Disclaimer: Dedicated to Robbins of Dudley and to all the men who carried their fine products over the top.
Part 02 of 'Halloween Echoes' Odd Ideas #132
The Plot Thickens
Harry returned to his room and packed his new things, with the exception of the weapons, into his trunk. Taking the cane, he willed the blade to appear and took several practice swings to get a better idea of the weight. Pity they hadn't had a useable axe, but his host had been more than competent with a sword. Well, compared to the majority of people in his time and place anyway.
"What would he have thought if I told him that he was probably had more experience than ninety percent of the public?" Harry mused. Probably cheered till he realized how unimpressive the statement was, the importance of having the ability to use a sword in combat had dwindled almost to nothingness in both of their worlds. It was only the soldiers in the secret war that kept it up, Harry couldn't say if that was due to greater utility or the fact that the 'generals' were a bunch of bloody fossils.
He wasn't too deep in his routine when Ron swaggered in and plopped himself onto the bed.
"How much did you lose?" Harry asked, breathing hard.
"Nothing," Ron said smugly.
"Hmwa?"
"It's all a matter of timing," Ron explained. "You saw what she did when we were playing snooker, she sucked us in by losing a bit and then made a big bet, right?"
"Yeah?"
"So what I did was quit while I was ahead," Ron said smugly. "I've now got a bit of flexibility with my OWLs, have to have an EE average."
"Sorry I doubted you, I thought you were trying to win everything back," Harry admitted.
"Win it all back?" Ron snorted. "I'm not that thick, mate, poker's all about math too. Hermione'd ha' eaten me alive."
"Speaking of Hermione, where is she?"
"In the library researching something," Ron replied. "Where do you think she is?" The boy gave a meaningful look at the blade in his best friend's hand.
"Got it in Diagon," Harry explained. "Only bought it because it was one of the few things in the store that wasn't junk."
"If you don't want it, why are you practicing with it?" Ron asked.
"I didn't say that I didn't want it, Ron. I said I only bought it because it wasn't junk. If they'd have had a better selection, I'd have grabbed something else." Harry glanced down at the blade. "For starters, there's no guard or basket to protect my hand. Better hope I don't get into a fight with someone else with a blade, eh? For another thing, it's short. What this is, is a gentleman's accessory to be whipped out as a threat in a bad situation. It's not meant for a real fight."
"So you're gonna use it as back up?"
"In the very rare circumstances when I can both carry it without making a spectacle of myself and when I can't carry other things," Harry agreed. The push daggers and the horseman's pick though, they sounded promising.
The Horseman's pick resembled nothing more than a large steel rock hammer. It was about a meter long with a steel handle and a steel ball at the bottom to counterbalance the large head.
"Wizard," Ron said, eyes gleaming. "You gonna use that one, Harry?"
"Maybe," Harry replied, attention caught by the punch daggers. "Much more likely to use these."
Both made by Robbins of Dudley during the first world war, they featured aluminum handles and wickedly sharp dagger like blades, the similarity ended there. The first punch knife looked fairly standard, a flat pointed blade with a skull shaped knuckleduster handle. The second was odd, it had a large cylindrical fist like grip with a horizontal blade protruding from the space between where one would have their index and middle fingers. They both also carried the tell tale tingle of magic items when Harry handled them, making a mental note to have Bill look them over, Harry slipped them into a pocket.
"You've got to show me how to use those things sometime, mate," Ron said enthusiastically.
"Sure, Ron," Harry agreed.
"Came up here to tell you that I'm off," Ron continued, giving a last lingering look at the weapons on the bed. "Be back after lunch tomorrow."
"See you then, Ron."
"Later, Harry."
Harry followed his friend into the hall, from there they went their separate ways; Ron down the stairs to take the floo and Harry down the hall to the Black family library to find his other best friend.
"Found some things that you might be interested in, Harry," Hermione announced, attention still fixed on her book.
"How'd you know it was me?" Harry asked, flopping into his chair.
"You're carrying so many knives that you're starting to clank," Hermione replied. "Either hide them better or put a silencing charm on them or something."
"I will, thanks." He glanced at the girl, he really did need to find something for her to carry. Ron was easy, just find something that looked dangerous and the boy would cheerfully tote it everywhere, Hermione on the other hand.
"What?" the girl demanded. "Why are you staring at me?"
"Trying to figure out a way to get you to start carrying a knife around," Harry admitted.
"Get me one and teach me to use it," Hermione said, turning her attention back to her book.
"Really?" he asked, somewhat incredulously.
"Yes," she said firmly, a bit of testiness coloring her voice.
"Huh, I thought it'd be harder than this," Harry admitted. He pulled out the punch knife with the skull shaped knuckleduster grip. "Why don't you take this one till I can source another?" he suggested.
"No," Hermione said, dismissing the knife with a glance.
"What?"
"One, you need to teach me how to use it first. Two, it has a skull. Find one that looks nicer for me," Hermione demanded.
"Looks nicer?"
"Yes," she agreed.
"This is a very good design," Harry protested.
"Are there other good designs that are also aesthetically pleasing?" Hermione demanded.
"Yes," he admitted.
"Get me one of them," she ordered.
"But . . ."
"Have you forgotten that I'm a girl, Harry Potter?" Hermione growled.
"No, but I'd thought you'd be practical enough to put function over form, Hermione Granger," he stated, trying not to grin.
