The Resolve of Harry Potter
“You are looking much better than the last time I saw you,”
“Careful Tom, you are starting to sound like you care about me,” Harry responded flippantly to the visage of Voldemort that had once more invaded his dreams
“And you, brat, should be careful of your tone. Lest you want me to go back to our previous methods of communication. Torture, until you finally wrestle yourself free from your dreams,” the man responded coolly, though a smirk played on the edges of his lips.
Harry found himself once more in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. It had been some time since he had last been here, at least within his dreams. Voldemort seemed unable to bother his mind while he was in a coma, and it like felt ages since he last saw the man. Harry knew he shouldn’t find the sight of the man at the desk or the room comforting, but some part of his mind did. A part of his mind that Harry was heavily annoyed with.
“You know, I remember reading that torture isn’t an effective method of gathering information. Something about victims being willing to say anything for it to end,” Harry responded as he idly walked around the room. He was still shocked by the level of detail in this place. And the fact he could interact with the objects that decorated the place as if they were real
“Well of course, luckily for me I can just extract whatever information I need from someone’s mind with ease,” Voldemort said, his red eyes tracking Harry as he walked around the room
“So then why don’t you just do that to me? If you were so hellbent on finding me, why not just do that,”
“Because, you foolish boy, I would need to be in person to access those memories,” Voldemort began to slip into a tone of voice that Harry had dubbed his ‘professor persona and the boy groaned inwardly as he prepared for whatever lecture was waiting for him,
“While I do not understand the full nature of our connection, nor this space that we share, it does not give me as much access to your mind as one would think. I can shift this space, as can you, from various memories. Yet, I cannot see those memories that the setting is from. While I am a skilled Master of the mental arts, what you speak of is impossible unless I have you in my clutches,”
“So, you can’t do it, got you. Then if you can’t find out where I am unless I tell you and clearly you have no interest in torturing me at the moment, why are you even doing this,” Harry gestured to the space around them, “Because I have enough on my plate as it is without you invading my dreams to taunt me or whatever,”
“Is that court date of yours weighing down your mind,” Voldemort asked, almost casually, as if talking to a friend
“How do you…wait. Let me guess, Malfoy’s dad told you about it,” Harry groused
“Naturally. That and I do have other eyes and ears within the Ministry. Why you are worried is beyond me. The evidence they have against you is, a best, circumstantial. Not only does the Ministry have proof that several Dementors were missing from Azkaban, but considering that the muggle you performed magic in front of is your cousin there should be no cause for you to worry,”
“You’d think that, but some prat resurrected himself with my blood earlier this year and when I tried to tell people about it the Ministry branded me a liar,” the words were bitter coming from Harry’s lips, “My friend is sure this is just their attempt at silencing me. They aren’t even allowing anyone to represent or aid me in court, have to do that myself,”
Harry eventually found himself back at the front of the classroom, slipping into the desk right in front of Voldemort. It wasn’t his usual place in this particular room, but he had found himself gravitating more and more to sitting closer to the man. He still didn’t care for him, but venting to him at least brought some form of catharsis.
“This is more than likely true. It is just like Fudge and his current administration to just sweep problems under the rug to keep hold of the public eye. The man is spineless and is not fit to lead the Wixen population of Britain,”
“Oh, and you are? Fudge may be spineless, but at least he doesn’t want to eliminate entire groups of people for simple existing,”
“And once again you have reduced my entire ethos down to killing individuals,” Voldemort complained
For the nights that Harry could remember talking with Voldemort, this has been their pattern. The two would banter, and Harry would complain about being stuck in his dream with a madman. Voldemort would make threats against his friend's lives while asking where he was. Eventually, it would spill out into, of all things, their ideologies.
“To maintain a population of Wixen that is heavily steeped in our culture and understanding, we have to remove those that would threaten it. Muggleborns, by their very nature, do not belong within our world,”
“And yet they do have magic. Also, who is we in this statement? So far it seems like it is just you and the sycophants that you’ve fooled into joining your cause,” Harry shot right back, glaring up at the man from his desk
“I did not trick a single one of my followers. They flocked to me because I offered them a true path towards the betterment of our kind,”
“Pretty sure most of them just wanted an excuse to kill people. I don’t think any sane person would join a group called ‘Death Eaters’ if they didn’t want to cause some death,”
Voldemort gave Harry a look, one the teen couldn’t read, not that he was ever able to understand the facial expressions on the Dark Lord's face.
“Be that as it may, the only solution to the preservation of our magic and our culture is to stop those that wish to do away with our rites in favor of embracing Muggle traditions,” Voldemort crossed his arms and looked down at Harry, a smug smile on his face as if he had just bested the young man.
“Or we could teach Muggleborns about our world. Instead of going out the way to exclude them from a part of who they are,” Harry said simply
“This would do nothing to stop them bringing Muggle ideas and concepts into our world. Not to mention what you are proposing would fly in the face of every Pure Blood within our government. Our worlds are not compatible, not when Muggles destroy themselves for petty reasons,” there was a deep sound of pain and resentment that Voldemort could not keep out of his voice.
