M. Scott Eiland
3rd July 2006, 06:06 AM
[disclaimers, et al. are listed before Chapter One: the entire story as far as it has been completed can be found at: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2778565/1/]
HARRY POTTER AND THE EXILED SLAYER
PART FOUR
Harry frowned in concern as the young woman in front of him slumped into unconsciousness, then bent down and swept her into his arms, carrying her into a nearby alley. He glanced at the unconscious Death Eaters and quickly cast a Levitation spell to bring one of them over to him before he examined the wounds of the woman he had just rescued. The arm wounds were still bleeding fairly heavily, and Harry silently thanked Madame Pomfrey for the few days of tutoring she had given him on healing spells as he quickly stopped the bleeding. He could see where the Bludgeoning Hex had caused damage to one of her knees, and another charm relieved the swelling.
The woman seemed to relax as the wounds were relieved, and Harry could see that the wounds were already healing at a rate that went far beyond anything his relatively minor spellwork had accomplished. He shook his head in disbelief-the relatively minor errand that had brought him to High Way had apparently landed him in the middle of something far bigger: something he could not have imagined only two months before as he walked into the Ministry of Magic with a crucial task to complete.
[August 2nd, 1999-The English Ministry of Magic]
"I'd like to see the Minister, please." The receptionist for the Minister of Magic was engrossed in the latest issue of The Daily Prophet, and did not look up to see who was here to visit her boss, though she registered that the speaker was young and male. After a moment, the voice returned: "If you could tell him I'm here, ma'am, I'm sure that he'd want to see me."
The receptionist smirked, amused enough to raise her eyes from the front-page article about rumored sightings of Harry Potter to react to the intruder. "Minister Scrimgeour has a waiting list of people waiting to see him that contains some of the best known names in the Wizarding World, young man. If you wish to add your name to it, and your business is urgent, you might get in to see him-in about six months. Since I doubt your news is that urgent, I would suggest that-" Her eyes moved up to meet those of the visitor, and the twenty-five year veteran of the Ministry of Magic temporarily forgot how to breathe as she blinked, then looked back down at the front page of The Daily Prophet, then back up at the dark haired young man, who was watching her with an openly amused expression. He wore a black dragonskin suit that the receptionist knew would have cost at least five thousand galleons even at discount, and the famous scar on his forehead was readily visible over the intense green eyes. The receptionist started to speak, and found that the temporary lack of oxygen made the task a Herculean one: "Mis-Pott-so-sorr-I."
There was a click from the door behind the receptionist, and Rufus Scrimgeour sighed in mild irritation as he looked out at the scene. "Matilda-go ahead and take a break for the next hour. You're not much use to me sitting there gasping like a fish. I'll activate the office wards as you go." The receptionist nodded briskly and fled after directing one last apologetic glance at Harry. Harry watched her go, still visibly amused, and it was a few seconds before he turned back to face the Minister. Scrimgeour inclined his head and gestured to the open door as he invited: "Would you care to come in, Mr. Potter?"
Harry inclined his head in response and walked into the office. He had never seen the office during the days when Cornelius Fudge had run the Ministry, and had no idea what to expect from the grim, pragmatic new leader of Wizarding Britain. He saw a medium-sized room with walls that looked as if they had been handcarved by a master craftsman, and those walls were covered with dozens of wizarding paintings and photographs. He noted that the occupants of some of the pictures were looking at him disapprovingly, and he obeyed a sudden impulse by turning and cheekishly winking at a group of them. When he turned back to the Minister, he saw a ghost of a smile on the older man's face, and he realized that-for whatever reason-his impulsive gesture had been the right thing to do. He sat down in the sinfully overstuffed visitor chair that Scrimgeour had pointed him to, and looked over at him as he said simply, "Minister Scrimgeour, I know you're a busy man, so I'll get to the point. You've expressed concerns to me that you believe I can help you with, by cooperation and communicating information in my possession-I've come to offer at least a partial solution to that problem."
Scrimgeour nodded, and Harry was surprised at the genuine-looking amusement on the man's face as he suggested, "Your friend Miss Granger helped you come up with that opening comment, right?"
Harry was tempted to make an outraged retort, but was inhibited by the fact that the Minister was, of course, correct. He shrugged casually and replied, "We both believed it would be a good idea, given the outcome of the last two times we met, that I quickly established my intentions in diplomatically appropriate language." He sighed and added, "From here on in it's just me, Minister-are you interested in what I have to say?"
"Very much so, Mr. Potter." Scrimgeour replied calmly, his eyes focused completely on the young man sitting in front of him. "Please go on."
"I'd be glad to, sir-but I'm going to have to insist on doing so in a place where the walls don't have eyes and ears." Harry stood up and walked to the fireplace, and Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow as Harry tossed in a handful of floo powder and shouted "Hogwarts!" The fire turned green, and Harry turned back to the Minister-who was still sitting: "Are you coming, sir? After a moment, Scrimgeour nodded and followed Harry through the fire.
@ @ @ @ @
They arrived in the room that Harry still called "Professor Dumbledore's Office" in his mind, though it was now Minerva McGonagall who sat behind the large desk and watched as the two wizards tumbled out of her fireplace. The Headmistress called out, "Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. . Minister Scrimgeour -may I help you with anything?"
"We should be all right, Professor McGonagall. I'll have Dobby bring us some lunch if things go long." Harry replied, glancing over her shoulder and seeing that Professor Dumbledore's portrait still seemed to be slumbering. He nodded to the Headmistress, then headed for the exit of the office, the somewhat-bemused Minister of Magic in tow behind him.
Harry led the Minister to a familiar door, then paced in front of it for a few moments. Scrimgeour was about to ask a question when Harry turned to him and said, "I'm sorry for the silent routine, sir, but I'd guess that an alarm will be raised if you're away too long from your office-and there's a lot I need to tell you, if I can."
The Minister nodded. "I understand-but my secretary is under standing orders to cancel all appointments and hold all calls whenever I should happen to be in a meeting with you, and not to under any circumstances short of the sound of Unforgivables going off in my office to interrupt the meeting without my direct request. We have all the time we need."
Harry blinked, and it was a moment before he could continue. "Well. . good, then." He pointed to the door and explained, "This is the entry door to the Room of Requirement-we used it to hold meetings of the D.A. last year, and Malfoy-Draco Malfoy. . ."
".used it to help create a means for sneaking the force of Death Eaters into Hogwarts, leading to Headmaster Dumbledore's death." Scrimgeour's tone was somber, and the look on his face respectful as he watched Harry struggling with his emotions. Harry nodded hesitantly, and the Minister added, "I'm familiar with the basic properties of the Room, Mr. Potter-why are we here?"
Harry took a moment to regain his composure, then gave the same explanation of the discoveries that he, Hermione, and Ron had made about the ability of the Room to cast contingent Obliviate spells. Scrimgeour nodded-fascinated at the powerful and unique manifestation of the work of the Four Founders-and waited for Harry to finish before asking, "If that's the case, why didn't you wait until we were in the Room to tell me this, Mr. Potter? Your leverage over me would have been increased greatly if the fact that I would not be able to reveal or act to thwart your plans was already a -fait accompli--."
"Two reasons, sir." Harry smiled-he had assumed that the Minister would ask this question. Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow in interest and waited. Harry inclined his head and began: "First, our relationship has been a bit testy up to this point-you don't have any reason to trust me, and I don't particularly trust you. Casting a spell on you without your knowledge or permission didn't strike me as a good way to change that for the better. Consider it a gesture of good faith on my part."
Scrimgeour looked at Harry for a long time after that remark, then smiled slightly and replied: "Indeed. And the second reason?"
Harry shrugged and said simply:
"The Tenfold Principle."
The Minister blinked, then bowed ever so slightly in respect as he said, "I'm impressed-most NEWT-level Charms graduates don't know about that. Do we have Miss Granger to thank for this again?"
Harry smirked, and shook his head before replying: "She would have found it eventually, but I've been spending more time than her looking for magical principles that effectively multiply magical power. When you've been up against the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world, you look for ways to increase your own power to compensate-and I found a detailed explanation of The Tenfold Principle in a book in the Restricted Section a few weeks back." He looked at the Minister and added, "You are a powerful wizard, with access to resources that I cannot be fully aware of-it is quite possible that you may be warded against Obliviate spells-even ones as powerful as the Room can cast. But-according to the Tenfold Principle-if you enter the Room knowing what the effects will be, of your own free will without any compulsion whatsoever, then the force of the spell on you will increase by an order of magnitude, making it extremely unlikely that any wards or protections will be adequate to prevent it from operating on you." He paused, then concluded, "Of course, if you decline to enter the Room this meeting will end, and I will escort you back to your office, where things will continue between us as before. It's your choice, Minister."