"You've admitted that there are other functioning designs that have more pleasing forms," Hermione sniffed. "Function first, form second. That has function first and ugly second. I refuse to carry it."
"Are you willing to learn with it?" Harry asked, sighing.
"Of course," she agreed. She carefully marked her place and closed the book. "Why are you carrying around so many weapons, anyway?"
"I'm carrying my billhook, because I might need it. I'm carrying the ice pick because I want to enchant it, don't see it being in regular carry after that," Harry began.
"Why not?" the girl asked.
"What?"
"If you're going to take the time to enchant it, why aren't you going to carry it?"
"Because it's not much good in a fight," Harry explained. "Best thing to do with it is shove it into someone's ear, kinda hard to do that in a fight."
"I guess," she agreed. "What about the other stuff?"
"The punch knives I might add to my regular arsenal, probably will come to think of it. Wand or billhook in the right and one of them in the left could be a pretty good combination," he finished thoughtfully. "Reason I'm carrying them now, is because they feel enchanted and I want Bill to have a look the next time he's around."
"Let me see," the girl demanded. Harry pulled out the two knives and laid them on the table.
"Why didn't you tell me you had something acceptable?" Hermione demanded, dismissing the knuckleduster knife and focusing on the other.
"What?"
"How do you use it?" Hermione asked, picking up the knife with the odd cylindrical handle and horizontal blade.
"You grip it and punch with it, horizontal lets it go between ribs easier," Harry replied.
"It's a bit big for me," Hermione said, following his instructions to get the correct hold.
"I'll get you one made to your size," Harry agreed. "They're pretty easy to use, just need to learn how to punch."
"I can do that already," Hermione said, dismissing his concerns. "Get me one of these and show me how to carry it and I will."
"Punching isn't as simple as just making a fist," Harry sighed.
"I know, my father taught me. He likes to box and he also likes the thought of his daughter being able to look after herself," Hermione explained. "You didn't wonder how I was able to punch Malfoy in the face without injuring my hand?"
"Most of my knowledge on punching was from the other side until recently," Harry said dryly.
"Do you want me to go beat up Dudley for you?" she offered, half seriously. "I can't imagine he'd like the thought of getting stomped by a girl."
"No thank you," Harry replied. Not that he didn't appreciate her offer and not that he doubted she'd win, fat bastard would tire pretty quickly and be meat for anyone with even a modest fitness level.
"You don't think I'd win?" she challenged, getting her back up.
"Quite the contrary, I'm fairly sure you would," Harry assured the girl.
"Why'd you say no so fast?"
"Because if you did fight him, he might get in a lucky shot," Harry explained.
"So?"
"So if he did, I'd have to kill him," Harry said simply. "Something I'd like to avoid doing to blood relatives."
"Statements like that are exactly why you'll never fit into wizarding society, Harry," Hermione sniffed.
"Because I think girls are to be protected?"
"No, that makes you a gentleman," she said. "It's that you don't want to kill blood relatives, bet you wouldn't sleep with them either."
"No." He shuddered, sick at the thought of doing anything remotely intimate with any of the Dursleys, even so much as a hug...
"There you go, if you were a proper pureblood you'd think that a quick murder or two would get you some gold and that the family trees had as few branches as possible," Hermione giggled.
"The Weasleys . . ."
"Are considered blood traitors so they don't count. I'd bet Draco has a plan or two in his ferretty little mind on how to best get rid of daddy to gain control of the Malfoy gold with the added benefit of making his mother single."
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not speculate on how Malfoy's mind works," Harry requested.
"Alright, Harry," Hermione agreed. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to focus on?"
"Ways to disrupt magic," Harry said.
"Silk is a good insulator and Cold Iron is supposed to be good at absorbing magic," Hermione said thoughtfully.
"Something we could use to bring down wards?"
"You'd probably need a whole lot of it and you'd need a way to keep it from absorbing magic till you needed it," Hermione replied. "Wrapping it in silk might work, but that would still mean a lot of silk."
"Any way to de-magic it after it absorbs magic?" Harry asked.
Hermione gave a helpless shrug. "I read a book that made a passing mention of it a few years ago. I'm sorry, Harry, but I have no idea."
"You had enough of one to give us a lead," Harry replied, grinning wide. "Good job, Herms."
"Harry, if you ever use a diminutive like 'Herms' again, I'm going to be forced to take your billhook and do something quite unpleasant to you that will adversely effect your chances of ever becoming a daddy."
"I'm sorry, Hermione, that was quite improper of me, it will never happen again," he promised quickly.
"Thank you, Harry," she said, her good cheer returning. "Let's check to see if we can find another reference."
"You know, I think you might be spending too much time around me," Harry said thoughtfully as they walked towards the stacks.
They got in a couple hours of rather promising research. The net result was that Harry was confident that, providing they set some plans into motion, he'd be able to escape from the chain restraints the Ministry used to hold prisoners in court.
They literally ran into Bill on their way down to get something to eat that evening.
"My fault," Bill said, cutting Harry off. "I wasn't paying any attention and I was going too fast down these narrow hallways."
"Alright." Harry shrugged it off. "Glad to see you, had a couple things I was hoping you'd be willing to look at."
"Sure," Bill agreed.
Harry pulled the push knife and the punch knife out of his pocket and handed them to the cursebreaker.
