Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
Again, I super appreciate every comment. I read them multiple times through especially when I lack inspiration. The support you've all given to this story is astronomical and blows my mind.
Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate it and I hope you enjoy this story. It's fairly long, so be ready for that.
And now for the press conference, but told in the different perspectives. I thought it would be a fun way to fully convey the entire day and conference than just through Harry's POV. So enjoy the switching POVs, it was fun writing them. And we see Harry do some retaliation against the traitor and finally Claim someone in Death's name.
Let's Make A Bet
"Potter had to know he would get caught," Ginny scoffed, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. She should trim it up soon, she thought absently. It helped, she discovered during the few months of her dip into espionage, to mentally take a step back from her words when she had to play this part.
"Do you really think he did it though? Killed all those muggles?" the Fourth Year Hufflepuff whispered in horrified awe. Dark hair pulled into tight braids making her face look open and innocent. "He always seemed nice, a bit of a loner, though."
"It's the loners you have to watch out for. My older sister told me," the Third Year Ravenclaw said with full authority. Her curly red hair looked ready to burst from the two pigtails it had been stuffed into.
Ginny tugged a little harder on her hair to keep her tongue. "Guess we'll find out. Heard he's holding a press conference tonight. It'll be on the Wizard Wireless."
"How'd you hear that?" The Ravenclaw asked, eyeing Ginny with suspicion. Admittedly, Ginny would be suspicious too. It was just after lunch and rumors had been running rampant.
"My brother," Ginny shrugged. Her adopted brother who had a quickly scribbled note delivered to Luna just after breakfast, but her brother nonetheless. It seemed to satisfy the Ravenclaw though. It helped to have so many brothers, Ginny thought absently.
The Hufflepuff pouted, "I don't have a Wireless."
Rolling her eyes in an over-exaggerated manner, Ginny said, "I'm sure someone in your House has a Wireless. Just get them to play it in the Common Room to share it. Aren't you Puffs all about sharing?"
"Yeah, yeah," the girl said eagerly, excitement building in her eyes. "I'll go ask Pepper. She was bragging about getting one for her birthday last month. What time is the conference?"
"Seven sharp."
"Why should we listen to it?" The Ravenclaw asked, hair more frizz than curls now that Ginny looked again. It reminded Ginny of Hermione's hair before Ginny forced the witch to start using basic hair maintenance charms in the morning. It had taken multiple years of arguing but this year Hermione had finally conceded to spending an additional ten minutes every morning to tackle her hair. Admittedly, Hermione still didn't always do it but it was progress.
"Don't you want to know what he has to say? How he will defend himself," Ginny tutted. "And I thought you Claws were the curious sort." The Ravenclaw scowled but she nodded as she turned away.
Satisfied with her work, Ginny left the little Fourth Year Hufflepuff, now alone in the hall, and turned down the corridor in the opposite direction; almost running into the group also turning the corner. Ginny saved herself by giving an amicable nod at the group of Seventh Year Hufflepuffs, three boys, and a pretty blonde girl that Ginny couldn't remember the name of. For whatever reason, Ginny stopped to listen once she heard one of the Seventh Years call out to the Fourth Year.
"How's it going, Molly?" the girl asked.
"Good," the Fourth Year, Molly, said. Ginny could picture the girl bouncing on her heels. "Ginny Weasley was just telling me and Colleen about how Potter is holding a press conference tonight at seven to answer for the Muggle Hunting. It's going to be on the Wireless too. Think we can listen to it in the Common Room?"
Ginny didn't even try to hide her grin as her plan already started working. Was this how Slytherins always felt after seeing their plans pay off? If so, she could understand the appeal.
"Don't see why we should bother tuning in to listen to his lies," one of the older years said, it was a deep voice so Ginny guessed it was one of the three boys who had passed her.
"All that Dark Magic, I bet he's got a higher body count than even Dumbledore realizes. I'm surprised he's only stuck with muggles," another of the boys said.
"We should hear what he has to say," the older girl defended. "My dad works with Potter in the Wizengamot, only ever said good things."
"Potter has too much against him, Addy. All those times we thought he was a Dark Lord and Dumbledore always hushed it up? Well guess we were right all along," the third boy spoke now and Ginny clenched her teeth hard. "And now Dumbledore realizes it too. Dumbledore can't even contain him now either."
"But his mum was a muggleborn, he was raised by muggles," the older girl, Addy, sighed. "Why would he hunt them with that kind of background?"
"Well, he did kill his uncle back in the summer. The Aurors breezed over it because it was his first kill after the Inheritance, but he obviously doesn't care much about them," the first boy replied.
"He always was an attention-seeking liar," the second boy claimed. "He'll probably cast some Dark spell on everyone listening to him. They say he could resist the Imperius as a Fourth Year on his first try. I bet he can only do that because he can cast an even stronger version."
Wand in hand, Ginny pushed off the wall, bat bogey hex on her tongue. She choked on her breath as a hand clamped over her mouth and another wrapped around her waist, yanking her behind a tapestry. "Calm down, firecracker," the low voice whispered in her ear, and even before her mind processed who the voice belonged to her body was relaxing. The hand dropped from her mouth and she sent a glare over her shoulder at Blaise. Blaise waved his wand and whispered a spell that Ginny couldn't hear despite being pressed against him. She guessed it was a privacy charm of some kind though.
"What the bloody hell are you doing!" She hissed.
"Keeping you from doing something stupid," he shot back. "You still need to keep your cover. You go hexing a bunch of Puffs for trashing Potter and that cover is blown."
"Did you hear them though?"
"Yeah, I heard them. But you just missed the part where Fawley convinced them to still listen. Merlin, you bloody Gryffindors."
"Well if they're gone now then fucking let go of me," she fumed, refusing to admit her actions might have spectacularly backfired.
Rolling his eyes, Blaise released her waist and Ginny turned properly to face him. "Do you know how Dumbledore got that news?" Blaise asked before she could continue her anger.
"No," she sighed, instantly deflating with the return of the terrifying realization that things could go wrong very quickly. She worried for the twins and if they might be implicated in the muggle hunting, she worried that Harry might get arrested, she worried that all of their work the past few months might be for nothing, she worried that Dumbledore might have actually won...