Scrimgeour was silent for a moment, then emitted a great bark of laughter that reminded Harry momentarily of Sirius, in happier times. The Minister studied Harry for a moment, then said quietly, "Mr. Potter, you have succeeded in vindicating my judgment, if not my reasoning. I -do- want you to be on my side, and from what I've seen in the last half hour, it'll be for reasons far less superficial than the ones I was contemplating the prior times we spoke." Scrimgeour locked eyes with Harry, inclined his head at the door, and said simply:
"Let's get on with it, then."
@@@@@
The last memory faded into black, and Harry turned to the Minister-who had been silent during the entire presentation. Scrimgeour looked lost in thought, and Harry waited for a few moments before calling out quietly: "Are you all right, Minister?"
Scrimgeour turned to Harry and laughed briefly-the sound of it was hollow. Harry's eyes narrowed in concern, and he was about to inquire again when the Minister shook his head sadly and said, "It's not every day that you find out that-in spite of your best intentions-you've been behaving like a fool."
Harry's first impulse was to say something comforting, but he realized that the Minister was working through something, and that it would be better to let him finish. After a moment, Scrimgeour blinked, and said quietly, "Mr. Potter. . .I assumed that Dumbledore was involved in some sort of elaborate conflict with He-Who-" Harry frowned, and Scrimgeour hesitated for a moment before inclining his head and amending, "All right, then-with Voldemort. Clearly, the Ministry's conduct had given him little reason to confide in it, even under new leadership-but it was my obligation to find out. The stubbornness of one man-Cornelius Fudge-had allowed Voldemort a whole year to build strength and gain followers without interference, and I couldn't just stand by and take the risk that another man-even a great man like Dumbledore-could do the same thing without at least trying to prevent it. Does that make any sense to you?"
Harry nodded, slowly and reluctantly, and Scrimgeour smiled slightly and continued, "I've never really known what to make of you, Mr. Potter. The circumstances of your survival sixteen years ago were a mystery to me before I entered this room, and even the explanation that Dumbledore gave you strikes me as remarkable almost beyond belief. The fact that you have survived confrontations with Voldemort on repeated occasions since then-even allowing for the substantial assistance you received for some of those occasions-has caused me to believe that you must be charmed in some way. . .even a barrel of Felix Felicis in your bedroom wouldn't have been enough to explain some of your escapes. Whether it was due to you actually being some sort of Chosen One or just blind luck beyond the ability of science or magic to explain, it was inspiring the public-giving them some sort of hope. I didn't know that you were actually going to be able to fight Voldemort-I just knew that I needed to use every last resource I had to oppose him, and all I saw was a symbol, not the man. For what it's worth-I'm sorry. We haven't done right by you-none of us have."
Harry paused for a long moment, then shrugged. "Not much point in dwelling on it now, sir. I wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't willing to set aside the past in exchange for cooperation." The Minister nodded, looking relieved, and Harry smiled slightly in response as he asked, "So what do we do now?"
"Dumbledore was correct to want to keep this information confined to a very small number of people-if Voldemort gets the slightest whiff of what you're trying to do, he'll go out in force, reclaim the Horcruxes, and hide them behind a Fidelius Charm or something even more foolproof." Scrimgeour's tone was grim, and Harry listened carefully as the Minister continued, "Which means my first impulse-to send out a team of experts with each of you to help find the Horcruxes and protect you at the same time-would be worse than useless, though it would have the benefit of keeping you alive."
Harry shook his head. "I own a house protected by Fidelius, and if I wanted to be safe I could hide there the next fifty years. I'm not doing that, and my friends won't do it, either-though I wish they would." Scrimgeour gave Harry a sympathetic look, but Harry ignored it and concluded, "We'll just have to do the best we can to keep safe without an armed escort, sir."
Scrimgeour nodded, then gave Harry an odd look as he continued, "I'll have to find other ways to assist you. . .unfortunately, one of my first duties will be to completely Obliviate myself of the memories of what you've told me within the Room of Requirement."
Harry stared in shocked silence at the Minister for fully five seconds before managing to utter a strangled-sounding question: "You're going to WHAT?"
"Your safety depends on it, Mr. Potter." Through his shock and confusion, Harry noticed that the Minister suddenly looked very tired, as if he had been carrying a great weight for many miles, and was on the verge of collapse. The realization was enough to calm him down somewhat, and Scrimgeour noticed the reaction and continued, "Mr. Potter-my job may look privileged and glamorous, but it does make me a rather obvious target for Voldemort. Fudge was serving Voldemort's purposes by being passive-I am not. He'd like to see me dead, and if he can capture me first, knowing that we have mended fences and that you might have shared secrets with me, he'll wring me dry of useful knowledge before ending me. Well, he'll do both regardless, but I can't risk having that fact betray you too-your role in ending this madness is too important."
"But. . .you're going to do it to yourself? Why not just let the Room do it?" Harry was cringing inside-to him the idea of self-Obliviating was too much like what Lockhart had done to himself, or like a Muggle doctor performing brain surgery on himself.
"Because, for one thing, I don't intend to interfere with your actions-so the conditions of the Room's Obliviation spell won't trigger." Harry nodded reluctantly in agreement, and Scrimgeour added, "Also-as you've noted, the Tenfold Rule along with my knowledge of my own mind will allow me to do a very thorough job of Obliviation. Self-Obliviation is a Master's subject at the Auror Academy, and I got top marks. Voldemort won't even get a ripple of what you're up to through me, or of the Prophecy."
Harry was utterly frustrated, all the more so because the Minister was making sense, and after a moment he burst out angrily: "You mean that's it? It's too dangerous for you to know what's going on, so we go back to being useless to each other? After all of this?"
"Calm yourself, Harry-that's not what I'm saying at all." Harry noticed that the Minister had called him by his first name for the first time since Harry had come to his office earlier that day, and also that his tone in doing so was no longer of the important man talking down to a schoolboy, but instead sounded like Remus might if he were trying to focus Harry's attention on something important. He took a deep breath and went silent, and the Minister smiled at him as he elaborated, "It's time I showed you some of the advantages of age and experience, Harry." He pulled out his wand and conjured a table with two chairs and a substantial amount of parchment and ink, and the two men sat down before Scrimgeour continued, "Now, we are going to discuss basic issues, and come up with some useful courses of action-after which we are going to send a message to someone not in the know about all of this."
Harry listened as the Minister continued, and smiled as he realized that the day had not been wasted after all.
@@@@@
Rufus Scrimgeour blinked, then looked at the young man in front of him in mild confusion: "Mr. Potter, were we going to begin with your presentation?"
Harry hesitated for a moment before replying: "We already finished it, sir."
"We have?" Scrimgeour took out his pocket watch-which showed that several hours had passed-and frowned. "I suppose we did. Am I to assume that the Room Obliviated me?"
Harry shook his head. "No, Minister-you did that to yourself."
"I did?" The Minister of Magic was silent for a moment as he searched his thoughts, then smirked as he commented, "And a good job I did of it, too-I can't remember anything from after I entered the Room." He frowned, then commented, "If I decided I needed to self-Obliviate, then you probably have-"
"-a letter to you from yourself, yes. Here it is, sir." Harry handed Scrimgeour the long scroll of parchment, then gestured to two nearby comfortable chairs. The Minister sat down in one and Harry sat in the other as Scrimgeour noted the seal on the scroll-it was his personal seal, and it glowed with a power that could only be explained by his having put it on the scroll in a fully voluntary and knowing manner. His interest piqued, he broke the seal and opened the scroll, stopping only a moment before beginning to read the contents aloud:
Dear Rufus,
As always when this sort of thing happens, you're probably a bit perplexed. Believe me, you're better off that way than with the information you've extracted from your brain. The good news is that Mr. Potter has agreed to help the Ministry in exchange for clandestine assistance with his own activities, which must remain utterly secret for reasons that you are in full agreement with. To that end, you and Mr. Potter have agreed to the following:
1.. Mr. Potter will make periodic appearances at the Ministry of Magic and at Ministry functions, and will urge the Wizarding community to continue to resist Lord Voldemort. On these occasions, he will have an escort of Aurors handpicked by Mr. Potter himself based on the advice of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, and Alastor Moody. Also, on these occasions Mr. Potter will not be asked to produce his wand or disarm.
2.. At Mr. Potter's request-and with her consent-Nymphadora Tonks is to be placed on indefinite detached duty with Mr. Potter. You will work with the Chief Auror to come up with a suitable cover story to explain her absence during this time, and will not under any circumstances short of an international incident question Ms. Tonks as to her activities during this time.
3.. Stan Shunpike will be released in two weeks time, as he has established his lack of connection with the Death Eaters to your satisfaction, and you have concluded that a change of approach is in order. You will arrange for suitable monetary compensation for Mr. Shunpike and anyone else found to have been detained for an extended period of time without having been shown to be a Death Eater or otherwise connected to Voldemort, and will concentrate on more effective and efficient ways for identifying Death Eaters.