"They've both got an odd set of charms on them," Bill said, turning the punch knife over in his hands. "Silencing charms, notice me not charms, concealment charms, and ever sharp charms to start with. If they're blooded or the user wills it, they imbue the user with a terrifying aura that should only affect enemies. Whoever made these was both very good and very strange. You need to channel a little magic to them to activate. I suggest pretending they're a wand and trying to cast a simple spell until you get used to the feeling and can do it at will. It should stop you clanking when you walk at any rate."
"Thanks, bill," Harry said, taking the knives back.
"Ministry might consider these dark objects, Harry," Bill cautioned.
"Are you going to tell them?"
"Of course not," Bill replied quickly.
"Neither am I," Harry said with a grin.
"Just don't get caught," Bill advised.
"I won't," Harry agreed.
They found Tonks in the kitchen rapidly switching her gaze from a cook book to a bubbling pot on the stove.
"What are we having, Tonks?" Harry asked.
"Soup," the woman replied.
"What kind?" Hermione prompted.
"I'm not sure," Tonks admitted. "I think I might have switched recipes half way through."
"Having trouble sleeping?" Harry asked sympathetically.
"We're back in the kitchen, I try to stun the last death eater and my wand doesn't work. He stuns you and my wand still doesn't work, so he pulls the knife out of his friend and stabs you with it, I try to stop him but I can't. Then he turns and starts walking towards me." Tonks shuddered. "That's usually when I wake up, but sometimes he gets close enough that I can feel his breath on my face."
"Want to know how to make those dreams disappear?" Harry asked.
"I'll try anything," Tonks agreed. "Madame Pomfrey won't let me have anymore dreamless sleep."
"Training," Harry said. "Your mind doesn't think you're ready and it's trying to give you a hint."
"Really?"
"Hell if I know, but it worked for me," Harry said cheerfully. Well, more correctly, it had worked for his host.
"Alright," Tonks agreed.
"How much experience do you have at close quarters combat?" Harry asked.
"They covered it for about half a day at the academy," Tonks replied.
"None at all, means you don't have to unlearn any bad habits," Harry continued cheerfully. "Think you can get us a few things?"
"What do you need?" Tonks replied.
"A heavy bag and a few more of these," Harry replied, pulling the knife Hermione had favored out of his pocket and putting it on the table. "Any that, that sorry excuse for a weapon shop can dredge up and see if you can source somewhere we can get them custom made."
"Alright," Tonks agreed.
"We'll have you clanking like Harry when you walk in no time," Hermione assured the older girl.
"That's just temporary," Harry said quickly.
"Whatever you say, Harry," Hermione giggled.
"Hey, Tonks, did you ever hear the story about the witch that forgot to wear panties on the day she had a lesson on how to ride a broom?" Harry asked.
"Tell that story and die, Harry Potter," Hermione growled.
"No, but I'm guessing it had a happy ending for one of the boys," Tonks shot back.
"Only one that noticed," Harry agreed. "That or the only one willing to let her know that she was putting on a show."
"For your information, I did not forget to wear panties. I spilled something on my lap during potions and I didn't have any clean underthings and I forgot that there was a flying lesson. I was sticking close to the ground when Harry decided to practice some stupid Quidditch move. Okay?!"
"You do know that you two are now married in the eyes of the wizarding world, don't you?" Tonks asked seriously.
"What?!" Hermione squeaked.
"You didn't know?" Tonks' eyebrows raised. "If a wizard sees a witch in . . . uh . . . that way, she's ruined for marriage unless he takes responsibility for his actions. I kinda just assumed that Harry was a good enough friend."
"Harry, did you know about this?" Hermione turned to see her friend turning red from suppressed laughter. "You bastard!"
"She's the one who said it and you're the one who believed it!" Harry laughed, tears streaming down his face.
"Thought it might be time to get some of my own back," Tonks sighed. "I was going after Harry."
"I can't believe you believed that, Hermione," Harry wheezed. Fending off the girl's attempts to smack him. "That's Order level gullibility there."
"Hey!" both girls exclaimed, eyes widening in rage.
"Not my fault it's true," Harry said reasonably, noting the location of the nearest exit.
"For your information, Harry Potter, the wizarding world is so screwed up that I'm prepared to believe almost anything at this point," Hermione lectured.
"Yeah and the Order . . ." Tonks' mouth worked silently. "I got nothing," she confessed. "In our defense, Hermione's right, the magic world is a messed up place. Live in it long enough and everything seems plausible."
"I know," Harry agreed, "one of the things that makes it so fun."
"So what's on the menu for today, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Same as always," Harry replied.
"Oh . . . I rather thought we'd be researching the law to help with your case," Hermione replied.
"While the Black family library has a very good section on the dark arts, it's section on law is both small and hopelessly outdated," Harry said with a grin. "Not to mention the lawyer I've retained, he'll do it so we don't have to."
"Why don't you hire researchers to do the rest of it for you?" Tonks asked.
"Because the things I'm researching are not the sorts of things I want others to know that I know," Harry answered, eyes going cross eyed. "Did that make as little sense to you as it did to me?"
"I got it," Tonks assured the boy.
They finished their breakfast and went their separate ways; Tonks off to fill Harry's order and Hermione and Harry to the library for another fun filled day of looking at dusty tomes.