Ginny had been in a constant state of frayed nerves since she read the Prophet at breakfast. Those who had sworn loyalty to Harry looked paler than normal, even the Slytherins had looked concerned, and Ginny worried someone might talk to Dumbledore telling him about her, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna. When Luna received the scribbled note just before their first class from Dobby simply stating that a press conference would be held that night, her worry did not decrease. If anything, Ginny became more stressed and concerned.
Nerves didn't stop her and the others from spreading the word though. Luna and Ginny made sure that everyone in their Charms class knew and by lunch the majority of the school was aware of the press conference. "What if the press conference doesn't help?" she whispered, afraid to speak the words too loudly and make them true. "What if it makes things worse?"
Blaise stared at her for a long moment, his face mostly hidden by the shadows of the tapestry they still hid behind. "Let's make a bet."
"What?"
"Come on, it's Potter. Of course, things will work out." Ginny snorted and Blaise seemed to gain confidence from that and rushed on. "So let's make a bet on how he'll do it. Slytherin cunning or Gryffindor nobility? I bet Slytherin cunning. What do you say?"
Ginny smirked and appreciated his attempt to alleviate her concern and a bit impressed at how it was actually working. She could feel her competitive spirit igniting. "Gryffindor nobility all the way. He may live with the Snake of all Snakes but he lived with the Lions for far longer."
"You are on Miss Weasley," Blaise sniffed haughtily and held out his hand.
Grinning fully now, Ginny shook it firmly. "Prepare to lose Mr. Zabini."
The air filled with tense, frenzied panic, and restless chatter. Rita breathed it in deeply, she lived on this stuff. Poised in her seat in the front row, she watched the other reporters mingle and claim their seats, some looking more harried and nervous than others. She immediately identified the newbies that were desperate to cover their first major break and then the other veterans like herself, reclining easily in their wooden seats. As a game to keep her occupied during the wait, Rita began to determine which of the newbie journalists would turn in their press badge first when the stress of deadlines became too much. Rita would bet her favorite peacock feathered Quik Quotes Quill that it would be the frumpy witch sitting a row behind her, limp hair and overly large glasses. Rita wrinkled her nose in distaste. Probably a muggleborn, so overeager it was off-putting, she tutted to herself. She could probably bring the woman's entire career down in a single four hundred word column, maybe even three hundred... Pathetically easy.
It was a game Rita liked to play, ever since she was a girl. Examine the person, determine their weaknesses at first glance ― whether it was true or not was of no importance ― and then determine how long it would take to twist those weaknesses and crush them so completely. It actually made it even more fun if the weakness she chose didn't exist until after she had destroyed them. It was a bit of a thrill knowing that her influence could manipulate so many impressions and perceptions.
Rita smirked, just a little viciously. She refrained from straightening her already pristine dress robes or reaching to touch up her perfect blonde curls. She was looking forward to this press conference and not just because of the tension it was causing. Oh, how she did love tension. The uncertainty stirring and rising the longer the wait; the air fraught with a sizzle of fear and intrigue. It was delicious. Plus Potter had promised her an additional interview this coming weekend after the Wizengamot session.
Merlin, if she had known cooperating with Potter like this would provide her with so many inside scoop stories she would have done it years ago. She would have dug her nails into the boy in his First Year when he hadn't grown a full spine yet. Now she had to deal with a man who could use and manipulate her just as she could him. She'd be attracted if she actually went in for the sort of thing. But no, she far more enjoyed dishing, destroying, and diving into the love affairs of others to actually put much attention towards her own.
Of course, she knew there were secrets the Boy Wonder was still hiding. Only a fool played all their cards at once and Rita knew that Potter was no fool. However, given the current arrangement, she was content to sit back and patiently wait for his secrets to come to light. She wasn't a Slytherin for nothing. While she typically preferred flashy immediate chaos, she quite enjoyed savoring the build-up too. She could sit in wait and strike at a moment's notice.
In the meantime, she'd stack up the private interviews and gain his trust. Already she could probably turn the past four months into an entire book. But no, she would wait for that book, oh yes. She'd gather all the information, the book would be worth more with more years involved. Maybe she'd release it after Potter died a horrible death? But given his current Inheritance, Rita doubted that would happen while she was still alive to profit off of it. She pouted her perfectly glossed lips at the thought of not being able to use public sympathy to increase the book sales. Dismantling a public figure once they were dead and couldn't fight back was quite fun.
Briefly examining her pristinely sharp nails, she contented herself that when she finally did release the book she would make millions. Maybe after this nonsense war was over so she didn't need to fear Potter killing her for disrupting his plans. Rita wasn't sure if Potter would go as far as actually killing her. Two years ago she would have been confident in the negative. Now she wasn't so sure. And true Slytherin that she was, Rita held self-preservation in the highest esteem.
But when she did release everything, maybe she should make a series of it? Boyhood Potter and Unleashed Potter? Hmm...she tapped her quill on her notepad as she tried to think. Oh well, she had time to think up the attention-grabbing titles later. Because this Muggle Hunting scandal was just a blip in the road. Rita had seen hundreds of politicians come and go and some buckled under a single scandal, usually written by her. But the good ones, they turned the scandal in their favor.
Potter might be a beginner politician, but Rita had full confidence that the boy would spin this to come out on top, and the thought of being present to witness that magical manipulation made her giddy.
Aurors entered the large press room held in an off room of the Ministry of Magic. Silently they lined the walls. This happened every time a press conference was held, the Aurors were to provide security in case things got out of hand. Holding the conference in the Ministry of Magic was another subtle signal to Rita that Potter had every confidence of not being arrested tonight. Otherwise, he would have held it in Gringotts for the safety of the neutral ground.
The silence thickened and Rita swore she saw the limp haired woman quivering behind her. Journalistic poise was certainly lacking in the new breed. Rita momentarily debated writing an article just to get rid of the woman out of sheer distaste, when the doors opened again and Potter entered the room.