4.. Mr. Potter, as well as his friends Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, are to have complete and unrestricted access to the Ministry Libraries, and will be granted access to those libraries through your private entrances, so that they may access and remove works without being monitored by any of the library personnel. Furthermore, you will issue all three of them letters to deal with the unlikely event that they might be detected removing said works, making it clear that they act with the full authority of the Ministry. Under no circumstances should you inquire as to which works they are consulting, and anyone who obtains knowledge of that list must be Obliviated immediately.
5.. You have granted Mr. Potter the power and authority of a Special Operative of the Ministry, and you will make the appropriate notation of that appointment when you return to your office. You have already given him your signet ring and enchanted it appropriately to allow him to act in that role. His assumed name while acting as Special Operative will be Connor Galleon.
Scrimgeour blinked. Special Operatives were as rare as hen's teeth, even in dangerous times such as these, as Wizarding nations had agreed among themselves not to grant too many individuals such power-bad choices in choosing Special Operatives had come close to causing wars on several occasions. A Special Operative was given what Muggles would call "diplomatic immunity"-a Wizarding nation who captured one was bound by treaty to turn him or her over to his home Ministry without otherwise harming him: failure to do so was considered a grave diplomatic offense. He was exempt from laws restricting International Apparation, and was permitted to use intercontinental Floos without showing identification at either end other than the symbol of his home Ministry. Finally, a Special Operative was authorized to use spells in the same manner that an Auror would, including Obliviation spells and use of the Unforgivables for self-defense and in cases of dire need, answering to the Ministry if any abuse was involved for the latter. It was unheard of for anyone but a senior Ministry official or a topline Auror (Mad Eye Moody had been a Special Operative in his younger days before age and injuries began to catch up with him) to receive such an appointment-it was unthinkable that a seventeen year old wizard who had yet to take his NEWTs would have that power thrust upon him. Scrimgeour looked up from the letter and studied Harry for a moment before asking quietly: "I apologize, Mr. Potter. . .but could you show me--?"
Harry raised his left hand, and formed a fist with the flat side pointing towards the Minister. The signet ring with the symbol of the British Ministry of Magic glistened there-the charms on it would have incapacitated Voldemort himself if he donned the ring without permission or extensive preparatory spell work. Scrimgeour nodded, then asked, "Mr. Potter-you've got to be the most recognizable person in the Wizarding world right now. How do you expect to be able to maintain an alternate identity?"
Harry grinned and replied, "I showed you how, sir-you decided that it would be better if you didn't keep that knowledge. Suffice it to say that if you see 'Connor Galleon,' he won't remind you of Harry Potter."
Scrimgeour watched Harry for a moment longer, sighed, then went back to the letter:
6.. You have been presented with convincing evidence that Dolores Umbridge participated in abuse of Hogwarts students that exceeded any orders or mandate given to her by Cornelius Fudge or any other official of the Ministry. You will immediately reassign her to new duties; specifically, to a post as Sub-Consul to the Wizarding State of Siberia.
Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought you would be quite that vindictive, Mr. Potter."
"Actually, that was you again, sir." Harry sounded darkly amused, and the Minister shivered a little as the young wizard added, "I wanted to send her back to the centaurs."
Scrimgeour shuddered, then went back to the letter.
7.. In the event that Mr. Potter is killed, you will make a public announcement that the Prophecy destroyed in the Ministry was as follows: --He who survived the unsurvivable will face the Dark One time and again and survive until he reaches his majority. With his fall at the hands of utmost evil, ten thousand champions will arise and strike down darkness, ushering in a new age of light-
Scrimgeour stared at Harry. "Is that true?"
Harry smirked. "From what you've told me, you can convince yourself that it is with some rituals and a little more Obliviation." He sobered, then added, "If that snake-faced bastard gets you, at least you'll have the satisfaction of knowing that what he'll get out of your mind will scare him to death."
Scrimgeour felt a chill, and looked back down at the letter to dispel it:
8.. Keep the pressure on Voldemort. It is crucial that he be thoroughly occupied with the forces of the Ministry-to allow other things that must take place for Voldemort to be defeated to occur without interference.
Scrimgeour nodded to himself, and noticed that Harry looked uncomfortable. Though his Obliviation had been thorough, he was starting to strongly suspect why he had given Harry that appointment. He looked directly at Harry and stated bluntly, "You realize, of course, that a lot of Aurors are likely to die carrying out this order."
Harry paled slightly, but his expression remained calm. "Yes, Minister-I know that."
The Minister nodded, then looked down at the last part of the letter. His eyes widened, and he read the last part silently:
I made him step back when I wrote this part. . .he's a good man, Rufus-and he cares about this world: more than he probably should, given what his life has been up to now. Advise him-even yank him away from the precipice if the occasion calls for it-but believe in him. If you're fortunate, you'll live long enough to find out why you should.
Good fortune,
Rufus Scrimgeour
British Minister of Magic
Scrimgeour looked down at the letter for a moment longer, then looked back up at Harry and smiled slightly before standing up. He inclined his head at the door and suggested, "Let's get going, then. I have orders to issue, and you apparently have something to do that I'm not meant to know about." Harry nodded, and the Minister extended his hand to Harry. The younger man shook it firmly, and Scrimgeour added in a whisper:
"Godspeed, Harry."
@ @ @ @ @
Harry watched the Minister disappear into the green fire and closed his eyes. He was feeling completely overwhelmed, and the loss of the Minister as an ally fully in the know-even with the assistance that he was willing to provide following his self-Obliviation-was very painful to him. Professor McGonagall had left the office, and there was no reason to stay longer. He was reaching for a handful of floo powder when he heard a very familiar voice:
"Harry-if I may have a moment of your time, I believe I can continue to assist in spite of circumstances."
Harry felt a surge of joy, which was immediately doused by reality, and he was thoroughly ambivalent when he turned to face the now-fully alert portrait of Albus Dumbledore. He forced a smile and said simply, "I wasn't sure when you'd wake up, sir."
"There is always a time involved in transition when a post-mortem portrait is activated, Harry. It is the price that is paid for the degree of sentience and detailed memories that the portrait receives." Harry forced himself to listen and to meet the eyes of the portrait-which did not twinkle. The portrait sighed and continued gently, "Harry-after what happened last year I feel the need to make a matter clear immediately. My death should not trouble your conscience-I insured that you could not interfere, and I was aware of the risks involved in my temporary weakness from our expedition. I am enjoying the next great adventure, and have left this part of myself behind to advise you and others to the best of my ability-within limits, of course."
Harry nodded, slowly and with difficulty, before replying: "Thank you, Professor. Is there anything you would like to know?"
Dumbledore nodded, and leaned forward eagerly as he asked, "What of the Horcrux, Harry-have you managed to destroy it?" Harry paled, and Dumbledore's expression twisted with sudden concern. "Was someone hurt by the destruction?"
Harry swallowed hard, and told him of how he had discovered the false locket with the note. Dumbledore listened without interrupting, and nodded as Harry finished before commenting, "There was no way you could have known, Harry-you were distracted by my condition, and I was far too disoriented to note that the amulet was a fake. In any event, this is an important development-we know that at least one other person was privy to Voldemort's secret, and we also have to determine whether that amulet has actually been destroyed-probably by determining who R.A.B. is. That may be a formidable task-though I would suggest starting with a list of deceased known and accused Death Eaters, as they would have been the individuals most likely to be in a position to both have the knowledge and the opportunity to betray Voldemort."
Harry frowned. He had not been concentrating on uncovering the identity of R.A.B. during the weeks after his departure, but it was definitely going back to near the top of his list. "I'll pass that advice on to Hermione, sir. Was there anything else you wanted to know?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "Nothing specific, Harry-I'd just like to be kept up to date as much is as practical. Given the research and other investigations you are involved with, I might recognize a name, a place, or a spell that you are not familiar with, and can assist in that manner." Harry nodded, and Dumbledore sighed and looked sadly at the young wizard as he said, "Harry-I do have one piece of advice for you above all others. Do not let a desire for vengeance cloud your reasoning and interfere with your ultimate goals. You are undoubtedly inclined to seek out certain individuals for their roles in the deaths of persons you cared for-I can only urge you to put aside that impulse, and to continue on your mission. In making it possible to destroy Voldemort and then carrying that destruction out, you will achieve the greatest possible vengeance on those who deserve it. If you must defend yourself against those persons in carrying out your mission, then by all means do so: but please, Harry-do not seek them out."
Harry scowled, and was silent for a moment before beginning: "Professor-about Snape--?"
