the court: Lucius Malfoy.

Harry had personally thrown the smarmy git under the bus, stating in no uncertain terms that the Death Eater scum deserved to be treated as all traitors deserve to be treated.

If only he'd been a bit more discreet about his methods of disposing of Riddle's followers or perhaps a bit more bloodthirsty, he wouldn't be in this mess. He tested the chains binding him to the chair and found them utterly immobile.

"…and it is of my opinion that the accused has used his awful, fell magicks to beguile and ensnare the public at large…" King Git rambled on.

'Oh, just bloody kill me already. Everyone knows that's what you're building up to and you're just wasting my time,' Harry thought ruefully. 'Bloody hell, he loves to hear himself talk as much I hate to hear it and that's saying a lot.'

"…It is with that being said that we will begrudgingly allow the accused to speak for we must know the locations of important pieces of Wizarding Britain's proud history," Malfoy sneered down at him. "Bring the Veritaserum!"

Harry smiled behind the mask they'd forced over his mouth. This was going to be fun. The bailiff, one Draco Malfoy in a true show of nepotism, slowly, agonizingly so, removed the mask, showing the wolfish, slightly unhinged smile he was currently sporting. The smile grew wider when ickle little Draco recoiled back initially.

"Aww, what's the matter? Afraid of little ol' me?" he drawled out mockingly. He laughed aloud when Draco pulled his wand and pointed it with a shaking hand. "Bloody hell, you're pathetic. And you're one to talk about Britain's history, Lucy. Didn't your worthless bloodline come from France at the turn of the century? Something about the pig farmer that was your great-great grandfather loving his pigs a little TOO much?"

Malfoy the senior cleared his throat meaningfully and Harry found his mouth forced open with a spell. Without even a little finesse, Malfoy the lesser dumped the whole bloody bottle of truth potion down his waiting gullet.

Somewhere in the proceedings, it had been speculated that he had a resistance to potions. It was an outright lie, but not for the reasons that they believed. They were certain he wasn't abnormally affected by any potions.

A combination of factors left him metabolizing potions and poisons faster than anyone else. Beneficial potions worked faster, hindering potions were out of his system before they could be felt, and poisons usually just gave him a bit of gas.

So, when he swallowed the overdose of truth serum and didn't kick the bucket like they expected, they were surprised, but they played it off like they'd been right the whole time. That and he pretended to fall into the emotionless trance that those who took the potion fell into.

To "verify" the potion was working, they asked him the standard questions. Ultimately a fruitless endeavor because if the potion worked, it worked, but if it didn't work, what stopped the person who took the potion from just pretending?

After that exercise in banality, they got to the meat of the matter.

"Now, Mr. Potter, now that we've dispensed with the theatrics, where are those priceless artifacts we know you possess?" Lucius asked.

It wasn't time to be overt in messing with him. Not yet.

"Could you be more specific? After all, I have several items that could be construed as priceless in that either no one would want to buy them or no one could buy them, making them literally priceless," he answered in an emotionless monotone.

"Very well, if you wish to be difficult about this, where is Slytherin's locket?"

Of course he'd ask for that one, even after it was cleansed of his master's soul.

—

…the ancient book he'd found in the Room of Requirement lay on the table and he frequently checked it even as he drew the runes on his chest, aided by the mirror. Once he was sure each one was correct, a wave of his wand and everything began to burn, the runes glowing brilliantly white.

—

"There is a desert in Chile called the Atacama. In this desert is an area known as the Valle de la Luna. Whoever seeks Slytherin's locket should travel to the narrowest ravine there midday with no water and wait three hours for the rock face to open."

Lucius narrowed his eyes even as his court scribe wrote that down and asked, "And just how did you place Slytherin's locket there when you haven't been out of the country?"

"House elf."

"Very well. Where is…" he checked his notes, "Hufflepuff's cup?"

Oh, this was too easy.

—

…the cup was smoking a bright white, a product of the cleansing spell he'd cast. He picked it up and the evil that had been emanating from it was gone. Success! Now to store it in himself just like the locket. And didn't that sound dirty.

—

"At the bottom of the Marianas Trench in a sealed obsidian box."

"Hmm, simple enough. Where is Ravenclaw's diadem?" Lucius asked curiously. The fool was believing his every word.

—

…the cold metal of the diadem was pressing around his head. The runes etched there burned in that familiar way and the diadem sunk into his skin as though he were made of putty.

—

"There is a facility called the Svalbard Global Seed Vault in Norway. It is embedded in the foundations."

"How vexing. You just had to go out of your way to make these treasures as hidden as possible, didn't you, Mr. Potter? Don't answer that," Lucius sneered when he saw the accused open his mouth. "Lastly, where is the Sword of Gryffindor?"

Where Death Eater scum can't get it.

—

"Here you go," Harry said cheerfully, tucking the sword into the Sorting Hat. He may be somewhat immune to Basilisk venom, but it could easily play merry hell with all the runes under his skin.

—

"I don't know. I didn't have it last."

"Hmph, fine. Now, the most important: where is the Elder Wand? It should be in Draco's hands," Lucius said with a nasty smile.

Oh, joy, it was finally time!

—

…just like his holly wand, it was strange storing a wand inside of himself. It felt like a conduit was opening in his veins for lack of a better way of describing it. With his wand inside his skin, he could cast while appearing wandless.

And the Elder Wand…It just felt like it was opening those conduits ever wider.

—

He cleared his throat and said as emotionlessly as he could, despite the humor he felt, "Have you checked…" he waited for Lucius to lean in, "…your butthole?"

The shocked and chagrined look on Lucius's face would live in Harry's memory forever. It even appeared as though the Death Eater scum was seriously considering checking. This was why pureblood wizards were doomed in his opinion. That and the curse he'd embedded on the Ministry floos, Big Ben, and Hogwarts to turn betrayers and charlatans into little more than squibs unless they regularly interacted with something electric.

It was actually impossible to turn a wizard into a squib directly, but if they were to slowly forget how to cast the building blocks spells and even how to hold a wand properly, then they might as well be squibs.

Oops, Draco was walking toward him with that constipated angry face he wore during ninety percent of his years at Hogwarts and another bottle of Veritaserum. It looked like it was time for another dose. His mouth was forced open once more and the potion dumped down his throat.

"Thank you, Draco. Now, let's try to wrap this up before it wears off again," Lucius said, gathering himself. "Where. Is. The. Elder. Wand?"

Fine, he'll play nice this time around.

"Destroyed. It was too much for gormless purebloods to handle."

"Bah, you wouldn't know, you talentless cretin. Now, for the last question, where did you learn your horrendous fell magicks?" the Death Eater sneered.

"From the Malfoy family library," Harry answered emotionlessly, causing a ripple of gasps to tear through the courtroom. Lucius was absolutely beside himself with fury and before he could interrupt, Harry continued, "I would often peruse the books there after shagging Narcissa Malfoy into a pleasure coma and I just happened to find an ancient tome describing the nature of Paladins there."

Lucius was now yelling incoherently at the onlookers in the courtroom, his temper completely lost.

Harry was having an absolute field day with the chaos, though. So, he spoke louder to be heard, "The sex was mediocre at best, but at the very least, after the first inch and a half she was as tight as a virgin."