Oh yes, Rita smirked, this was a man who could bring the entire country to their knees and have them begging him to do so. She released her quill and it rose to eye level and began its documentation. Per Potter's orders, all Quik Quotes Quills had to dictate the facts. He refused to allow the journalists to embrace the sensationalism of the craft. Every single journalist had to sign papers to do just that before they could enter the room today. Normally Rita would be put off about this but she was accustomed to the order from her other dealings with Potter and honestly, things were just too juicy to even bother fabricating anything.
Potter dressed like a proper Lord, silken emerald robes with all three House crests on one side and his Necromancer mark embroidered on the other all in gold thread. He cut quite the figure as he took a seat on the single chair at the front of the room. He didn't have a table in front of him since he had no need for notes to read off of. It presented an honest and open image, the lack of barrier made him seem more approachable, the expensive robes of his station reminded them all of his power: politically, financially, and magically. Rita approved and wondered who coached him.
"Thank you all for agreeing to meet with me," Potter began, speaking easily to the still silent room broken only by the soft whirring of the audio recorder for the Wizarding Wireless. "I really hope that after this conference the record can be set straight on all of these claims and accusations Dumbledore has sprouted."
Rita grinned outright, her smile sharp and deadly. For once in her life, she was finding the truth far more fascinating than the fiction she typically published.
"Before we begin, I wish to ensure the integrity of this conference and for the comfort of those listening in, I would like to make a vow before proceeding." Rita's eyebrows rose and it was only decades of work in the journalism field and her years as a Slytherin that prevented her from gaping. What was Potter doing, she wondered. Was it confidence, arrogance, or something else that caused him to make such a bold move? "I, Harry James Potter-Black-Peverell, Lord to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House Potter, Lord to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House Black, and Lord to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House Peverell, do swear on my magic that everything I say during this press conference is the truth to the best of my knowledge."
A truth oath? Oh Merlin, yes, Potter certainly made things exciting. What could she get him to admit, she wondered with a shark's smile. Admittedly, he only swore to say the truth not to answer every question, she tipped her quill to that wording choice. First, though, best to start off with the topic for the actual event.
"Lord Potter," she cut in before any other journalist could gather their bearings. Rita lived off the shortcomings of others and this was just one of the settings that she thrived. "What do you have to say to Dumbledore's claims that you hunted and killed muggles?"
"Oi, shut it!" Vince shouted ear pressed close to the Wireless. Immediately a hush fell in the Slytherin Common Room. The entire House was present, minus their Head of House but Pansy knew the man would be listening to his own Wireless. Vince turned the volume up and went to claim his seat at one of the study tables. A reporter's voice sounded dictating the arrival of the Aurors followed closely by Potter's own arrival.
Pansy shifted in her spot on one of the couches. She was pressed between Tracey and Blaise with Draco on the other side of Tracey. Normally she would complain about the close quarters and compressed seating wrinkling her robes, but tonight she hardly noticed. There was limited seating given that every single student was present. However, there weren't any fights for a seat, the younger years claimed spots on the floor without complaint. Everyone's sole attention was glued to the Wireless that Draco had donated to the cause, placed on top of the grand fireplace against the wall.
Potter's voice crackled and filled the room. A truth oath! Making a vow before he even knew the questions? How could he be so stupid! Silence settled over the Wireless and in the Common Room. Pansy still couldn't get over the audacity Potter had to make such an oath without knowing what he would be forced to answer. The sheer Gryffindor stupidity was astounding. Blaise cursed quietly in Italian beside her and Draco actually had a hand messing up his hair signifying his stress.
Her heart raced, she had never expected she could care so much for the result of a press conference, especially one led by Potter but she was fully invested. Pansy knew Potter now. She actually liked him, had a crush admittedly, but even without her romantic feelings, he was just a nice guy. Privately she knew she didn't actually stand a chance but that didn't stop her from hoping and indulging in daydream fantasies. This conference could make or break the Dark though. If this turned south and Potter lost all the standing he had garnered in recent months then the Dark would be set back several steps.
"Lord Potter, what do you have to say to Dumbledore's claims that you hunt and kill muggles?" Pansy could identify Rita Skeeter's voice easily. She had gossiped with the woman enough over the years to fuel the woman's articles that it was recognizable.
"Always quick to get to the heart of the matter, eh, Rita?" Potter chuckled. "I actually have several things to say. The first being to ask Dumbledore where he found this so-called inside source. I would be very curious to know."
"He declined to release that to keep the source safe," a voice shouted out but Pansy couldn't tell who by just the voice. She wished they would announce themselves for those listening in, it was incredibly rude being left in the dark.
Pansy wondered if the other Common Rooms were as focused and united in this shared moment as hers was. Based on the results at dinner, she felt it was safe to say that every single person in the castle was tuned in to listen. Probably the majority of the entire Wizarding Britain too. Dinner had been a hurried affair by all four Houses; starting at six, as usual, students were departing for their Common Rooms by six-thirty. The Slytherins had been huddled in their seats for the past ten minutes, talking in hushed whispers. Thanks to the newly budding friendship with Potters' Gryffindors, Blaise, Draco, Vince, and Greg had snuck into the Kitchens to bring some snacks to hold people over since dinner was shorter.
Pansy couldn't eat though. The muffin Draco had handed her was now a pile of crumbs in her lap. She'd always been overly committed and passionate about things, sometimes leading to hysterics. It was embarrassing but her mother had cautioned her at a young age, the Parkinsons were prone to fits of obsession, extreme emotion, and full devotion to their infatuations, whether that be to people or causes. Even now, Pansy felt keenly aware of Draco and all of his movements. She might now view him as merely a close friend but her earlier obsession and devotion still lingered. The Parkinson's tendency to commit fully was what made them such loyal followers to the Dark Lord and Pansy knew she would continue the trend. She'd also, however, forever be a loyal follower of Potters too.
"Well I can tell you right now that I merely want to know," Potter replied pleasantly. Pansy pictured him with that crooked, disarming smile on his face. The one that made her stomach flutter. "I won't retaliate against Dumbledore for releasing the name nor will I retaliate against the source themselves for simply divulging such information. I'd swear on my magic that I speak the truth, except you know, I already did."