"Harry-it is too soon for us to discuss that matter." Dumbledore's voice was soft, and filled with regret. Harry watched , more than a little angry, as Dumbledore looked to the side and continued, "Severus has made his choices, and he must live with the consequences, as must we all. Again, I must urge you not to seek him out for purposes of revenge-in some ways, he poses a more formidable risk to you than Voldemort himself: he knows you better, and is sadly adept at provoking you. The time may come when you are forced to fight for your life against him, and it will be better if it happens after you are more powerful, better trained, and have gained more perspective on the overall situation than you possess at the moment. Am I making sense, Harry?"
"I suppose so, sir." Harry was not completely convinced, but had to admit to himself that Snape had held him off without much apparent effort-he needed to improve his abilities before he faced the treacherous Potions Master again.
Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Excellent, Harry. Now, before you go-an old friend wanted to see you again." A flash of fire burst out of nowhere, and a phoenix appeared on the corner of the Headmistress' desk.
"Fawkes!" Harry cried out, stepping forward to stroke the feathers of the magical bird. Fawkes let out a low, pleased cry, and Harry continued, "I thought. . .I thought you were gone for good after the Professor died."
"He was-at least in the sense that Hogwarts is no longer his home and his chosen companion is no longer alive." Dumbledore's tone was somber and respectful, and Harry went silent, still shocked at the sudden appearance of the creature who had helped save his life on more than one occasion. "He has returned because he still loves this world, and would like to choose a new companion to allow him to continue to live within it and help it survive."
Harry blinked, and quickly made the connection. "Me? Fawkes wants to live with me?" The phoenix looked directly at Harry and seemed to nod slightly as he let out an exuberant trill. Harry felt a moment of excitement, then realized something that caused his mood to plummet. Fawkes reached out a wing to nudge Harry, and Harry turned to the phoenix and explained, "I'd love it if you lived with me-but I'll be constantly traveling now. I'm going to disguise Hedwig and use her for messages. . .but you always seemed so comfortable here with Professor Dumbledore, having someone with you all the time. I can't give that to you-not now."
Fawkes took flight and landed on Harry's right shoulder before giving him a friendly nudge with his head. Dumbledore laughed and commented, "It seems that Fawkes is willing to live with an absentee companion, Harry." Harry laughed involuntarily and looked up at Fawkes as Dumbledore continued, "I'd suggest putting his perch at 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry-Dobby would undoubtedly be more than happy to make sure Fawkes is adequately cared for. He can travel freely on his own, and-as was the case in the Chamber of Secrets-he will be able to come to the aid of those who have pledged their loyalty to you in time of utmost need." Dumbledore looked sadly at Fawkes and concluded, "Fawkes was at my side for over a hundred years, Harry-I hope that you two share an even longer connection."
Harry blinked, and felt tears come as he replied, "Thank you, Professor. I have to go-"
"Indeed. Your life will have little time for moments like this, Harry-I hope that you can derive some enjoyment for the ones that do come." Professor Dumbledore inclined his head to Harry. "Until we meet again." The eyes of the portrait closed, and Fawkes let out a trill and vanished in a flash of fire. Harry gave the portrait one last thoughtful look before reaching for the Floo Powder.
@ @ @ @ @
Harry tumbled out of the Floo at 12 Grimmauld Place, which now terminated in Harry's private office. He saw Remus and Tonks staring at Fawkes, who was perched on the corner of a low bookcase and watching them. Harry called out, "Hello, Fawkes." The phoenix let out a trill of greeting, and Harry turned to his friends and asked, "What's the matter-haven't you ever seen a phoenix before?"
Remus glared mildly at Harry before replying, "We've been worried-your meeting with the Minister took far longer than we might have expected."
Harry grinned wickedly, and responded much as his father or Sirius might have: "I'm sure you two managed to find a way to pass the hours, Moony."
Remus blushed crimson, and Tonks began to laugh. Harry smiled involuntarily-the change in Tonks since she had broken down Remus' sales resistance had been heartening; if anything, she was more cheerful and unconcerned with propriety than she had ever been. She looked over at Harry with a lazy smile and replied, "Yes-but he's a gentleman and won't tell tales out of school, Harry. Now-how about telling us what happened?"
Harry complied with the request-leaving out any mention of the Prophecy or Horcruxes-and concluded by repeating the provisions of the letter that Scrimgeour had written before Obliviating himself. Tonks whistled when he finished: "He made you a Special Operative? I almost thought they were myths-there can't be more than a couple of others in the entire country, and I've never met one." Harry displayed the signet ring, and Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "Harry-I've been all right with you keeping us in the dark on this, for the same reasons that the Minister Obliviated himself, but I don't mind telling you that the fact that he was willing to give you that kind of power scares me."
"And me as well, Harry." Remus sounded disturbed, and Harry waited for him to continue: "The Minister was right, Harry-you're about as likely to go unrecognized as the President of the United States would be walking down the street in Muggle America. How are you going to pretend to be 'Connor Galleon'?"
Harry blinked, then turned to Tonks and asked, "You didn't tell him?"
Tonks raised an eyebrow. "I'm a trained Auror, Harry-we don't go around spilling secrets even when we've got other things on our minds."
Harry smiled apologetically, then turned to Remus-removing his glasses as he did so. His features blurred, and the scar on his forehead vanished. His hair lengthened until it looked like a dark version of Lucius Malfoy's notable mane. His height increased significantly as a Switching Spell triggered, causing the black dragonskin suit to vanish and be replaced with a normal dress robe. His nose lengthened slightly, his cheekbones grew more heightened, and his lips thinned. When he had finished, only the green eyes even remotely suggested that the person standing in front of the astounded werewolf was Harry Potter. Tonks-who had been watching the process with a pleased smile--frowned and asked, "No luck in getting the eyes to change, huh?"
Harry shook his head. "No-and I've been trying in the mirror for a week now since our last session together." He noticed the resigned expression on Tonks' face, and he commented: "You don't look surprised."
Tonks shook her head. "I was hoping that I was wrong, and it was something that you'd work through with practice." Harry frowned, puzzled, and Tonks hastened to explain: "Metamorphmagi always have one feature that they are unable to change, no matter how hard they try or practice to overcome it. Obviously, the more prominent of a feature that it is, the more it hampers the ability to create an effective disguise." She studied Harry and suggested, "We're just lucky that it wasn't the scar. . .oh well, at least it's not stopping you from correcting your eyesight by moving the muscles around-without glasses, people will be less likely to think it's you even if they're suspicious. Other than that, you're just going to have to use Muggle sunglasses, or maybe colored contact lenses if it's dark."
Remus-wisely deciding to put aside the question of how long Harry had known he was a Metamorphmagus-frowned and turned to Tonks: "What feature can't you change? I've never noticed any part that you couldn't change."
Tonks looked up and met Remus' gaze as she wrapped her arms around his neck and replied, "I'll show you later if you're good-but business before fun, love." Remus blushed again, and Harry suppressed a snicker as Tonks turned back to Harry and ordered briskly, "All right, then-let's work on a training schedule for the next two weeks. If you're going to insist on running around the world as a Special Operative, I'm going to make sure you know every nasty Auror-approved trick I can teach you before you head out."
Harry nodded, but Remus spoke up again: "Wait a minute-you agreed to make public appearances for the Ministry, and by implication a substantial number of them. How are you going to do that and run around the world as Connor Galleon at the same time?"
Harry smirked and inclined his head at Tonks. Remus turned, and jumped back as he realized that he was being embraced by. . .Harry Potter. "Harry" quirked an eyebrow at Remus and asked in Harry's voice: "What's the matter? Don't you love me any more?"
After the events of the day, this image was too much for Harry, who sank to the floor laughing uncontrollably, as Fawkes sang contentedly and Remus glared at the woman he loved as she stood there laughing, in the guise of the most famous figure in the Wizarding world.
@@@@@
After that last feverish two weeks of training, Harry had immediately departed, following leads that Hermione and Ron uncovered as to where information about Hufflepuff's Cup or any unknown artifacts of Godric Gryffindor might be located. In his guise as Connor Galleon, he had spoken to more than a few shady characters, and spent a substantial amount of time and money in acquiring obscure texts that existed in no libraries. As October began, he had not developed any solid leads, though he was getting a good idea of how wide Voldemort's influence had stretched, as he had avoided encounters with Death Eaters by only narrow margins in Tokyo, Nairobi, and Miami before his latest expedition had brought him to the Wizarding business center of High Way in Southern California. The grouping of four Death Eaters openly trying to capture or kill the young woman had been too much to ignore, and watching that young woman in action against the deadly Dark Wizards had caused him to come to a stunning realization:
She was a Slayer.
He studied the face of the young woman, and his eyes narrowed in puzzlement. He dismissed the thought and laid her gently down against a wall, then cast a levitation spell to bring one of the unconscious Death Eaters over to him. He put the man down against the same wall the young woman was sitting, then pulled a small box out of his pocket. He placed a hand of each of his charges against the box, then put his own hand on it as he called out: "Refuge."
Without a pause, the three persons disappeared from the alley-leaving three unconscious Death Eaters for the Magical Law Enforcement officers to discover when they arrived thirty seconds later.