Harry sighed as he squinted at the text, vowing to himself that he wasn't going to so much as look at a book for at least a month after they've managed to off the dark bastard and his covey of brain dead minions.
"THOR!" Hermione screamed, a wide grin splitting her face. "Bloody Thor!" The girl leapt to her feet and started dancing a jig.
"Do I need to get Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked, eyes locked on the girl's bouncing bosom.
"Remember when you asked me about using cold iron to disrupt ward?" Hermione asked, eyes gleaming. Not waiting for the boy to respond, she continued, "I figured out how to do it."
"You're going to summon the god of thunder?"
"No, don't be ridiculous," Hermione sniffed. "All we'd have to do is put multi ton iron rods into orbit, doesn't even matter if we use magic since they'll burn it off when the reenter the atmosphere."
"You want to drop giant iron rods from space onto death eaters?" Harry asked, trying to get a handle on the girl's train of thought.
"It'll work too, no ward will be able to deal with that much iron," Hermione giggled.
"How would we guide them?" Harry asked.
"We'd have to set up an attack pattern while they were in orbit, but that won't pose too many problems," Hermione replied.
"Okay, what about collateral damage and the fact that a multi ton chunk of anything falling out of orbit will destroy just about anything it lands on?"
"Oh." The girl drooped. "Guess we'll have to save it for places like Azkaban."
"We'd have to figure out how to do it first," Harry pointed out, chilled to the bone by the implications of their conversation. "Might also be a good idea to figure out how to prevent anyone else from doing something similar."
"He who controls the orbitals, controls the planet," Hermione agreed.
Harry raised an eyebrow at that statement.
"So I sometimes like to read science fiction to relax," Hermione admitted. "One can not live on research alone."
"Alright," Harry agreed. He was saved from having to think of a better response by the timely arrival of his favorite pink haired Auror.
"Floo for you, Harry," Tonks announced.
"For me?" Harry's brows knit together. "Better see who it is."
"Has to do with the weapons you want," Tonks said helpfully.
Tonks fell into step behind Harry as he walked down the stairs to find an unfamiliar old man peering through the flames into the sitting room.
"Didn't believe it, but you really are Harry Potter, aren't ye?" the old man in the fire said in wonder.
"I am," Harry agreed. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm the owner of the weapon shop you visited and I'm told you want to do a bit of business with me?" the old man said.
"More knives and an option on anything quality," Harry agreed. "Custom orders for smaller hands if possible."
"Should be," the old man agreed. "You know how to use those things?"
"I have an idea," Harry agreed. "Wouldn't turn down a couple pointers if they were offered by someone that had used them in sticky situations."
"That your way of asking if I went over the top in the great war?" the old man asked with a smirk.
"If you like." Harry shrugged.
"Not just no, but hell no, wizards are exempt from National Service in the United Kingdom and the Ministry encourages them not to volunteer unless it'd be more unusual if you didn't and that mostly applies to muggle born nobs of which I am the first but not the second," the old man replied. "Declared me essential and I spent the war building little gems like what you bought from my shop."
"What do you have available at the moment?"
"Couple crates I took with me when the great one ended and a couple more I acquired after the next war ended," the old man replied. "Not sure what condition it's all in, but I packed it well so it should be good."
"What do you want for it?"
"Twenty galleons for the lot, as is. Quite a bit more if you want them enchanted," the old man said.
"How bout I buy them as is and send them back for enchantments as needed?" Harry suggested.
"That'll be fine," the old man agreed.
"I want to look over it all first to confirm that it's usable before buying it," Harry continued.
"That'd also be fine," the old man agreed.
"Could you arrange something, Tonks?" Harry requested.
"Sure, Harry," the Auror agreed.
"I'll just give 'em to your girl then," the old man suggested. "You pay me a five galleon deposit upon receipt and the rest after you've confirmed that the goods are in usable condition."
"Deal," Harry agreed.
"Pleasure doing business with you, young Mister Potter," the old man said as he cut the connection.
"Likewise," Harry agreed.
"I also got the boxing bag you wanted and had it set up in the gymnasium, Harry," Tonks volunteered.
"Thank you, Tonks," Harry said. "You want to get started on it now?"
"If possible," the Auror agreed.
"Let's grab Hermione and switch into something more comfortable, shall we?"
"Wouldn't it be better to practice in what we'll be wearing?" Tonks asked. "We always changed before dueling practice, but the robes I wear on duty are much more confining."
"We'll do that too," Harry agreed. "I'm going to have to insist that we also get you a pair of duty robes tailored to let you be more mobile or charmed to be ripped off."
"I think the charms will have to wait until we get to know each other better," Tonks shot back.
"I'd assumed that you wore something under them." Harry gave the woman a speculative once over. "Finding out I'm wrong has just made me a very happy man."
"Pervert." Tonks swatted him on the arm.
"I'm a teenage boy, was there ever any doubt?"
"No, I guess there wasn't," Tonks said thoughtfully. "Come on, let's get you back to your other girl."
"Noticed that, did you?" Harry asked.
"Hard to miss it, what with the way the old lecher looked at me when he said it," Tonks replied.
"Tell me if he causes you any trouble," Harry ordered, leaving rest of the comment alone.
"I can handle him," Tonks said.
"I didn't ask if you could handle him, I told you to let me know if he causes you any trouble." Harry locked eyes with the woman. "Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" Tonks eyes went blank. "Woah . . . flashback," she whispered to herself.