The murmur among the journalist just brought static across the Wireless. "Not bad, Potter," Blaise whispered so quietly that she only heard because she was right next to him. "He only said he wouldn't retaliate against them for coming forward, not that he wouldn't retaliate against them at all," Blaise smirked and made two marks on a spare piece of parchment Pansy didn't notice he was holding.
"I just want to know Dumbledore's source. If he aims to drag me through the mud with such claims, then he should be able to back up his sources. Unless, of course, he obtained this information through less than legal means. It's the only way I can believe he learned of it at all."
"So is it true? Are you hunting muggles?" Rita asked again.
Pansy held her breath. She wished she could be there in that press room to actually see Potter. Just listening was killing her. "The short version is yes."
The breath she was holding froze in her chest. She couldn't breathe.
"What is Potter doing!" Astoria Greengrass fretted, she was leaning against her older sister's legs from her place on the floor. Daphne ran a hand through her little sister's hair in a manner that was probably supposed to be soothing but Daphne looked too distracted to put much effort, clutching at Theo's arm with her spare hand.
"Hey!" Potter was shouting now over the static uproar. "I said the short version. Are you journalists or not? I thought you'd want to hear the actual truth of the matter, not just a single word answer." The pandemonium died down on the Wireless. Tracey gripped Pansy's hand, her palms sweating but Pansy doubted her palms were much drier, and squeezed her friend's hand in return. Blaise made another mark on his parchment, shaking his head. "I just swore to speak honestly. And you really don't want to ask about the long version of events?"
"You should be arrested right now. Aurors get him!" Another reporter shouted.
"Actually, according to the Governance Rules of 1506 they cannot arrest me," Potter explained. He spoke in what Pansy had dubbed his Professor Potter voice. He'd used it often over the summer teaching them Defensive spells so skillfully. "This is a Law stating that Necromancers answer to Death, we do not answer to a human government. Therefore we cannot be tried by human laws."
"Alright, what's the long version, murderer?" A journalist sneered. Pansy wanted to rake her nails over the reporter's face even though she didn't know who they were.
Potter sighed, and when he spoke he sounded so genuinely sorrowful about the story he had to tell that Pansy felt her heart break for him. "As I just explained, a Necromancer answers to Death. We are Dark Creatures by definition as soon as our Inheritance hits. I have communed with Death, twice now." Pansy swallowed hard and after a quick look around she saw the younger years looking fearful and the older years looking petrified in their intense focus on the Wireless. "During these sessions, I was instructed to practice my Inheritance. I need to learn how to control the magic I now possess. I did not go into this willingly. Still don't. I'll swear on that too. I'm sixteen years old, for Merlin's sake." There was a pause and Pansy could imagine Potter was trying to gather himself, maybe even running a hand through that frustratingly messy hair. "How many of you enjoyed taking lives at sixteen? However, I needed control so I wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone. I needed to practice so that I didn't internalize all of that magic to the point of killing myself and potentially taking others with me when I did. So, I decided to work this to the favor of society." There was a strength to his voice now, as though regaining his confidence. It all sounded so genuine and Pansy felt for him. "It turns out that while Dumbledore might have known the bare minimum he didn't research who had actually died. I decided that if I had to kill, I would only kill those who deserved it. I researched and found rapists and child abusers who had gotten out of their crimes through bribery. Those that I killed during these muggle hunting sessions were accused of heinous crimes against their fellow man. Men who had raped women and abused and molested children. I may have had to kill on Death's orders but I made sure that I at least still tried to make the world safer for it." Pansy felt the need to cheer for Potter, to congratulate him on taking the moral high ground in his actions. It was ridiculous of course, Pansy had already known all of what Potter was doing and his reasons for it. But hearing him speak now, it was incredibly moving, she blinked rapidly to dispense the water in her eyes.
"You should have never practiced. You should have killed yourself instead of embracing Dark Magic," a shrill voice screeched.
Potter was silent for a long time and Pansy wondered what was happening in that press room. "I'm sorry you feel that way," Potter finally said. "However, I feel that I can accomplish more good alive than dead. All I've ever wanted to do was to do good. I think my past record can attest to this. What's your name?"
"Br-Bridget."
"Well, Bridget. Have you ever lost anyone? A loved one, perhaps? You have? I'm sure you remember that I have as well. And soon, because I've been able to train myself, I'll be able to speak with my parents. And I hope to offer that same opportunity to others who desire closure with their dead loved ones. Tell me, how is this a bad thing? How is this corrupt and evil? Magical Affinity should have no standing on morals. I want to help everyone speak with their lost loved ones, no matter their affinity. And as I hold no judgment, I would like to hope that others will treat me with the same regard."
"Bloody hell," Blaise murmured softly and added a few more marks to his parchment.
"What are you doing?" Pansy hissed.
"Losing a bet apparently," Blaise sighed.
Frowning, Pansy directed her focus back on the Wireless. Her heartbeat wasn't as painful now but she still felt out of breath. "How can we know you speak the truth?" another reporter asked.
"Well, I could set up a meeting with Death for you if you want to ask the source," Potter said magnanimously. A few of the students snickered. "I can see you don't favor that option. I can understand that. I guess you are going to have to trust my word as a Necromancer that I work on Death's orders. And again, I swore an oath of honesty just a few minutes ago. Have you forgotten already?"
"So you are Dark!" another voice shouted.
"Oh yeah," Potter replied easily. Pansy gaped and didn't even care that her mother would have disapproved at her dangling jaw. "I honestly didn't realize it was a topic for such speculation. I thought it's been common knowledge since my Second Year."
Pansy frowned. What was Potter on about now?
"I'm sorry, Lord Potter, but Rita Skeeter claimed earlier this summer that you said you weren't Dark," a new voice said.
"Hmm, yeah I actually just said that Necromancers were simply misunderstood. If Rita still has her notes from that interview, I'm sure she will be happy to confirm this. I've never actually said that I'm not Dark. Nor have I ever said that I'm Light. People just assume without ever asking." Pansy felt her cheeks redden in second-hand shame, the chastisement easily coming through the Wireless.
"How were people to have known you were Dark at twelve-years-old, Lord Potter?" Rita asked.