. .to be continued
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HARRY POTTER AND THE EXILED SLAYER
PART FOUR
Harry frowned in concern as the young woman in front of him slumped into unconsciousness, then bent down and swept her into his arms, carrying her into a nearby alley. He glanced at the unconscious Death Eaters and quickly cast a Levitation spell to bring one of them over to him before he examined the wounds of the woman he had just rescued. The arm wounds were still bleeding fairly heavily, and Harry silently thanked Madame Pomfrey for the few days of tutoring she had given him on healing spells as he quickly stopped the bleeding. He could see where the Bludgeoning Hex had caused damage to one of her knees, and another charm relieved the swelling.
The woman seemed to relax as the wounds were relieved, and Harry could see that the wounds were already healing at a rate that went far beyond anything his relatively minor spellwork had accomplished. He shook his head in disbelief-the relatively minor errand that had brought him to High Way had apparently landed him in the middle of something far bigger: something he could not have imagined only two months before as he walked into the Ministry of Magic with a crucial task to complete.
[August 2nd, 1999-The English Ministry of Magic]
"I'd like to see the Minister, please." The receptionist for the Minister of Magic was engrossed in the latest issue of The Daily Prophet, and did not look up to see who was here to visit her boss, though she registered that the speaker was young and male. After a moment, the voice returned: "If you could tell him I'm here, ma'am, I'm sure that he'd want to see me."
The receptionist smirked, amused enough to raise her eyes from the front-page article about rumored sightings of Harry Potter to react to the intruder. "Minister Scrimgeour has a waiting list of people waiting to see him that contains some of the best known names in the Wizarding World, young man. If you wish to add your name to it, and your business is urgent, you might get in to see him-in about six months. Since I doubt your news is that urgent, I would suggest that-" Her eyes moved up to meet those of the visitor, and the twenty-five year veteran of the Ministry of Magic temporarily forgot how to breathe as she blinked, then looked back down at the front page of The Daily Prophet, then back up at the dark haired young man, who was watching her with an openly amused expression. He wore a black dragonskin suit that the receptionist knew would have cost at least five thousand galleons even at discount, and the famous scar on his forehead was readily visible over the intense green eyes. The receptionist started to speak, and found that the temporary lack of oxygen made the task a Herculean one: "Mis-Pott-so-sorr-I."
There was a click from the door behind the receptionist, and Rufus Scrimgeour sighed in mild irritation as he looked out at the scene. "Matilda-go ahead and take a break for the next hour. You're not much use to me sitting there gasping like a fish. I'll activate the office wards as you go." The receptionist nodded briskly and fled after directing one last apologetic glance at Harry. Harry watched her go, still visibly amused, and it was a few seconds before he turned back to face the Minister. Scrimgeour inclined his head and gestured to the open door as he invited: "Would you care to come in, Mr. Potter?"
Harry inclined his head in response and walked into the office. He had never seen the office during the days when Cornelius Fudge had run the Ministry, and had no idea what to expect from the grim, pragmatic new leader of Wizarding Britain. He saw a medium-sized room with walls that looked as if they had been handcarved by a master craftsman, and those walls were covered with dozens of wizarding paintings and photographs. He noted that the occupants of some of the pictures were looking at him disapprovingly, and he obeyed a sudden impulse by turning and cheekishly winking at a group of them. When he turned back to the Minister, he saw a ghost of a smile on the older man's face, and he realized that-for whatever reason-his impulsive gesture had been the right thing to do. He sat down in the sinfully overstuffed visitor chair that Scrimgeour had pointed him to, and looked over at him as he said simply, "Minister Scrimgeour, I know you're a busy man, so I'll get to the point. You've expressed concerns to me that you believe I can help you with, by cooperation and communicating information in my possession-I've come to offer at least a partial solution to that problem."
Scrimgeour nodded, and Harry was surprised at the genuine-looking amusement on the man's face as he suggested, "Your friend Miss Granger helped you come up with that opening comment, right?"
Harry was tempted to make an outraged retort, but was inhibited by the fact that the Minister was, of course, correct. He shrugged casually and replied, "We both believed it would be a good idea, given the outcome of the last two times we met, that I quickly established my intentions in diplomatically appropriate language." He sighed and added, "From here on in it's just me, Minister-are you interested in what I have to say?"
"Very much so, Mr. Potter." Scrimgeour replied calmly, his eyes focused completely on the young man sitting in front of him. "Please go on."
"I'd be glad to, sir-but I'm going to have to insist on doing so in a place where the walls don't have eyes and ears." Harry stood up and walked to the fireplace, and Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow as Harry tossed in a handful of floo powder and shouted "Hogwarts!" The fire turned green, and Harry turned back to the Minister-who was still sitting: "Are you coming, sir? After a moment, Scrimgeour nodded and followed Harry through the fire.
@ @ @ @ @
They arrived in the room that Harry still called "Professor Dumbledore's Office" in his mind, though it was now Minerva McGonagall who sat behind the large desk and watched as the two wizards tumbled out of her fireplace. The Headmistress called out, "Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. . Minister Scrimgeour -may I help you with anything?"
"We should be all right, Professor McGonagall. I'll have Dobby bring us some lunch if things go long." Harry replied, glancing over her shoulder and seeing that Professor Dumbledore's portrait still seemed to be slumbering. He nodded to the Headmistress, then headed for the exit of the office, the somewhat-bemused Minister of Magic in tow behind him.
Harry led the Minister to a familiar door, then paced in front of it for a few moments. Scrimgeour was about to ask a question when Harry turned to him and said, "I'm sorry for the silent routine, sir, but I'd guess that an alarm will be raised if you're away too long from your office-and there's a lot I need to tell you, if I can."
The Minister nodded. "I understand-but my secretary is under standing orders to cancel all appointments and hold all calls whenever I should happen to be in a meeting with you, and not to under any circumstances short of the sound of Unforgivables going off in my office to interrupt the meeting without my direct request. We have all the time we need."
Harry blinked, and it was a moment before he could continue. "Well. . good, then." He pointed to the door and explained, "This is the entry door to the Room of Requirement-we used it to hold meetings of the D.A. last year, and Malfoy-Draco Malfoy. . ."
".used it to help create a means for sneaking the force of Death Eaters into Hogwarts, leading to Headmaster Dumbledore's death." Scrimgeour's tone was somber, and the look on his face respectful as he watched Harry struggling with his emotions. Harry nodded hesitantly, and the Minister added, "I'm familiar with the basic properties of the Room, Mr. Potter-why are we here?"
Harry took a moment to regain his composure, then gave the same explanation of the discoveries that he, Hermione, and Ron had made about the ability of the Room to cast contingent Obliviate spells. Scrimgeour nodded-fascinated at the powerful and unique manifestation of the work of the Four Founders-and waited for Harry to finish before asking, "If that's the case, why didn't you wait until we were in the Room to tell me this, Mr. Potter? Your leverage over me would have been increased greatly if the fact that I would not be able to reveal or act to thwart your plans was already a -fait accompli--."
"Two reasons, sir." Harry smiled-he had assumed that the Minister would ask this question. Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow in interest and waited. Harry inclined his head and began: "First, our relationship has been a bit testy up to this point-you don't have any reason to trust me, and I don't particularly trust you. Casting a spell on you without your knowledge or permission didn't strike me as a good way to change that for the better. Consider it a gesture of good faith on my part."
Scrimgeour looked at Harry for a long time after that remark, then smiled slightly and replied: "Indeed. And the second reason?"
Harry shrugged and said simply:
"The Tenfold Principle."
The Minister blinked, then bowed ever so slightly in respect as he said, "I'm impressed-most NEWT-level Charms graduates don't know about that. Do we have Miss Granger to thank for this again?"
Harry smirked, and shook his head before replying: "She would have found it eventually, but I've been spending more time than her looking for magical principles that effectively multiply magical power. When you've been up against the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world, you look for ways to increase your own power to compensate-and I found a detailed explanation of The Tenfold Principle in a book in the Restricted Section a few weeks back." He looked at the Minister and added, "You are a powerful wizard, with access to resources that I cannot be fully aware of-it is quite possible that you may be warded against Obliviate spells-even ones as powerful as the Room can cast. But-according to the Tenfold Principle-if you enter the Room knowing what the effects will be, of your own free will without any compulsion whatsoever, then the force of the spell on you will increase by an order of magnitude, making it extremely unlikely that any wards or protections will be adequate to prevent it from operating on you." He paused, then concluded, "Of course, if you decline to enter the Room this meeting will end, and I will escort you back to your office, where things will continue between us as before. It's your choice, Minister."