"What was that last bit?" Harry asked, giving her an odd look.
"Nothing," she murmured. For a second, she'd been back in the academy facing one of the training officers. "What are you researching today?" she prompted, hoping to change the subject.
"The same thing we research every day, Tonks. Ways to take over the world!" He burst into a maniacal laughter.
"No really, what are you researching?"
"Wards at the moment," he sighed, no one ever got his references. "I suspect that Hermione may be researching long distance transportation." Something that had the potential to be very worrying.
"Want a hand after we hit the gym?"
"Sure, more the merrier," Harry agreed. Time to peel another layer off the onion and see how she reacted.
They collected Hermione, changed, and met up in the small gymnasium to start their first workout. The room looked as if it had sprung from the physical culture craze of the late Victorian era. On the walls were hung an assortment of Indian Clubs in a dozen different sizes and weights next to posters on their use. On the floor sat several kettlebells. And hung in the center of the room was a large white canvas heavy bag.
"I say, I don't believe I've had visitors around this portrait for quite some time," a gruff voice said from behind.
Harry spun around, knife appearing in his left hand and wand in his right.
"Decent reflexes," the voice said in a tone of approval. "Could be better, but that's what training is for, 'eh wot?"
Their eyes were drawn to a dusty frame leaning against the wall by the door. In it was a dark haired muscular man with a handle bar mustache dressed in a stereotypical 'strong man' outfit.
"Noticed a bit of movement around this frame and saw that someone had put up a heavy bag, dare I hope that you're planning to study the sweet science?" the portrait asked hopefully.
"Bare knuckle and dirty tricks mostly," Harry replied.
"Ah, but first you must know the gentleman's way of going about it so that you can use it as a list of things to ignore," the portrait said with a grin. "Hang me up. First thing I want you to do is take a jump rope off the hook and get warmed up."
Harry and the girls looked at each other before finally Tonks gave a little shrug and went about fulfilling the painting's request.
"We'll start you out with bare knuckle and then work in a bit of catch wrestling, I think," the painting said thoughtfully. "May also be a worthwhile idea to get you started on how to use a blade, every gentleman should know how to fence."
"Who are you?" Hermione asked.
"Major Dudley Pulleine, late of her majesty's 24th regiment of foot," the portrait replied. "I thought I told you to begin jumping rope," he snapped at Harry.
"Was waiting for the girls to finish hanging you up so they could join me," Harry replied. "Would not have been polite to start without them."
"Of course," Major Pulleine's portrait agreed. "Forgive me, boy, I hadn't realized that they were to join you."
They hung the portrait and Harry spent a very happy few minutes watching Hermione and Tonks jump rope, it was almost hypnotic the way they bounced. Sometimes, on very rare occasions, it was good to be Harry Potter.
The fact that the girls seemed equally distracted went right by him.
IIIIIIIIII
Harry awoke the next morning to a frantic metamorph shaking him violently enough to make him fearful of whiplash.
"What is it?" he groaned, batting her hands away.
"Your lawyer called, Ministry is pulling a dirty trick and you need to get dressed and to your trial right bloody now!" Tonks replied. She cast a couple charms to get him clean and his clothing changed. "Swallow this," she ordered, pressing a vial of potion into his hand.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"It'll make you sound more intelligent," Tonks replied. "Ministry has Aurors take it when they're supposed to testify. Gives 'em a bunch of ten galleon words to use rather than the four knut ones we normally get away with."
"Fine." Harry gagged at the taste. "I'm going to expect you to reciprocate when I get back," Harry said as he concealed a couple weapons.
"What?" Tonks asked dumbly.
"You got my clothes off, it's only fair that . . ."
"Shut up and bloody move!" Tonks barked. "You don't have much time."
"Fine," Harry sighed. "Incidentally, assuming they throw the book at me is there anything worse they can do than expel me?"
"Isn't that enough?" Tonks asked.
"No, I rather think it's not," Harry replied.
"They can also fine your guardians a maximum of one hundred galleons," Tonks replied. "Are you finished asking questions or to you want to stop for tea on the way to the floo?"
"I'm finished, thank you, Tonks," Harry said.
"Just bloody go," Tonks begged.
"I will, and don't worry. Even if I am found guilty, I've already got contingency plans." That said, Harry strolled down the stairs and took the floo to the Ministry. He was met by his barrister as soon as he arrived.
"Ministry wants to use veritaserum on you, I was able to get that squashed because of your age but only by suggesting a couple charms that will detect any untruths," the man said quickly. "I'll try to keep you off the stand, don't see the chances of that being better than my chances of suddenly being named true king of England, but one can hope."
"Does it compel truth or does it detect lies?" Harry asked intently.
"The second, why?"
"Just wanted to make sure," Harry said. "When's the trial start?"
"Just a couple minutes, Minister had it rescheduled at the last minute hoping you wouldn't show so they could get a default judgement against you."
"Any way we can screw him for that?"
"If we win."
"Let's get this party started," Harry said.
Harry noted Fudge's look of dismay when he walked into the court, head held high. A smirk appeared on the boy's face, the corrupt bastard might win but Harry was determined to make him work for it.
Harry turned his head and allowed his gaze to sweep over the gallery, it was filled with the press, a smirking Malfoy family, and a worried looking Tonks who had somehow managed to make it there before him. Looked as if Fudge hadn't 'forgotten' to notify everyone about the change of plans.