"I learned I was a Parslemouth at twelve. Students at Hogwarts were certainly quick to declare I was Dark then, simply due to possessing a rare trait. I operated under the assumption that it was common knowledge since then. So being a Parselmouth and being a Necromancer, again another Dark trait...well I thought it fairly obvious."
"But you are the Leader of the Neutral Faction," a reporter stuttered.
"So? The Factions in the Wizengamot are based on political affiliations. There are no magical delineations needed to declare your political leanings."
"What about the accusations that you only took the Neutral Faction to be the Leader?"
Potter sighed before answering. "I have answered this question already, the day of my first Wizengamot session. Becoming Leader of the Neutral Faction had no role in my decision. Neutral is my political affiliation and so it is what I chose. And actually, if you want to get specific. Due to being the Lord of three Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses, I would actually outrank the other current Faction Leaders as well. So whichever Faction I chose, I'd be the Leader. So that is really of no importance."
"What about the accusations that you are meeting with and affiliating with only Dark Families?" A reporter asked.
"It just so happens that I am in the process of trying to draft new legislation and am actually meeting with Lords and Ladies from both Factions to gain support. I met with Light Faction members just yesterday just as I met with the Dark the day before."
"But you interact with mainly Dark Families, there are many witnesses to back this up," the same reporter pressed.
"As it turns out, Dark Families are the few that actually still treat me as a person," Potter replied scathingly. "They aren't afraid to shake my hand. Forgive me if I don't appreciate unjust discrimination. Again, I'm only human. We tend to make friends with those who don't treat us like monsters."
"What new legislation?" Rita asked, after the uneasy silence that followed that statement.
Draco smirked. "Potter is leading them right where he wants them," the blonde chuckled, leaning closer to Tracey and Pansy so he could be heard. "I'm a little impressed."
"I'm hesitant to bring it up so soon since it is still just in its foundation stages, but I suppose I might as well in order to clear the air." Potter sighed as if he really hadn't wanted this question to be asked. Pansy smirked. "It is my hope to start a magical primary school for children to attend before Hogwarts. This is in order to overcome the ingrained House prejudices, introduce children to the magical world at a younger age, establish a more united magical community, and provide a solid foundation in magical theory in order to allow Hogwarts to progress to a more advanced curriculum at a faster pace."
Pansy raised an eyebrow. She saw people exchanging glances and couldn't help but smirk. She was eager to know if Dumbledore would be able to twist that into a negative light.
"Can you give us any more details on this establishment?" a reporter asked eagerly. It sounded like the one who had requested the Aurors arrest him earlier. Pansy sneered, people could be so fickle.
"I'm sorry. I really can't release any more details until there are more finalized. All I can say is that I am very passionate and invested in this project and I am eager to see its completion."
"Ever the noble one, aren't you Lord Potter," Rita gushed.
"As I've said time and time again, I only want to help people. I'm just using the resources provided to me." Pansy could picture the innocent, boyish smile that always made her want to swoon.
"What about the accusations that you now follow He Who Must Not Be Named!"
Pansy went from relaxed to tense in moments. The silence hung heavily, the blood pounded in her ears, Tracey gripped her hand tighter.
"Is this more of Dumbledore's propaganda?" Potter sneered. "I can assure you that I have never and will never follow Voldemort."
"So you've not had any contact with He Who Must Not Be Named?"
Pansy forced herself to take a breath so she wouldn't faint before the interview was over.
"Of course I've been in contact with him," Potter sounded offended and Pansy didn't know if her heart could handle the stress of simply listening much longer. "I can name five encounters with him right now. In fact, when I declared he was back and that I had faced him back in my Fourth Year, I was vilified and declared a delusional liar." Pansy let out a breathless sigh and slumped into the couch a bit. "So yeah, you could say I've been in contact," Potter scoffed. "But that certainly doesn't mean I follow him."
Tracey let out a delirious giggle from beside her before slapping her free hand over her mouth.
"I swear, this interview is an emotional rollercoaster," Millicent Bulstrode muttered on the next couch over. "I don't think my heart can take much more. Potter better wrap it up soon while he's ahead."
"Lord Potter, who provided you the names for the Muggles you Hunted?" Rita asked, pulling the topic back to the start. Millicent groaned and Pansy couldn't help but agree.
"I told you already, I did my research. Did you know Muggles publish almost all court cases for the public record, it's quite easy to do a quick investigation. But how about this. When Dumbledore releases his source, I'll release mine. I actually obtained mine through legal means. Can Dumbledore say the same?"
Blaise snickered and made another mark on his parchment.
"Now, I hope this has helped clear the air in regards to a lot of rumors around me. I may have a Dark Magic affinity but I still hold true to my Gryffindor roots. My mother was a muggleborn, one of my best friends is a muggleborn. Why would I be prejudiced against them? Now, it is getting late and I don't want to keep people from their sleep. I'm willing to give more personal interviews at a later time to help the public get a fuller and better understanding of everything. I've only ever tried to be honest. Whether I'm believed is out of my control. But putting the public at ease and unafraid is always a top priority. And again, once I am capable, I'd like to help people speak with those they've lost. Thank you for your time."
The Wireless fell into static once again and Vince got up to turn it down.
"Merlin's balls that was intense," Theo muttered. "Let's hope it worked though."
"Alright everyone," Draco said, standing up to face the Common Room. "You all know the reality of the situation. I need everyone to feel out their peers over the next few days. Get an idea of the other Houses' opinions on this interview and Potter in general. Report back anything you hear. And if you can, try to sway perceptions into a positive light. But be stealthy about it. You are snakes after all. Use some cunning. Also, try to keep the focus on that primary school Potter mentioned, it will be a feel-good idea for people to focus on. Now, off to bed."
The Common Room emptied rapidly, leaving the Seventh and the Sixth Years. Despite the extra seating, no one moved to spread out. Pansy found herself taking comfort from Tracey's warm presence and steady grip on her hand. Tracey must have felt the same because she rested her head on Pansy's shoulder and Pansy lightly rested hers on top of Tracey's. It craned her neck but it was pleasant.