Scrimgeour was silent for a moment, then emitted a great bark of laughter that reminded Harry momentarily of Sirius, in happier times. The Minister studied Harry for a moment, then said quietly, "Mr. Potter, you have succeeded in vindicating my judgment, if not my reasoning. I -do- want you to be on my side, and from what I've seen in the last half hour, it'll be for reasons far less superficial than the ones I was contemplating the prior times we spoke." Scrimgeour locked eyes with Harry, inclined his head at the door, and said simply:
"Let's get on with it, then."
@@@@@
The last memory faded into black, and Harry turned to the Minister-who had been silent during the entire presentation. Scrimgeour looked lost in thought, and Harry waited for a few moments before calling out quietly: "Are you all right, Minister?"
Scrimgeour turned to Harry and laughed briefly-the sound of it was hollow. Harry's eyes narrowed in concern, and he was about to inquire again when the Minister shook his head sadly and said, "It's not every day that you find out that-in spite of your best intentions-you've been behaving like a fool."
Harry's first impulse was to say something comforting, but he realized that the Minister was working through something, and that it would be better to let him finish. After a moment, Scrimgeour blinked, and said quietly, "Mr. Potter. . .I assumed that Dumbledore was involved in some sort of elaborate conflict with He-Who-" Harry frowned, and Scrimgeour hesitated for a moment before inclining his head and amending, "All right, then-with Voldemort. Clearly, the Ministry's conduct had given him little reason to confide in it, even under new leadership-but it was my obligation to find out. The stubbornness of one man-Cornelius Fudge-had allowed Voldemort a whole year to build strength and gain followers without interference, and I couldn't just stand by and take the risk that another man-even a great man like Dumbledore-could do the same thing without at least trying to prevent it. Does that make any sense to you?"
Harry nodded, slowly and reluctantly, and Scrimgeour smiled slightly and continued, "I've never really known what to make of you, Mr. Potter. The circumstances of your survival sixteen years ago were a mystery to me before I entered this room, and even the explanation that Dumbledore gave you strikes me as remarkable almost beyond belief. The fact that you have survived confrontations with Voldemort on repeated occasions since then-even allowing for the substantial assistance you received for some of those occasions-has caused me to believe that you must be charmed in some way. . .even a barrel of Felix Felicis in your bedroom wouldn't have been enough to explain some of your escapes. Whether it was due to you actually being some sort of Chosen One or just blind luck beyond the ability of science or magic to explain, it was inspiring the public-giving them some sort of hope. I didn't know that you were actually going to be able to fight Voldemort-I just knew that I needed to use every last resource I had to oppose him, and all I saw was a symbol, not the man. For what it's worth-I'm sorry. We haven't done right by you-none of us have."
Harry paused for a long moment, then shrugged. "Not much point in dwelling on it now, sir. I wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't willing to set aside the past in exchange for cooperation." The Minister nodded, looking relieved, and Harry smiled slightly in response as he asked, "So what do we do now?"
"Dumbledore was correct to want to keep this information confined to a very small number of people-if Voldemort gets the slightest whiff of what you're trying to do, he'll go out in force, reclaim the Horcruxes, and hide them behind a Fidelius Charm or something even more foolproof." Scrimgeour's tone was grim, and Harry listened carefully as the Minister continued, "Which means my first impulse-to send out a team of experts with each of you to help find the Horcruxes and protect you at the same time-would be worse than useless, though it would have the benefit of keeping you alive."
Harry shook his head. "I own a house protected by Fidelius, and if I wanted to be safe I could hide there the next fifty years. I'm not doing that, and my friends won't do it, either-though I wish they would." Scrimgeour gave Harry a sympathetic look, but Harry ignored it and concluded, "We'll just have to do the best we can to keep safe without an armed escort, sir."
Scrimgeour nodded, then gave Harry an odd look as he continued, "I'll have to find other ways to assist you. . .unfortunately, one of my first duties will be to completely Obliviate myself of the memories of what you've told me within the Room of Requirement."
Harry stared in shocked silence at the Minister for fully five seconds before managing to utter a strangled-sounding question: "You're going to WHAT?"
"Your safety depends on it, Mr. Potter." Through his shock and confusion, Harry noticed that the Minister suddenly looked very tired, as if he had been carrying a great weight for many miles, and was on the verge of collapse. The realization was enough to calm him down somewhat, and Scrimgeour noticed the reaction and continued, "Mr. Potter-my job may look privileged and glamorous, but it does make me a rather obvious target for Voldemort. Fudge was serving Voldemort's purposes by being passive-I am not. He'd like to see me dead, and if he can capture me first, knowing that we have mended fences and that you might have shared secrets with me, he'll wring me dry of useful knowledge before ending me. Well, he'll do both regardless, but I can't risk having that fact betray you too-your role in ending this madness is too important."
"But. . .you're going to do it to yourself? Why not just let the Room do it?" Harry was cringing inside-to him the idea of self-Obliviating was too much like what Lockhart had done to himself, or like a Muggle doctor performing brain surgery on himself.
"Because, for one thing, I don't intend to interfere with your actions-so the conditions of the Room's Obliviation spell won't trigger." Harry nodded reluctantly in agreement, and Scrimgeour added, "Also-as you've noted, the Tenfold Rule along with my knowledge of my own mind will allow me to do a very thorough job of Obliviation. Self-Obliviation is a Master's subject at the Auror Academy, and I got top marks. Voldemort won't even get a ripple of what you're up to through me, or of the Prophecy."
Harry was utterly frustrated, all the more so because the Minister was making sense, and after a moment he burst out angrily: "You mean that's it? It's too dangerous for you to know what's going on, so we go back to being useless to each other? After all of this?"
"Calm yourself, Harry-that's not what I'm saying at all." Harry noticed that the Minister had called him by his first name for the first time since Harry had come to his office earlier that day, and also that his tone in doing so was no longer of the important man talking down to a schoolboy, but instead sounded like Remus might if he were trying to focus Harry's attention on something important. He took a deep breath and went silent, and the Minister smiled at him as he elaborated, "It's time I showed you some of the advantages of age and experience, Harry." He pulled out his wand and conjured a table with two chairs and a substantial amount of parchment and ink, and the two men sat down before Scrimgeour continued, "Now, we are going to discuss basic issues, and come up with some useful courses of action-after which we are going to send a message to someone not in the know about all of this."
Harry listened as the Minister continued, and smiled as he realized that the day had not been wasted after all.
@@@@@
Rufus Scrimgeour blinked, then looked at the young man in front of him in mild confusion: "Mr. Potter, were we going to begin with your presentation?"
Harry hesitated for a moment before replying: "We already finished it, sir."
"We have?" Scrimgeour took out his pocket watch-which showed that several hours had passed-and frowned. "I suppose we did. Am I to assume that the Room Obliviated me?"
Harry shook his head. "No, Minister-you did that to yourself."
"I did?" The Minister of Magic was silent for a moment as he searched his thoughts, then smirked as he commented, "And a good job I did of it, too-I can't remember anything from after I entered the Room." He frowned, then commented, "If I decided I needed to self-Obliviate, then you probably have-"
"-a letter to you from yourself, yes. Here it is, sir." Harry handed Scrimgeour the long scroll of parchment, then gestured to two nearby comfortable chairs. The Minister sat down in one and Harry sat in the other as Scrimgeour noted the seal on the scroll-it was his personal seal, and it glowed with a power that could only be explained by his having put it on the scroll in a fully voluntary and knowing manner. His interest piqued, he broke the seal and opened the scroll, stopping only a moment before beginning to read the contents aloud:
Dear Rufus,
As always when this sort of thing happens, you're probably a bit perplexed. Believe me, you're better off that way than with the information you've extracted from your brain. The good news is that Mr. Potter has agreed to help the Ministry in exchange for clandestine assistance with his own activities, which must remain utterly secret for reasons that you are in full agreement with. To that end, you and Mr. Potter have agreed to the following:
1.. Mr. Potter will make periodic appearances at the Ministry of Magic and at Ministry functions, and will urge the Wizarding community to continue to resist Lord Voldemort. On these occasions, he will have an escort of Aurors handpicked by Mr. Potter himself based on the advice of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, and Alastor Moody. Also, on these occasions Mr. Potter will not be asked to produce his wand or disarm.
2.. At Mr. Potter's request-and with her consent-Nymphadora Tonks is to be placed on indefinite detached duty with Mr. Potter. You will work with the Chief Auror to come up with a suitable cover story to explain her absence during this time, and will not under any circumstances short of an international incident question Ms. Tonks as to her activities during this time.
3.. Stan Shunpike will be released in two weeks time, as he has established his lack of connection with the Death Eaters to your satisfaction, and you have concluded that a change of approach is in order. You will arrange for suitable monetary compensation for Mr. Shunpike and anyone else found to have been detained for an extended period of time without having been shown to be a Death Eater or otherwise connected to Voldemort, and will concentrate on more effective and efficient ways for identifying Death Eaters.