"Barrister, show your client to his spot," Madame Bones ordered.
An Auror stepped forward. "Case number ten fifteen twenty one, Minister verses Harry James Potter on charges of violating the statute of secrecy and of using magic while underage."
"Does the defendant wish to enter a plea at this time?" Amelia asked.
"Not guilty on both counts," Harry's lawyer replied.
"Noted," Amelia said. "I declare that this court be in session." The woman struck her gavel, invoking the ancient magic of the meeting hall.
Harry tried to remain calm as the chains wrapped around him. He did not like being confined, a sentiment the fragment his host had left behind agreed with completely.
"Objection!" Harry's barrister yelled. "Those chains are to be used only when the safety of the court is at stake. Are you suggesting that my client, a mere schoolboy, is a sufficient threat to warrant them? Further more, are you suggesting that the crimes he's accused of are serious enough to merit such inhumane treatment?"
"Sustained," Madame Bones ruled. "Get them off him."
"I'm afraid that their magic keeps them on until after the trial has completed and this honored body had reached a verdict," Fudge said with a slimy smile. "An error made by the last group I had conduct maintenance on the charms. Too bad."
"So you agree that I should have them off, but it's only a quirk of magic that's keeping them on?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Fudge agreed. "Shame, but that's how things work sometimes."
Doing his best to conceal the motion from any onlookers, Harry opened the silk pouch in his pocket and dumped the iron filings it held onto the chains. The iron absorbed enough magic to cause the enchantments on the chains to momentarily fail, at which time Harry stepped out of them, collectively shocking every witch and wizard in the room.
"Bailiff, place him under arrest!" Fudge bellowed immediately, his desire to destroy the boy overcoming his stupefaction.
"On what charge?" a clearly annoyed Madame Bones demanded, motioning for her underlings to stand down.
"Attempted escape," Fudge replied.
"You yourself agreed that he was being held illegally," Madame Bones intoned. "Someone get him a chair."
"Objection!" Fudge squealed.
"Overruled!" Amelia barked back.
It was a few minutes before a couple Aurors wheeled in a comfortable looking office chair. Minutes Fudge wasted on glaring at Madame Bones and Harry spent watching the crowd. It seemed as if his little display had paid off, judging by the look of shocked awe on the part of several reporters and the lack of smug on the Malfoys. Time to see if the gold he'd given his lawyer had been well spent.
"The court understands that your client has agreed to have a charm cast to help ascertain the truth of his words," Amelia spoke. "Is that true?"
"It is, Madame Bones," Harry's lawyer agreed.
"Bailiff, cast the spell," Amelia ordered.
Without a word, the bailiff stepped forward and cast a very complicated charm if his wand movements were anything to judge by.
"Please state your full name for the record," Madame Bones asked.
"As far as I know, it is Harry James Potter," he replied.
"As far as you know?" Amelia repeated.
"I've never seen any birth records so I can't be sure," Harry explained.
"Noted," Amelia said. "What house were you sorted into? Please reply with a falsehood."
"Hufflepuff," Harry replied.
"Let the record state that the charms have detected a lie," Amelia ordered. "In your own words, please tell us what spells you cast on the night in question and why."
"I cast no spells," Harry replied.
"Objection!" Fudge bellowed. "Ministry detectors clearly show the presence of magic at his home of record. Let the record state that the defendant lives in a muggle neighborhood."
"Minister, do you wish to take up the role of chief prosecutor?" Amelia asked, clearly annoyed.
"I believe that I would better serve the court by sitting on the panel at this time," Fudge replied quickly.
"Then I suggest you keep your mouth shut and let the prosecution do what they are paid to do," Amelia said sharply.
"Of course, Amelia," Fudge replied, teeth grinding together.
"Objection!" a fat toad like woman called out.
"Sit down!" Amelia barked. "Mr. Potter, do you wish to address the Minister's question?"
Harry glanced at his lawyer who gave a sharp nod. "There was magic cast at my former residence, but not by me."
"Please tell us, in your own words, what happened, Mr. Potter," Amelia asked.
"I was asleep and a pretty witch came into my room and woke me up," Harry grinned. "She told me that the wards were coming down and that the people bringing them down did not have my best interests at heart."
"She used those exact words?" Amelia asked.
"No, she did not," Harry replied. "But the meaning was the same if my memory is correct."
"Noted, please continue, Mr. Potter."
"She told me that we had to get out and then that the nasty fellows outside had cut off our escape route," Harry replied. "They got the wards down and between the two of us, we were able to stop them."
"Stop them how?" Amelia asked.
"I'd prefer not to say," Harry replied.
"Madame Bones, might I ask the court to clarify something for my client?" Harry's lawyer asked.
"You may," Amelia agreed.
"According to custom and tradition, anyone violating the sanctity of a wizard's wards is presumed to be hostile to the point that deadly force is approved."
"It is," Amelia agreed. "The court would go so far as to say that the use of deadly force against those breaking the wards on an inhabited dwelling is considered a public good. No charges would be pressed and a commendation from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is usually given in cases in which the residents survived and the assailants did not." Amelia turned back to Harry. "That point clarified, do you wish to reconsider your refusal to answer my last question?"
"I do, Madame Bones," Harry agreed after another nod from his lawyer.
