Landslide
“Another one,” Fleamont laughs as he sorts through the mail tossing the courting letter into the pile to be thrown out.
“You are just so popular my darling,” Euphemia said, grabbing his cheeks and squeezing them as if he was a child.
Harry moved away from her laying down on their floral print couch. He could think of something better to respond with than a loud dramatic sigh.
Really he thought being asked out was irritating when he was younger, being asked to court was one thousand times worse. Mostly because the purposers were oftentimes a good forty years older than him, and most already divorced. The idea that any of them really think he’d ever say yes is laughable.
Still he got the letters, and, as a good pure blood boy, he rejected them kindly. He would use harsher words in his rejections but he had an image to maintain.
Plus Euphemia read through the rejection letters he sent out.
“Here’s one from Regulus love,” Fleamont said, tossing the letter to Harry.
It had Regulus’s nice cursive writing sprawled out on the front. Inside it was simple.
‘Come with me to the ministry. Internships. 2:00.’
Harry giggled, hadn’t even bothered signing it. He glanced at the clock ticking above the fireplace, it was 1:40. Knowing Regulus when he said be there at 2 he really meant be there thirty minutes early.
He sighed, tossing the letter away and stood. “I’ll be off, mum, dad.”
“Where to love?” Euphemia asked as she hugged him tight.
“The ministry,” Harry returned her affection, “interviews for summer internships are starting today. Regulus has been talking about it since the start of spring semester, he wants to get one together.”
“That’s fantastic!” Euphemia exclaimed as she finally released him.
“Oh before you go,” she ran off rumpling through junk drawers then returned to him, box in hand. “This is for James, just pop by the auror department and give it to him. It won’t be more than a second of your time.”
Harry took the box, gave her a final kiss on the cheek, waved the Fleamont, and then went out the floo.
As he stumbled into the ministry he shook the box his mom had given him, whatever was inside jingled, it was probably some home good for his and his girlfriend's new apartment.
After James graduated, just about a year ago, he joined the auror department, they were quick to give him a job offer given his marks and passion. He was quite determined to stop the ever looming threat of the anonymous terror attacks.
He had also made things official with Lilly and they had gotten an apartment together. A muggle apartment.
Euphemia and Fleamont had not been entirely enthused at the thought of their son dating a muggle born. They were both progressive people however and were taking it in stride, no arguments.
Harry did get the sense Euphemia was trying to slowly turn their apartment more magical based on all her housewarming gifts.
He agreed, James didn’t belong in the muggle world, a muggle apartment did not suit them.
Well maybe it suited Lilly, not James, he was above that.
He took a turn and saw the crowd of school age kids waiting on benches outside of an office. Most were sixth year Hogwarts students like him, so it wasn't hard to spot Regulus and Barty in the crowd.
It was common for pure blooded, and the occasional half blood, Hogwarts students in the upper years to get summer internships. James had done an auror internship himself the summer before his seventh year.
“Hello,” Harry waved at his friends.
Regulus responded with a glare, “you’re late.”
“You said 2,” he casted a tempus, “to me it looks like I'm just on time.”
Regulus rolled his eyes and scooted over, nearly shoving Barty off the end of the bench, giving Harry a seat next to him.
“So what position are you going for?” Harry asked.
“Bookkeeping sounds nice, and it’ll be far away from my dad,” Barty said, glancing around at the other people. “Plus it’s an easy grab, I doubt anyone else will really want to intern in the ministry library.”
Harry disagreed he would gladly go for a library position. Lots of secrets to uncover in such a vast ancient library. But he nodded along anyway.
“Harry,” Regulus began, looking him in the eye “we should work together. There are two positions for undersecretary interns.”
Harry glanced at the floor.
Regulus was ambitious, a slytherin, he wanted power. The internship he was vying for would mean working under the junior undersecretary, Evan Rosier who graduated in James’s year.
By extension this meant also working under the current senior undersecretary to the minister, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was Regulus’s blood relative a few times removed, as well as being married to his cousin Narcissa.
Harry had met him once before at grimourd palace. He was young for such a ministry role, only seven years out of school. Most were well into their fifties before getting such high ranking positions. He was also a total prick.