The quiet chatter of the people around became a lulling drone around her. Soothing in its familiarity. The smell of Tracey's strawberry shampoo filled her nose and gave her a sense of peace. Pleasantly warm from the press of people around her, Pansy succumbed to the exhaustion of her racing emotions and drifted to sleep on the Common Room couch, her friends surrounding her talking about future plans once Potter and the Dark Lord conquered the Wizarding World.
"How can you claim the boy is the next evil incarnate when he wishes to create a primary school?" Minerva scoffed. "Educating children, tsk, how dreadful."
"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Minerva," Severus commented lightly.
"Creating a school for children to interact without prejudice is merely a facade," Albus replied, his frown creating more wrinkles to his already aged face. "I'm certain the students will be instructed in Dark Magic and practices. It is a way for Potter to manipulate and sway the young minds before Hogwarts can embrace and guide them properly." Minerva scoffed and Severus refrained from doing the same, but just barely. Instead, he began mentally reciting his inventory stores and making lists of what ingredients needed to be restocked.
Albus was pacing when Severus's forearm burned. He made an exaggerated hiss of pain and clutched his arm. The Mark burning hadn't actually caused intense pain in a few months, now it was merely a dull heated sting. Severus hadn't wanted to look too deeply into the change, instead, he accepted it gratefully.
"Go, Severus," Albus said, noting his actions. "Hopefully you will have something new to report. I can't imagine Tom enjoyed this interview. His own minion refused him in public," Albus chuckled. "No, Tom most certainly won't appreciate that."
Severus again withheld from rolling his eyes. "Be careful, Severus," Minerva said softly, reaching out to grip his shoulder as he passed her. He nodded to her once before marching out of the Headmaster's Office.
He and the other Hogwarts Heads had been requested to attend the Headmaster's Office during Potters interview. However, only he and Minerva had attended. Filius and Pomona both mysteriously were unable to attend due to unforeseen illnesses. The notes the house-elf delivered had been vague and unclear. Severus definitely didn't believe that rubbish since he saw both Professors scurrying into Pomona's office with Poppy and Irma on their heels; Filius clutching a large bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey. He had been inordinately jealous that he didn't have the luxury of blowing off the Headmaster like Filius and Pomona or flying under the radar like the Hospital Wing Matron and Librarian.
He had attended under obligation to keep his role as a spy and Albus's confidant. Minerva attended as an opportunity to spit fire at Albus. It seemed the Transfiguration Professor was losing her rose-colored glasses regarding her predecessor. But it wasn't complete yet. Her years of adoration and loyalty tethers were still present but thinning with each new revelation. Admittedly, he enjoyed watching Albus brought down a peg or two and all he had to do was watch.
The three of them had listened to the radio broadcast, Albus in his grand Headmaster chair behind his overly large and cluttered desk and he and Minerva in their transfigured armchairs. Severus didn't like how the interview had twisted his emotions so completely. It was exhausting. But he felt confident that Potter would come out on top of things though. Albus had been furious from the start. The moment Potter swore a truth oath the mans' twinkle had disappeared. When Potter swerved around admitting to any affiliation to the Dark Lord and then openly admitting to being Dark before twisting that into something good, Albus choked on his lemon drop.
Breathing the fresh air as he drew nearer to the apparition line, Severus allowed a sigh at the fact that Albus hadn't spoken of any immediate plans to discredit Potter, so he had no concrete news to bring to his Master.
His Mark was starting to prickle and sting more now due to the time it took to get from the Headmaster's Office to the barrier line. Mentally, Severus cursed Albus because the man had to know the Dark Lord would summon his followers after the interview. But no, Albus demanded an audience to listen to the interview and his interpretations of what was said.
Reaching the edge of Hogwarts grounds, Severus quickly Apparated blind following the pull of his Mark. Arriving, Severus didn't bother nodding to the others appearing next to him as he strode to the front door of Slytherin Manor. Gatherings always meant an increase in the wards. The Dark Lord only permitted the Entrance Way and the Gathering Room free for access. All other rooms and hallways were blocked by intensive wards keyed only to the Dark Lord and probably Potter now since the boy lived in the Manor too and commonly walked in and out of meetings as the mood hit him.
Entering the Gathering Room, Severus saw the majority already in attendance. The magic rolling off the Dark Lord who stood statuesque on the raised stage had Severus shivering. Quietly, he slipped to the front to stand beside Lucius as a member of the Inner Circle. The Lestrange brothers, Bellatrix, Greengrass, Parkinson, Nott, Avery, and Rowle completed the front row. Yaxley now stood behind Nott instead of beside him and Severus wondered at the changeup. He'd ask Lucius later, the man always knew what was happening within the ranks.
Kneeling down, Severus breathed lightly through his mouth to keep himself from getting drunk off the magic. Being upfront brought him so much closer and it enlivened him. Severus wished to do whatever it took to please His Lord if only to remain so energized. The magic was tinged with a bitter burnt taste due to the Dark Lords' intense anger.
"We have a traitor in our midst." The words were cold and sharp; pointed and piercing. However, the volume was soft and gentle, which made the rage more apparent. "One of you sought out Dumbledore. Betrayed your family. Sought to discredit your own. Ruined all progress made. The traitor shall suffer." Mouth dry, Severus swallowed hard. Even though he knew he was innocent, knew he had never breathed a word of anything, he still felt fearful. He would be a suspect until the actual traitor was caught. It went with his mission as a spy.
"I wish to torture each of you until the truth comes out." Still kneeling, Severus spotted Lucius's blonde strands tremble slightly. "However, given that this traitor has already turned their back on their brothers and sisters, their family, their cause, the Dark itself. I do not believe it will prove fruitful."
Blood rushed past his ears, was the Dark Lord not going to torture them? Could this really be happening?
"That, however, does not mean I shall not attempt it." The laughter rang cruelly in Severus' ears. The Dark Magic coiled around each of them, electrifying and intense, bordering on painful. "None shall leave until the traitor is identified, rest assured. I'm certain you all shall wish to dispense your own displeasure of our disavowed brethren."
The silence stretched and his knee began to ache. The coiling magic began to sting with bursts of electricity, the energy the Dark Lords' magic inspired weaponized. Severus clenched his teeth to remain silent and mentally recited the steps needed to brew Verateserum. Some of the lesser Death Eaters weren't so skilled and he heard soft whimpers from behind him.