4.. Mr. Potter, as well as his friends Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, are to have complete and unrestricted access to the Ministry Libraries, and will be granted access to those libraries through your private entrances, so that they may access and remove works without being monitored by any of the library personnel. Furthermore, you will issue all three of them letters to deal with the unlikely event that they might be detected removing said works, making it clear that they act with the full authority of the Ministry. Under no circumstances should you inquire as to which works they are consulting, and anyone who obtains knowledge of that list must be Obliviated immediately.
5.. You have granted Mr. Potter the power and authority of a Special Operative of the Ministry, and you will make the appropriate notation of that appointment when you return to your office. You have already given him your signet ring and enchanted it appropriately to allow him to act in that role. His assumed name while acting as Special Operative will be Connor Galleon.
Scrimgeour blinked. Special Operatives were as rare as hen's teeth, even in dangerous times such as these, as Wizarding nations had agreed among themselves not to grant too many individuals such power-bad choices in choosing Special Operatives had come close to causing wars on several occasions. A Special Operative was given what Muggles would call "diplomatic immunity"-a Wizarding nation who captured one was bound by treaty to turn him or her over to his home Ministry without otherwise harming him: failure to do so was considered a grave diplomatic offense. He was exempt from laws restricting International Apparation, and was permitted to use intercontinental Floos without showing identification at either end other than the symbol of his home Ministry. Finally, a Special Operative was authorized to use spells in the same manner that an Auror would, including Obliviation spells and use of the Unforgivables for self-defense and in cases of dire need, answering to the Ministry if any abuse was involved for the latter. It was unheard of for anyone but a senior Ministry official or a topline Auror (Mad Eye Moody had been a Special Operative in his younger days before age and injuries began to catch up with him) to receive such an appointment-it was unthinkable that a seventeen year old wizard who had yet to take his NEWTs would have that power thrust upon him. Scrimgeour looked up from the letter and studied Harry for a moment before asking quietly: "I apologize, Mr. Potter. . .but could you show me--?"
Harry raised his left hand, and formed a fist with the flat side pointing towards the Minister. The signet ring with the symbol of the British Ministry of Magic glistened there-the charms on it would have incapacitated Voldemort himself if he donned the ring without permission or extensive preparatory spell work. Scrimgeour nodded, then asked, "Mr. Potter-you've got to be the most recognizable person in the Wizarding world right now. How do you expect to be able to maintain an alternate identity?"
Harry grinned and replied, "I showed you how, sir-you decided that it would be better if you didn't keep that knowledge. Suffice it to say that if you see 'Connor Galleon,' he won't remind you of Harry Potter."
Scrimgeour watched Harry for a moment longer, sighed, then went back to the letter:
6.. You have been presented with convincing evidence that Dolores Umbridge participated in abuse of Hogwarts students that exceeded any orders or mandate given to her by Cornelius Fudge or any other official of the Ministry. You will immediately reassign her to new duties; specifically, to a post as Sub-Consul to the Wizarding State of Siberia.
Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought you would be quite that vindictive, Mr. Potter."
"Actually, that was you again, sir." Harry sounded darkly amused, and the Minister shivered a little as the young wizard added, "I wanted to send her back to the centaurs."
Scrimgeour shuddered, then went back to the letter.
7.. In the event that Mr. Potter is killed, you will make a public announcement that the Prophecy destroyed in the Ministry was as follows: --He who survived the unsurvivable will face the Dark One time and again and survive until he reaches his majority. With his fall at the hands of utmost evil, ten thousand champions will arise and strike down darkness, ushering in a new age of light-
Scrimgeour stared at Harry. "Is that true?"
Harry smirked. "From what you've told me, you can convince yourself that it is with some rituals and a little more Obliviation." He sobered, then added, "If that snake-faced bastard gets you, at least you'll have the satisfaction of knowing that what he'll get out of your mind will scare him to death."
Scrimgeour felt a chill, and looked back down at the letter to dispel it:
8.. Keep the pressure on Voldemort. It is crucial that he be thoroughly occupied with the forces of the Ministry-to allow other things that must take place for Voldemort to be defeated to occur without interference.
Scrimgeour nodded to himself, and noticed that Harry looked uncomfortable. Though his Obliviation had been thorough, he was starting to strongly suspect why he had given Harry that appointment. He looked directly at Harry and stated bluntly, "You realize, of course, that a lot of Aurors are likely to die carrying out this order."
Harry paled slightly, but his expression remained calm. "Yes, Minister-I know that."
The Minister nodded, then looked down at the last part of the letter. His eyes widened, and he read the last part silently:
I made him step back when I wrote this part. . .he's a good man, Rufus-and he cares about this world: more than he probably should, given what his life has been up to now. Advise him-even yank him away from the precipice if the occasion calls for it-but believe in him. If you're fortunate, you'll live long enough to find out why you should.
Good fortune,
Rufus Scrimgeour
British Minister of Magic
Scrimgeour looked down at the letter for a moment longer, then looked back up at Harry and smiled slightly before standing up. He inclined his head at the door and suggested, "Let's get going, then. I have orders to issue, and you apparently have something to do that I'm not meant to know about." Harry nodded, and the Minister extended his hand to Harry. The younger man shook it firmly, and Scrimgeour added in a whisper:
"Godspeed, Harry."
@ @ @ @ @
Harry watched the Minister disappear into the green fire and closed his eyes. He was feeling completely overwhelmed, and the loss of the Minister as an ally fully in the know-even with the assistance that he was willing to provide following his self-Obliviation-was very painful to him. Professor McGonagall had left the office, and there was no reason to stay longer. He was reaching for a handful of floo powder when he heard a very familiar voice:
"Harry-if I may have a moment of your time, I believe I can continue to assist in spite of circumstances."
Harry felt a surge of joy, which was immediately doused by reality, and he was thoroughly ambivalent when he turned to face the now-fully alert portrait of Albus Dumbledore. He forced a smile and said simply, "I wasn't sure when you'd wake up, sir."
"There is always a time involved in transition when a post-mortem portrait is activated, Harry. It is the price that is paid for the degree of sentience and detailed memories that the portrait receives." Harry forced himself to listen and to meet the eyes of the portrait-which did not twinkle. The portrait sighed and continued gently, "Harry-after what happened last year I feel the need to make a matter clear immediately. My death should not trouble your conscience-I insured that you could not interfere, and I was aware of the risks involved in my temporary weakness from our expedition. I am enjoying the next great adventure, and have left this part of myself behind to advise you and others to the best of my ability-within limits, of course."
Harry nodded, slowly and with difficulty, before replying: "Thank you, Professor. Is there anything you would like to know?"
Dumbledore nodded, and leaned forward eagerly as he asked, "What of the Horcrux, Harry-have you managed to destroy it?" Harry paled, and Dumbledore's expression twisted with sudden concern. "Was someone hurt by the destruction?"
Harry swallowed hard, and told him of how he had discovered the false locket with the note. Dumbledore listened without interrupting, and nodded as Harry finished before commenting, "There was no way you could have known, Harry-you were distracted by my condition, and I was far too disoriented to note that the amulet was a fake. In any event, this is an important development-we know that at least one other person was privy to Voldemort's secret, and we also have to determine whether that amulet has actually been destroyed-probably by determining who R.A.B. is. That may be a formidable task-though I would suggest starting with a list of deceased known and accused Death Eaters, as they would have been the individuals most likely to be in a position to both have the knowledge and the opportunity to betray Voldemort."
Harry frowned. He had not been concentrating on uncovering the identity of R.A.B. during the weeks after his departure, but it was definitely going back to near the top of his list. "I'll pass that advice on to Hermione, sir. Was there anything else you wanted to know?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "Nothing specific, Harry-I'd just like to be kept up to date as much is as practical. Given the research and other investigations you are involved with, I might recognize a name, a place, or a spell that you are not familiar with, and can assist in that manner." Harry nodded, and Dumbledore sighed and looked sadly at the young wizard as he said, "Harry-I do have one piece of advice for you above all others. Do not let a desire for vengeance cloud your reasoning and interfere with your ultimate goals. You are undoubtedly inclined to seek out certain individuals for their roles in the deaths of persons you cared for-I can only urge you to put aside that impulse, and to continue on your mission. In making it possible to destroy Voldemort and then carrying that destruction out, you will achieve the greatest possible vengeance on those who deserve it. If you must defend yourself against those persons in carrying out your mission, then by all means do so: but please, Harry-do not seek them out."
Harry scowled, and was silent for a moment before beginning: "Professor-about Snape--?"
"Harry-it is too soon for us to discuss that matter." Dumbledore's voice was soft, and filled with regret. Harry watched , more than a little angry, as Dumbledore looked to the side and continued, "Severus has made his choices, and he must live with the consequences, as must we all. Again, I must urge you not to seek him out for purposes of revenge-in some ways, he poses a more formidable risk to you than Voldemort himself: he knows you better, and is sadly adept at provoking you. The time may come when you are forced to fight for your life against him, and it will be better if it happens after you are more powerful, better trained, and have gained more perspective on the overall situation than you possess at the moment. Am I making sense, Harry?"