Lucius Malfoy was not the reason for Harry’s duress however, his issue came with who was above him. Harry had not encountered minister Tom Riddle in person since he had been forced into an unbreakable vow two years prior.
In his dreams they had also hardly met, Harry had taken to odd sleeping habits to avoid that.
He was sure mister Riddle had as well based on the news articles of how he hardly slept. The news said it was out of dedication to his people and improving the British magical government.
Harry knew the truth, he was the only one that did.
After the fiasco at the Yule party Harry had ran out avoiding the questions of his brother and friends. He locked himself in his bed warding the curtains around him, scared and pitiful.
He hated how the minister frightened him, he hated how strong he was. But he reasoned with himself, stay out of him way, deal with yourself, reveal nothing and nothing bad can happen.
The minister himself didn’t know why they were connected in this way so it had to be some sort of accident. Maybe it was his volatile life giving virmili magic, maybe it was pure chance. He often reminded himself, whatever the reason was that this was happening, it would all turn out alright.
Harry was neutral, Harry was loyal, he loved his family and friends. He was popular but didn’t talk to people much. He liked quidditch but he was alright with losing.
He was normal, unremarkable, this would go away. He was no one grand or important. The minister would see this, the minister would lose interest, he’d find out none of this was Harry’s doing, the connection would sever on its own.
He promised himself this, in the back of his mind it still lingered though. A deep voice whispering in his ear “This is not the end of our conversation.”
Either way it wasn’t so bad, on the occasions they did dream together neither would acknowledge each other. The minister would just watch him with that predatory gaze, assessing him.
“You know I don’t like politics Reggie, I might try for something else.” Harry picked up the list of intern positions, “like um… the international magical cooperation department, how fun.” Harry faked a smile.
“Actually Harry,” Barty butt in, “that’d be a lot more politics I think.”
Harry rolled his eyes, “I’ll become an auror intern, be with James and Sirius or something. I just don’t want to do the whole politics thing alright.”
Regulus appraised him skeptically, he obviously didn’t believe Harry. He was ready to question Harry when he was suddenly called up for his interview.
“What’s the real reason?” Harry jumped, not expecting Barty to talk with him much as Regulus was gone.
“Really it’s just the politics thing,” Harry flipped through the intern pamphlet to distract from his terrible lie.
“I thought you started to get interested in politics, since fourth year you’ve been reading the paper more.” Barty raised an eyebrow.
“Yea?” Harry looked him in the eye, a warning of sorts. As if to say ‘so what if I’m lying’.
Barty hummed awkwardly and instead preoccupied himself with something else.
Harry wasn’t trying to be rude to him, nor to Regulus, he just hated how they made his business their business. It reminded him far too much of James. He had friends to destress about his life problems, not to focus more on them, he had his mind healer for that.
Though, he hadn’t seen Dr. Zabini in nearly two years, not since he made the unbreakable vow with Mr. Riddle. Probably because he didn’t want to talk about his feelings.
Soon enough Regulus was walking back towards them, a smug smile on his face. Of course he did perfect in the interview, everyone here already ate out of the palm of his hand based purely upon his last name.
Before Regulus sat down Harry was motioned towards the front, saved by the bell, he was not interested in being questioned by his friend.
“Hello!” The girl at the desk said, she was from James’s year, a half blood.
“I’ll just have you fill this out,” she handed Harry a parchment with a questionnaire and quill, “once you're done come back up and you’ll go into one of those rooms.” She motioned to the two closed doors. “We’ll contact you in a few days and tell you whether or not you got the spot.” Harry nodded politely and took the parchment.
He sat down and began to thumb through the parchment. The first page was information about himself.
Beyond that it asked him to rank his top three choices for his internship, Harry sighed, maybe he should just join Barty. Truly he had no desire to spend his whole summer with his brother and his brothers friends. He couldn’t join Reggie, as much as he wanted to.
He began to fill out the first page, easy information, it started with his name and age. Simple enough.
He paused at the parents section, out of habit he had scrawled Euphemia and Fleamont Potter. He often forgot about his odd history. He scratched the name out and instead replaced it with his long dead biological parents, Dorea Black and Charlus Potter.
Next to the parents name was written blood status, next to that a checkbox with two options, pure-blood or muggle origin.