"Rise." Shakily, Severus did so. The stinging grew more painful and he wished to shift or shake off the feeling but knew it would only make the feeling worse. "Marcus Flint, Hestia Carrow, Flora Carrow, Adrian Pucey, Cassius Warrington, Graham Montague, come forward." Severus stood straight and didn't move but from his peripheral vision he saw movement from his left side and moments later the six young Death Eaters stood in the open space before the dais.
All six held themselves admirably, no pleading begs or trembling limbs; standing shoulder to shoulder. Severus braced himself for the curse he knew was coming. He didn't even know if these children, his former students, were the traitors but he knew the torture that was sure to follow. As much as he favored and desired the Dark and remained steadfast to His Lord, the torture was still something he struggled with.
"You six were given a tremendous honor. Guard my ally, participate in his quest to rid the world of despicable muggles. You two, Carrows, I did not Mark you yet I still gifted this honor. Is betrayal the method of showing your gratitude?"
The rushed 'No My Lords' stumbled over each other. Severus could hear the desperation creeping into their words, the terror of the impending pain, the panic of either being wrongly accused or of their lies unveiled.
The Dark Lord raised his wand with skeletal fingers, lipless mouth opening. Severus could almost see the curse forming at the pale tip of the yew wand when the side door burst open, loud and echoing in the tense silence. Unable to help it, Severus jolted at the intrusion.
Potter had arrived.
Almost immediately Potters' magic responded to the unleashed magic of the Dark Lord. The heavyweight pressed onto his skin, soothing the electric stings and tasting of the darkest chocolate, sweet in its bitterness. Still dressed in his silken robes with his House and Inheritance crests emblazoned proudly, his hair a mimicry of style; the teenager looked livid and smug at the same time as he strode into the Gathering Room and climbed the steps onto the dais without a hint of hesitation.
Standing proudly next to the Dark Lord, Potter looked flushed and restless. His magic responding accordingly, cloying in its intensity. Severus panted lightly, fighting the dizzying rush of being in the presence of the two most powerful Dark Wizards in history, their magic angry and feeding off each other.
Potter glanced around, noting immediately the six standing at the front. "It's not them," Potter said.
"How can you be so sure? They are the most likely. They participated in the very events that came to light." The Dark Lord didn't look at all enraged at being contradicted. In fact, it sounded like even he didn't believe they were guilty simply starting with the most logical conclusion.
Potter nodded along. "Yeah, but it's not them. I trust them."
A hissed conversation took place, rapidly switching between the two of them. Severus wished he could understand the language. He could detect no inflection of tone to determine the context of the conversation. Potter's rather expressive face contrasted the Dark Lords' expressionless complexion, it was like watching a one-sided conversation which made things more confusing. The combined magic curled and coiled around the crowd and it was both terror filling and comforting in equal waves.
The hissing came to an end and both turned to face the Death Eaters once more. This was already the most bizarre Death Eater meeting Severus had ever attended. Even more bizarre than Potter's introduction.
"Return to your positions," the Dark Lord said to the six guards who all bowed, or curtsied in the case of the Carrow twins, and departed quickly. Montague stumbling slightly in his haste.
Casually twirling his wand, Potter's eyes glittered as his gaze swept the room, lingering on each individual face. He seemed to be peering into their very souls. Could Necromancers do that? The Dark Lord conjured an elaborately ornate silver throne and sat, eyes fully focused on Potter who still stood at the front of the dais.
"Let's clear the air before we continue," Potter said, his voice clear and ringing. "Any consequences the traitor faces will be done through me. I am the one under fire and so I am the one delivering punishment. You need not fear any repercussions by Your Lord. Now, I've always believed honesty to be a rather sound policy." Potter paused, looking very calm though his jaw and eyes were hard. His magic weighed heavier, pressing harder bordering on suffocating, indicating Potter's ire. "If it was you who spoke to Dumbledore, please come forward. Whether knowingly or through bewitchment, I believe you should have your say. State your case. I have, after all, just sworn a truth oath on a live broadcast stating that the perpetrator need not fear me for simply coming forward. I will not penalize a person for owning up to their own actions."
Potter looked far too innocent. Severus had over a decade's worth of experience teaching teenagers and he had learned that the more innocent they appeared the worse the outcome. Worse, Potter was the son of the infamous Marauders and was intimately acquainted with the Weasley Twins. This whole thing was a trap. It was rather obvious to Severus now how Potter wielded compassion and truth like weapons. It was rather impressive, as loathe as he was to admit it.
Silence fell, thickening rapidly. "You don't command us, Potter!" A voice rang out, thin and reedy. Severus cringed internally but he couldn't place the voice to a name.
Potter raised an eyebrow. "Ah, but he does," the boy said with a casual head nod to the Dark Lord. "And he has already ordered my place above yours. So technically, I kind of do," Potter smirked. "But please, if you have something you wish to say to me. Do come forward." The Dark Magic shifted from suffocating weight to that cloying comfort, Severus suspected the lesser Death Eaters would succumb to the desire of that heartfelt compassion.
The crowd shifted and someone pushed past Lucius, knocking the blonde into Severus. Lucius sniffed and righted his robes briefly before returning to his stiff posture. Limp, mousy brown hair resting at the nape of the neck and dressed in what used to be high-class robes but was now subpar and wrinkled, the Death Eater stood in the space between the Death Eaters and the dais.
"We do not answer you! You are nothing but a liar and a thief. My Lord, please, you must see clarity. This boy, he is manipulating you!"
The Dark Lord fired a spell so quickly that Severus didn't even realize what was happening until the man screamed, collapsed on the floor. "You believe me so easily manipulated? You believe that I, the Dark Lord Voldemort, so corrupted?" The man on the ground screamed, shrill and wretched.
"No, no My Lord," the man sniveled through sobs. "You are all-wise and knowing. Never manipulated, never. But this boy, he is not who he says he is. He is not on the side of the Dark."
"So you think me idiotic to succumb to lies and falsities," the Dark Lord breathed, snakelike nostrils flaring and alabaster skin even more skeletal and nightmare fuelling. The man screamed more as the Dark Lord tortured the man. Severus sunk behind his Occlumency shields and counted potions ingredients.