"How did you stop them?" Amelia asked again.
"Fatally, Madame Bones," Harry replied.
"What happened after that?"
"We left my former home and went somewhere else," Harry answered. "I've been there since."
"Where did you go?"
"As far as I know, security measures around the place make me unable to tell the location to anyone that does not posses the secret, Madame Bones," Harry said respectfully. Open court was not the best place to test his theory about his otherworldly knowledge letting him circumvent the charm.
"Who did you see use magic?" Amelia asked.
"The mystery Auror," Harry replied. "I'm guessing the bad guys used magic too, but I don't remember seeing them do it."
"Noted," Amelia said. "Does the prosecution wish to ask any questions at this time?"
"We do, Madame Bones," Umbridge agreed.
"Proceed," Amelia ordered.
"Do you know the name of this so called mystery witch?" Umbridge sneered.
"I don't believe we've been formally introduced so I can honestly state that I don't." Not for sure anyway, he had no idea of what her middle name was.
"You can't tell us anything about her?" Deloris asked and then continued on before he could respond. "How do we know that she isn't just some product of your demonstrably fertile imagination?"
"She told me that she was an Auror," he volunteered.
"And you believed her?" Deloris' voice was filled with disgust and disbelief.
"Seemed plausible, what with the people in masks outside bringing down my wards," Harry agreed.
"Yet the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has no record of sending one of their own to your residence," Umbrdge said with a grin, clearly believing that she'd scored a point.
"So I thought they were more competent than the rest of the Ministry seems to be," Harry replied with a shrug. "Sorry to say that if you're right, I was wrong and you represent the average level of competence I can expect."
"Why I've never . . ."
"Maybe you should try it?" Harry suggested, eyebrows wagging.
"I motion that the accused by reprimanded for lack of respect and further motion that he be held in contempt!" Delores barked.
"Approved!" Fudge shouted, gleefully.
"Denied!" Madame Bones shouted. "And the Minister will refrain from speaking for the rest of my trial, is that understood?"
Fudge turned beet red, enraged almost beyond reason at being publicly undercut by one of his underlings. Retaining just enough sense to raise the privacy charms, he turned to the Director of Magical Law Enforcement with fire in his eyes.
"Yes, Minister?" Amelia prompted.
"Do you really want to fight me on this, Amelia?" Fudge hissed.
"I rather think that I have enough backers not to worry too much about Lucius Malfoy's empty suit," she replied. Dumbledore was going to owe her one and she'd see to it that the public remembered her as the one lone voice of reason that refused to go along with the corrupt Minister's plans to railroad an innocent boy.
"I can make life very uncomfortable for you, Amelia," Fudge threatened.
"Try me," she challenged. It also helped that she had more than enough evidence to bounce the man out of office and into a cell the second she decided to. She was waiting till the right moment to be used to the greatest possible effect, Minister Bones had a rather nice ring to it in her opinion.
"You've made a dangerous enemy today, Amelia," Fudge promised.
Madame Bones surreptitiously checked to make sure that the charms were taking down a transcript to send to the archives.
"My job is to stand between civil society and the forces of barbarism. There is nothing civil about your attempts to drive a national hero from our world out of fear that the public loves him more than they ever will you." She resisted the urge to smirk, the public would eat that up. "The weak often seek to destroy what they cannot control." She cut the privacy charms, hoping that he'd lost enough self control to throw a temper tantrum in front of everyone.
To her intense disappointment, he had not.
Wish a sigh, Madame Bones let her gaze return to the boy. "Let the records show that at no time did the charms register a falsehood from the defendant. Does the defense wish to question the accused?"
"The defense would like to ask a few questions in the interests of getting the whole story, Madame Bones," Harry's lawyer agreed.
"Proceed," Amelia ordered.
"Mr. Potter, do you believe that the individuals that attacked you intended to do you harm?"
"The first one told me to prepare to die when they kicked the door down," Harry replied. "So, yes."
"Madame Bones, please have the record show that my client would have been permitted to use magic under the circumstances no matter where he was," Harry's lawyer requested. "The fact that he was in his known place of residence only strengthens his case."
"Of course," Amelia agreed.
"Thank you, Madame Bones." The lawyer turned back to Harry. "Do you know or suspect why they intended to do you harm, Mr. Potter?"
"I presume that they were death eaters," Harry replied.
"Objection!" Fudge screamed.
"Bailiff, remove the Minister from my court," Amelia ordered, exerting every ounce of will to keep the smile off her face.
"Yes, Madame Bones," the Bailiff agreed, stunning the man and dragging him out of the room.
"Objection, you can't do that!" Umbridge said, shocked to the bone by what had happened.
"The law disagrees," Amelia said dryly. "Was there anything else?"
"The Ministry objects to the defendant's characterization of his assailants as 'death eaters' as they were all rounded up and incarcerated at the end of the last war," Umbridge said quickly, hoping to salvage the situation.
"Mr. Potter, why do you think they were death eaters?" Madame Bones asked.
"They were dressed like death eaters and I saw Voldemort get his body back a few months ago," Harry replied.
The courtroom erupted, every witch and wizard seemed to be competing over who could be the loudest.
"ORDER! I will have order in my court!" Amelia bellowed, banging her gavel.
The commotion died down and Harry's lawyer went for the kill. "Madame Bones, do the charms show any hint of a falsehood?"