Barty had been correct, as of the past two years Harry had been focusing more on politics, ever since he met the minister. It was due to his paranoia over the man mostly. He had been watching politics so closely in fact he had noticed this recent policy change.
It wasn’t well covered in the news, drowned out instead by praise of Riddle for his moderate takes during speeches, his disavowing of the terrorist activity, or general praise of the man for him being a half blood.
Under the radar he had created the new restriction that all ministry documents must have only two options for blood status, pure or muggle origin. Instead of how it had been since 1960, pure blood, half blood, muggle born.
It was a small change, something most wouldn’t question, but impactful nonetheless.
It was laughable really, how many hard right blood purest doctrine he had been able to pass without media fuss.
They were so focused on his public niceties they didn’t realize the snake that hid underneath.
Harry knew though, not that he’d say anything.
It wasn’t as if his box had changed at all.
Though it did make him think, which box does minister Riddle tick. He’s a half blood, he basks in it in the media taking full advantage of their praise of him for being so progressive just by virtue of existing.
In private he acted like a true pure blood lord. He ordered Lestrange around like nothing, obviously seeing himself above the man.
But why though? Why would the head of a family, someone as proud as Corvus Lestrange do a half bloods bidding?
Harry shoved the thought off, there was hardly a use harping on the man who choked him out. The less he thought of the man the better.
He continued on the parchment, writing he was in hogwarts, a rising sixth year. Basic things, boring things, when he suddenly felt a presence.
A dark presence.
He remembered this feeling.
Before he could even think to react a hand found its way to his shoulder. The second it connected with his clothes skin he felt an electric shock. Neither good nor bad feeling, but odd.
It was cold, he knew this hand. He looked up to see the face of Tom Riddle, the very minister of magic.
“Hm an internship?” The man leaned over him looking at the parchment he had hardly filled out.
The minister's breath caressed his ear, eerily similar to how he had done just two years ago when he was threatening Harry.
Harry sucked in a breath, “I’ll leave, is that what you want? I’ll leave, I don’t need an internship.”
“No,” the minister released his shoulder, “I don’t want that. Put the parchment away, you won’t be needing it. Follow me.”
Harry shouldn’t, he couldn’t do this again. But, despite the warnings in his head, he followed the minister. He glanced back at his friends who were looking at him, Barty with awe, and Regulus with a twist of shock and horror.
Harry was sure Regulus knew somewhat of the minister's shady side based on his parents' dealings with him, though they had never discussed it together. Even if Reggie tried, Harry would never put his friend in danger.
They entered the elevator together, everyone else got off as they got on. The doors closed and they were alone for a second time in person, outside of their shared dreams.
Harry gathered all his courage and opened his mouth, “w- why?” He cringed at the sound of his own voice. It wasn’t as bold as he had been going for.
The minister smirked, something less cruel and at least slightly genuine. “This connection is negatively affecting you. There are bags under your eyes still, you only sleep an hour a night correct? And occasional naps during the day.”
Harry fought the urge to snort. This man acted as if Harry was the only one with bags under the eyes, the only one losing sleep. The minister would have approached him unless he too was dealing with the consequences of their odd connection.
That was good, it gave him leverage.
“So, you’ve found a way to fix it?” Harry said, slightly less shaky.
“No,” the elevator dinged, “but I’m close. To keep you near would benefit.”
“Close?” Harry found himself saying without even thinking.
“Yes,” they arrived at an office door, “it just so happened my last secretary left. You will be a fine replacement. While this is going on I expected full transparency and cooperation in removing,” he gestured between them, “this.”
Harry’s hands tightened into a fist and for the first time since the last time they had seen eachother he looked the minister in the eye. “Why should I? Who’s to say this is bad for me. I have no problem losing a little sleep. No skin off my back.”
A dangerous look creeped into the minister's red tinged eyes. “Don’t lie Harry, not to me. You ought not to forget I hold all the cards. Your brother works for the ministry now doesn't he?”
All of his previous boldness dissolved at the mention of this and his gaze turned to the floor once more.
“Your desk,” the minister gestured to the small desk in front of the office labeled ‘Minister of Magic’, “Is here. You’ll start tomorrow, I expect to see you in it at 6am tomorrow.”