"I suppose so, sir." Harry was not completely convinced, but had to admit to himself that Snape had held him off without much apparent effort-he needed to improve his abilities before he faced the treacherous Potions Master again.
Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Excellent, Harry. Now, before you go-an old friend wanted to see you again." A flash of fire burst out of nowhere, and a phoenix appeared on the corner of the Headmistress' desk.
"Fawkes!" Harry cried out, stepping forward to stroke the feathers of the magical bird. Fawkes let out a low, pleased cry, and Harry continued, "I thought. . .I thought you were gone for good after the Professor died."
"He was-at least in the sense that Hogwarts is no longer his home and his chosen companion is no longer alive." Dumbledore's tone was somber and respectful, and Harry went silent, still shocked at the sudden appearance of the creature who had helped save his life on more than one occasion. "He has returned because he still loves this world, and would like to choose a new companion to allow him to continue to live within it and help it survive."
Harry blinked, and quickly made the connection. "Me? Fawkes wants to live with me?" The phoenix looked directly at Harry and seemed to nod slightly as he let out an exuberant trill. Harry felt a moment of excitement, then realized something that caused his mood to plummet. Fawkes reached out a wing to nudge Harry, and Harry turned to the phoenix and explained, "I'd love it if you lived with me-but I'll be constantly traveling now. I'm going to disguise Hedwig and use her for messages. . .but you always seemed so comfortable here with Professor Dumbledore, having someone with you all the time. I can't give that to you-not now."
Fawkes took flight and landed on Harry's right shoulder before giving him a friendly nudge with his head. Dumbledore laughed and commented, "It seems that Fawkes is willing to live with an absentee companion, Harry." Harry laughed involuntarily and looked up at Fawkes as Dumbledore continued, "I'd suggest putting his perch at 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry-Dobby would undoubtedly be more than happy to make sure Fawkes is adequately cared for. He can travel freely on his own, and-as was the case in the Chamber of Secrets-he will be able to come to the aid of those who have pledged their loyalty to you in time of utmost need." Dumbledore looked sadly at Fawkes and concluded, "Fawkes was at my side for over a hundred years, Harry-I hope that you two share an even longer connection."
Harry blinked, and felt tears come as he replied, "Thank you, Professor. I have to go-"
"Indeed. Your life will have little time for moments like this, Harry-I hope that you can derive some enjoyment for the ones that do come." Professor Dumbledore inclined his head to Harry. "Until we meet again." The eyes of the portrait closed, and Fawkes let out a trill and vanished in a flash of fire. Harry gave the portrait one last thoughtful look before reaching for the Floo Powder.
@ @ @ @ @
Harry tumbled out of the Floo at 12 Grimmauld Place, which now terminated in Harry's private office. He saw Remus and Tonks staring at Fawkes, who was perched on the corner of a low bookcase and watching them. Harry called out, "Hello, Fawkes." The phoenix let out a trill of greeting, and Harry turned to his friends and asked, "What's the matter-haven't you ever seen a phoenix before?"
Remus glared mildly at Harry before replying, "We've been worried-your meeting with the Minister took far longer than we might have expected."
Harry grinned wickedly, and responded much as his father or Sirius might have: "I'm sure you two managed to find a way to pass the hours, Moony."
Remus blushed crimson, and Tonks began to laugh. Harry smiled involuntarily-the change in Tonks since she had broken down Remus' sales resistance had been heartening; if anything, she was more cheerful and unconcerned with propriety than she had ever been. She looked over at Harry with a lazy smile and replied, "Yes-but he's a gentleman and won't tell tales out of school, Harry. Now-how about telling us what happened?"
Harry complied with the request-leaving out any mention of the Prophecy or Horcruxes-and concluded by repeating the provisions of the letter that Scrimgeour had written before Obliviating himself. Tonks whistled when he finished: "He made you a Special Operative? I almost thought they were myths-there can't be more than a couple of others in the entire country, and I've never met one." Harry displayed the signet ring, and Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "Harry-I've been all right with you keeping us in the dark on this, for the same reasons that the Minister Obliviated himself, but I don't mind telling you that the fact that he was willing to give you that kind of power scares me."
"And me as well, Harry." Remus sounded disturbed, and Harry waited for him to continue: "The Minister was right, Harry-you're about as likely to go unrecognized as the President of the United States would be walking down the street in Muggle America. How are you going to pretend to be 'Connor Galleon'?"
Harry blinked, then turned to Tonks and asked, "You didn't tell him?"
Tonks raised an eyebrow. "I'm a trained Auror, Harry-we don't go around spilling secrets even when we've got other things on our minds."
Harry smiled apologetically, then turned to Remus-removing his glasses as he did so. His features blurred, and the scar on his forehead vanished. His hair lengthened until it looked like a dark version of Lucius Malfoy's notable mane. His height increased significantly as a Switching Spell triggered, causing the black dragonskin suit to vanish and be replaced with a normal dress robe. His nose lengthened slightly, his cheekbones grew more heightened, and his lips thinned. When he had finished, only the green eyes even remotely suggested that the person standing in front of the astounded werewolf was Harry Potter. Tonks-who had been watching the process with a pleased smile--frowned and asked, "No luck in getting the eyes to change, huh?"
Harry shook his head. "No-and I've been trying in the mirror for a week now since our last session together." He noticed the resigned expression on Tonks' face, and he commented: "You don't look surprised."
Tonks shook her head. "I was hoping that I was wrong, and it was something that you'd work through with practice." Harry frowned, puzzled, and Tonks hastened to explain: "Metamorphmagi always have one feature that they are unable to change, no matter how hard they try or practice to overcome it. Obviously, the more prominent of a feature that it is, the more it hampers the ability to create an effective disguise." She studied Harry and suggested, "We're just lucky that it wasn't the scar. . .oh well, at least it's not stopping you from correcting your eyesight by moving the muscles around-without glasses, people will be less likely to think it's you even if they're suspicious. Other than that, you're just going to have to use Muggle sunglasses, or maybe colored contact lenses if it's dark."
Remus-wisely deciding to put aside the question of how long Harry had known he was a Metamorphmagus-frowned and turned to Tonks: "What feature can't you change? I've never noticed any part that you couldn't change."
Tonks looked up and met Remus' gaze as she wrapped her arms around his neck and replied, "I'll show you later if you're good-but business before fun, love." Remus blushed again, and Harry suppressed a snicker as Tonks turned back to Harry and ordered briskly, "All right, then-let's work on a training schedule for the next two weeks. If you're going to insist on running around the world as a Special Operative, I'm going to make sure you know every nasty Auror-approved trick I can teach you before you head out."
Harry nodded, but Remus spoke up again: "Wait a minute-you agreed to make public appearances for the Ministry, and by implication a substantial number of them. How are you going to do that and run around the world as Connor Galleon at the same time?"
Harry smirked and inclined his head at Tonks. Remus turned, and jumped back as he realized that he was being embraced by. . .Harry Potter. "Harry" quirked an eyebrow at Remus and asked in Harry's voice: "What's the matter? Don't you love me any more?"
After the events of the day, this image was too much for Harry, who sank to the floor laughing uncontrollably, as Fawkes sang contentedly and Remus glared at the woman he loved as she stood there laughing, in the guise of the most famous figure in the Wizarding world.
@@@@@
After that last feverish two weeks of training, Harry had immediately departed, following leads that Hermione and Ron uncovered as to where information about Hufflepuff's Cup or any unknown artifacts of Godric Gryffindor might be located. In his guise as Connor Galleon, he had spoken to more than a few shady characters, and spent a substantial amount of time and money in acquiring obscure texts that existed in no libraries. As October began, he had not developed any solid leads, though he was getting a good idea of how wide Voldemort's influence had stretched, as he had avoided encounters with Death Eaters by only narrow margins in Tokyo, Nairobi, and Miami before his latest expedition had brought him to the Wizarding business center of High Way in Southern California. The grouping of four Death Eaters openly trying to capture or kill the young woman had been too much to ignore, and watching that young woman in action against the deadly Dark Wizards had caused him to come to a stunning realization:
She was a Slayer.
He studied the face of the young woman, and his eyes narrowed in puzzlement. He dismissed the thought and laid her gently down against a wall, then cast a levitation spell to bring one of the unconscious Death Eaters over to him. He put the man down against the same wall the young woman was sitting, then pulled a small box out of his pocket. He placed a hand of each of his charges against the box, then put his own hand on it as he called out: "Refuge."
Without a pause, the three persons disappeared from the alley-leaving three unconscious Death Eaters for the Magical Law Enforcement officers to discover when they arrived thirty seconds later.
. .to be continued
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