"They do not," Amelia said, feeling sick. "Let the record show, that the defendant was telling the truth."
In light of Harry's testimony and without Fudge on the panel of judges, acquittal was a foregone conclusion.
Harry was met by two Aurors when he walked out of the court the one on the right looked like a troll had bred into his family line in the not too distant past, which contrasted with his shorter partner who appeared to be part goblin. On the plus side, neither one looked hostile. On the minus, they wanted something.
"Madame Bones would like a few moments of your time, Mr. Potter," the left Auror said smoothly.
"It shouldn't take long," the one on the right offered. "Bout the same amount of time it will take your lawyer to sign these papers for us out here."
"I'd better see what she wants," Harry agreed.
"Your wand, Mr. Potter?" the left Auror asked, holding out his hand.
"Is in my lawyer's attache case," Harry replied. "I turned it over to his custody before the trial and have not retrieved it yet."
"Go ahead," the Auror agreed, pointing to a side door. "She's right through there."
Harry stepped through the door and into a richly furnished room. Madame Bones was already sitting behind a desk and he walked across a thick plush carpet to get to what he presumed was to be his chair.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Potter," Amelia began.
"How could I refuse such a kind invitation?" Harry replied, taking a seat. "What can I do for you, Madame Bones?"
"I wanted to discuss the fact that you hid the name of the Auror that saved you from the court," Amelia explained. "Why?"
"I thought Madame Umbridge established that the mystery witch was not in fact an Auror?" Harry replied calmly.
"We both know that Auror Tonks was the one to come to your aid, why didn't you identify her?" Amelia asked, leaning forward to fix the boy with a glare.
"She saved my life, Madame Bones. What was I supposed to do?" Harry asked.
Amelia stared at the boy for several moments and was privately pleased that he had enough courage to keep eye contact. Perhaps she should encourage Susan's little crush? It was something to consider anyway.
"Be that as it may, Auror Tonks violated procedure by failing to file an incident report," Amelia said calmly.
"She saved my life," Harry said firmly. "Do you know what that means to me, Madame Bones? It means that I will do anything to protect her from retaliation, failing that I will do anything to avenge her."
"Is that a threat?" Amelia growled, swelling up to loom over the boy.
"A promise, Madame Bones," Harry replied.
"Good." A smile appeared on the woman's face. "The records will state that the Department received intelligence that an attempt was to be made on your life, an undercover Auror was immediately dispatched while an assault team was formed."
"And it's lucky that the Department was so quick," Harry agreed. "Shame about the assault team, but I understand how they might have been held up."
"Tell me, Mr. Potter, have you considered giving your endorsement to any candidate in the event that the Minister suddenly finds himself out of a job?" And into a cell.
"It would have to be someone capable of fighting a war against the a large group of dangerous undesirables," Harry said, looking into the woman's eyes. "One that was willing to do what needed to be done, no matter how horrible it might seem."
"You're offering it to me?" Amelia asked in shock.
"Wasn't that what you were asking?"
"I was hoping that you would agree to stay out of it," Amelia admitted. "Dumbledore will not be pleased to have you back me."
"Why not?"
"We've had several loud and public arguments," Amelia replied. "I do not approve of his hiring practices. Specifically his practice of hiring criminals and dark creatures to teach school children."
"To be fair, Hagrid is innocent and Lupin was one of the better teachers we had in Defense," Harry replied.
"Snape?" she prompted.
"Should not be permitted anywhere near children," Harry said firmly.
"I'd have been shocked to hear otherwise," Amelia laughed.
"One isn't often kindly disposed towards the man responsible for the near extermination of their family," Harry agreed coldly. "He's going to die, and I'm going to be there."
Amelia had to restrain herself from taking a step back, the certainty in his voice shocked her to the bone. It was like hearing her partner in the old days talking about another unofficial raid, it was horrifying to hear coming from a schoolboy.
"Meaning what, Mr. Potter?" she asked through suddenly dry lips.
"Meaning I hope to see him tried, convicted, and sentenced to death of course," Harry replied. "What did you think I meant, Madame Bones?"
"Nothing, Mr. Potter," she said quickly, hiding the fact that the feedback from the lie detecting spell, which was still in effect between the two, had hit hard enough to feel like a bludger. The woman dropped her plans to encourage her niece's crush, better to have the girl with someone like the last Longbottom. Boring, but safe.
"To continue our discussion," Harry spoke. "I don't see any problems with giving you my public endorsement in the unlikely event of our esteemed Minister having to step down early. I would like to speak with you about a few things, but at this time, there are very few things that would cause me to withdraw it or to back someone else."
"We'll talk," Amelia agreed. "Do you have any objections to Auror Tonks acting as a go between?"
"None at all, Madame Bones."
"I'll have her meet with you to discuss the details then," Amelia said, wanting to get away from the suddenly dangerous individual in front of her. "She'll be in touch."
"Good day, Madame Bones," Harry said, ending the conversation.
AN: I like my fics to be like a slinky going down steps, this is more like a drunk falling, or being thrown, down a flight of stairs.
Beta by dogbertcarroll
Typos by Jenifer Winterbine, Sheya
meteoricshipyards
"Harry! Drop that knife and back away!"
"What? Why, Bill?"
"I'm detecting demonic magic from it."
"Really? I just got this from the Prada store."