Harry wanted to argue, to say chew Riddle out about presuming he’d say yes. To get angry that he was making him come in immediately no matter his own plans or circumstances. He wanted to tell him he wouldn’t show up an hour earlier than every other ministry worker for a job he didn’t want.
He said none of this.
Instead he nodded and watched the minister's feet as he walked into his office leaving Harry behind.
After a few moments he snapped out of his daze and glanced at the nearest clock. It was nearly 3. Looking around he wasn’t sure where he was.
He had never been to this area of the ministers before, it was an area reserved for high ranking officials only, he guessed as the halls were near empty as he made his way to the elevator.
Inside the elevator was a whole other issue, it was self operated, again probably an issue of privacy. For Harry it was irritating.
It took him a whole thirty minutes to move the elevator, eventually he found some kind of panel. The panel however did not have floor numbers on it, instead symbols he was unable to decipher. So in his haste he pressed all of them.
Perhaps it was the gryffindor in him, the idiotic Potter side of him.
After what seemed like forever of the elevator door opening to floors he didn’t recognize it finally opened to reveal something he was familiar with. The low lever auror floor, the floor James and Sirius worked on.
He sighed stepping off the wretched elevator. As it dinged he wondered, how in the world will I get to the minister's floor tomorrow.
However, tomorrow's problems are nothing to think about currently. Right now he could hardly think of anything with the splitting migraine that had been slowly building since he had spoken to Riddle.
He walked through the halls, ignoring the pounding in his head, Euphemia's gift in hand.
Eventually he reached the bull pen that was full of desks housing young aurors. James and Sirius were easy to spot as they were goofing off instead of doing what the rest of the crowd was doing, paperwork.
“What perils you suffer through James,” Harry said as he approached them unamused, he tossed the gift onto James’s desk.
“All work and no play what can I say,” James got up and pulled him into a hug. Harry would have tried to avoid it but he didn’t have the strength to care, not today.
“Did mom give this to you to give to me? Is that why you’re here? She sent you all this way just for,” he paused as he opened the gift, “a magical door knocker.” James sighed, “great. She knows we live in a muggle building right? We can’t use this on our door! We can’t use most of the gifts she gives us or else Lily can’t have her muggle friends over. I tell her this all the time.”
Harry wanted to say something, say this was what he signed up for dating a muggle born. To say he should have thought of this prior. To say Lily shouldn’t have muggle friends in the first place.
But with this awful headache and James and Sirius’s tendency to blow things out of proportion he kept quiet. “I’m here for the internships,” he said instead.
James and Sirius lit up, “oh that’s great! I remember when we did our internships, pure fun I tell you. Honestly more exciting than actually doing the job. Do you think you got anything?” Sirius asked.
Harry contemplated for a moment.
He couldn’t say yes or they’d ask him what position. But if he said no they might see him in the halls he would be working here with Riddle, not of him own free will though.
He could always tell the truth, but that’d invite questions, and questions would get them killed.
“I bombed the interview.”
“Oh,” they both looked disappointed, James especially. “Well there's always next year,” James’s smile looked fake, Harry could see through it.
He knew James wanted him to be an auror, he wanted to be able to relate to Harry after years of them gradually becoming more and more distant.
“It’s better anyways,” his brother's voice broke through his thoughts, “these politicians and officials are pretty blood purest. Best not to get involved.” Sirius nodded in agreement.
The conversation fizzled out quickly and Harry bid adieu. It was hard for him to be around those two sometimes, especially with the thought of the minister lingering in his mind.
He made his way back to the lobby, easier this time as he used the standard elevator. He stepped into the area the interviews had been taking place. It seemed all the interviewees had long since left, including Regulus.
He had probably been forced out, he wouldn’t have left willingly without knowing Harry was alright. It was better for Harry, saved him from an awkward conversation.
Harry made his way home taking his time walking the streets. He flood a distance away giving him time to contemplate, to cool his head.
Inside the house was quite, Euphemia and Fleamont out on a date night probably. Without James in the house Harry often found himself alone.
He went up to his bedroom prepared to launch himself into an early sleep, hopefully Riddle would sleep later into the night. He tended to.
He found himself stopping at his desk though as he glanced at the paper that sat on it. Not a letter but a note, in Regulus’s loopy handwriting.
‘We need to talk.’