The screaming stopped and Potter interjected before more torture could continue. "Did you speak to Dumbledore, Thomas?" The boy's voice was soft and sounded so earnest, Severus watched in surprise as the teenager sat at the edge of the stage one foot dangling, the other propping up his crossed arms where he rested his chin; green eyes focused solely on Thomas Travers.
Travers sucked in breaths, obviously in pain from the torture but he pushed himself to a standing position once again. Since he stood in the front row, Severus watched the exchange avidly and without interference. Travers sneered at Potters' childlike pose and spat directly at the boy, the spit hitting his silken robes.
"Truth will out, Potter," Travers wheezed. "My Lord needed to see the truth of your lies. I will be rewarded. Your pretty words don't fool me. You're still Dumbledore's Golden Boy, I know it. I didn't tell Dumbledore anything he didn't already know from your own mouth."
Potter stared hard at Travers, his magic becoming heavy once again. "I see. I appreciate your honesty. It's nice to know it's you who forced my hand in front of the entire Wizarding World. It's nice to know that you are the one who disrupted months of plans. I'm once again grateful to Your Lord for allowing me the honor of exacting my vengeance against your idiocy."
Severus withheld the shiver at the icy tone. He'd never heard Potter speak in such a way. Potter shot his wand out and froze Travers, sneer still etched on the man's face. But Travers wasn't fully frozen, Severus noted, instead he was dangling; a puppet under Potters control, hovering an inch above the ground.
A maddening cackle that echoed the room. Severus cringed, he'd always hated Bellatrix. Potter's eyes flashed, the green glowing as he shifted his gaze to look at Bellatrix.
"Itty Bitty Potty thinks he can do torture," Bellatrix cackled. "The Dark Lord suffers your presence but you're still the little orphan boy who can't face a fight. Couldn't even torture me at the Ministry. Weakling, you are Potty."
"Listen here, witch," Potter breathed, his voice vicious and biting. His wand still trained on Travers, holding him under control despite the change in focus. "Your days are numbered. Death has a Claim on your Life. It is only out of courtesy to Your Lord that you still stand and breathe. But rest assured, I am eagerly awaiting the day when I can take your Life in the name of my Master."
Severus felt his skin prickle and the back of his neck break out in a cold sweat. He never thought he'd feel fearful of Potter but the haunting look in his eyes and the bloodthirsty grin made Severus reevaluate everything he thought he knew.
The Dark Lord whipped his wand out sending a bone-breaking hex which the witch embraced with a delirious, painfilled cry, clutching her shattered arm. "Do not speak further Bella," the Dark Lord whispered. "Your usefulness is rapidly seeing its end."
Potter turned back to Travers whose face looked an angry red, his mouth open in a silent scream. Potter flicked his wand and Travers collapsed back on the ground, gasping for breath. "Do you feel the same, Thomas? Think that you shouldn't fear my retribution? Think me a weakling?"
Travers, idiot that he was, spat once again at Potter from his crumpled position on the ground. Potter grinned savagely; Severus averted his eyes from the sight. "Allow me to disrupt that illusion now."
Hoping off the dais, Potter took the two steps needed to stand fully over Travers. Despite his young age and shorter height, Severus had no doubts about the boy's power and superiority. Any doubts, lingering and small they might have been, vanished at the sight. This boy, no. This man would rule the world at the Dark Lords' side, Severus had full confidence in this. The rapt, hungry, attention of the Dark Lord as he watched Potter could result in no other outcome. Whether Potter realized this yet remained to be seen, but Severus knew his Lord well enough to know that he had claimed Potter as his own.
"You doubt my Necromancer Inheritance," Potter said, looking at the heap at his feet. "You doubt my strength. Congratulations on being the first I Claim in Death's name."
Potter began chanting in a language that Severus did no recognize, a language that reflected no other known language. Guttural and raw, power lacing every syllable. The Dark Magic thickened to the point that Severus thought he could almost see it, filling every crevice of the room. The light dimming, coldness gripping from the inside out. Travers began to scream. A scream Severus had never heard before, filled with pain and horror, terror and despair. The sound was one he would never forget as long as he lived. Severus had no knowledge of how long it lasted, it felt like years. Potters' chanting never ceasing; pounding at his very eardrums.
Slowly the darkness abated, Potter fell silent, and warmth trickled back through his veins. Severus knew he'd need to sleep with the fire blazing and under multiple quilts tonight just to fully rid himself of the icy chill. Blinking, Severus looked at the ground and saw the husk of Travers' corpse on the ground.
Potter spun on his heel and leaped back onto the dais. "Let this be a warning for others who doubt my Inheritance," Potter declared, voice full of authority. "Do not seek to cross me again."
The threat hung in the air, the Dark Lord hissed, the sound adding a layer to the threat whether intentional or not. Shockingly, Potter laughed. Light and joyous and at complete odds with the torturous murder he'd just committed in Death's name. Moreover, he seemed to be laughing at something the Dark Lord said. The complete change in his mood left Severus feeling uneasy and off-balance.
Potter tilted his head to face the Dark Lord, his laughter fading though his smile, cheeky and boyish, remained. No words, in Parseltongue or English, were spoken, and yet it seemed a thousand conversations swept between Potter and the Dark Lord in the course of a few seconds. Further solidifying Severus's realization that Potter would rule alongside the Dark Lord as partner and consort, it also seemed that Potter might not be so unaware as previously thought.
"Remember your loyalty to the Dark," the Dark Lord said, his magic envigorating and delightfully energized once again, mingling and twisting with the comforting warmth of Potters' magic. Severus felt his hopes swell at the sensation, yes the Dark would be victorious under the leadership of these two wizards. Instead of bitterness at the internal acknowledgment of Potters' power, Severus felt a surprising amount of pride instead. His promise to Lily a step closer to fulfillment. "Remember your loyalty to your family," the Dark Lord continued. "The Dark is more powerful than ever before and our victory is imminent. Remain faithful and devote and you shall not be lead astray. Your loyalty will be remembered in the days ahead. The time for change and progress is upon us. The Dark is rising."