“While you aren’t wrong, Muggles are dealing with so many other problems besides trying to destroy themselves. Mostly aliens and how to handle mutants existing. And don’t get me started on the evil robot who tried to destroy the world not too long ago,”
“What are you saying Potter,” Voldemort demanded
“The world is shrinking around us. Any day now, someone with more power than us is going to stumble across our world and there is no way Wixen kind will come out on top in that battle. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding and try to be a part of the world at large,”
Harry knew that his words were going to fall on deaf ears. He was fully aware that, at the end of the day, he was still talking to a madman who started a war in a bid for Wixen supremacy. Yet, that didn’t matter right now. Blame it on having been brow beaten by the Dursleys for years or finding out that his parents were a literal god and a superhero, but Harry didn’t want to hide what he was. No one should.
“Your ideas are hopelessly naïve Potter. Muggles will not look upon us kindly, no matter what we do. It is not in their nature to understand that which is beyond them,”
Harry knew that an impasse had once again been reached in their conversation. He had little hope of actually changing the man’s mind, but it was always worth a shot. At least it was better than how their conversations used to go. Harry was more than happy to discuss this if it meant not having to wake up in pain because Voldemort got a bit too torture happy.
“That being said, I will take your words into the smallest amount of consideration. If I am to have you at my side, it would do me well to consider your words and their meanings,”
“I’m not joining you. Not only that, you don’t want me to join you, you just want me for my blood,” Harry held a disgusted look on his face as he thought about the man’s intent to get his blood again.
“Your blood may be the key to my power, but I know we could accomplish much more when you are where you belong. At my side. No matter, that will come later. I shall also have to do something about your representation in court. Consider it a…gesture of good faith,”
Harry was going to comment; the words were right there on his lips. As he looked at Voldemort, those red eyes seemed to overtake his vision. He faintly heard the man’s voice say something before he found himself falling into a warm void of nothingness.
And then he woke up.
Harry fidgeted around as he tried to get adjusted to the weight of the robes he wore. Having only really worn wixen robes when it was mandatory for classes, Harry found the dress ones Loki had conjured for him to be just a bit cumbersome.
“How do you expect me to run in these,” he had complained as Loki wove what he claimed to be fine Asgardian silk into a lavish-looking dress robe with his magic.
“These, Harry, are not meant for running. You are about to appear before the entire Wizengamot and while I do not, for a single moment, believe you are going to be found guilty, appeasing them by not showing up in Muggle clothing will aid you,” Loki reasoned as he looked over Harry with a considering glance
“I look like Malfoy. Hell, I feel like that posh git. This is just way too much; can’t I just wear my school robes? Or the one I had from the Yule-,” An image of Cedric dancing happily last year flashed across his mind. Followed closely by that of his dead body.
“You are Asgardian royalty, we do not wear the same outfit twice if we can avoid it,” Loki responded, “My mother would have a fit if I didn’t at least attempt to make you look presentable,”
A slim smile came across Harry’s face as Loki spoke of his Frigga. In the few short days since he found out the man was his biological father, Harry had been treated to many a story of Loki’s life on Asgard. Almost all of his stories were about his brother doing something extremely foolhardy or his mother being a tender soul. Those had been his favorite stories so far. Harry had no idea how he felt about Loki, he was still grappling with the fact this had been the same man who had led the invasion of New York. So far, the man was warming up to him.
Calling him father though, that still felt like a distant thing.
Harry couldn’t help but reflect on those shades of green and icy blue that had filled his void when he was still in that coma. Those emotions were deep and complex and left him feeling no longer alone. Loved. Cared for. While he wasn’t an expert on things of the metaphysical, Harry was more than sure what he had been seeing and feeling was Loki. He felt all of this care and love coming from the man yet Harry didn’t know how to process something so…overwhelming. The more he thought about it, the harder it was to reconcile that the man who was tending to his robes with joy lighting his emerald eyes, actually cared about him.
Someone who loved him unconditionally was just too hard of a concept to grasp.
“There. Now, seeing as you are worried about having to run, I have taken the liberty to weave a few spells into the fabric. One of which will adjust the length and cut of the robes on the off chance you need to get somewhere quickly. As well as a few…others that you will hopefully not need,”
“Any chance you can tell me what they are or,” Harry trailed off, earning him a simple smirk from Loki.
“Nothing dangerous. At least it wasn’t Tony who saw to you. He wanted to fit you with a suit of armor, though there is no telling if it would even stand up to the density of magic in the courtroom,”
“Hmm, well all he would have to do is find a way to combat the frequency of energy that magic produces. I’ve been working on it off and on whenever I could escape to my lab. Well, it was a shack but it served its purpose. The only thing preventing technology from working in the presence of magic is that energy frequency that just seems to clash with most electronics,” Harry began to talk at speed, barely taking a breath.
He failed to notice Loki who looked up at him as he spoke, most of the teen's words not making much sense to him. Yet, his smile never wavered as he kept rapt attention on Harry.
“-and with the right equipment I am pretty sure we can integrate a sort of anti-magic barrier of sorts. Or at least something that shields tech-and I’ve lost you,” Harry trailed off as he finally took notice of Loki smiling up at him.
“While I am not the most knowledgeable when it comes to technology, it does not mean I won’t listen to you talk about it. Your father is the same way. You both get that spark in your eyes and I find it hard to turn away. Seeing you both so happy and at ease,”
Harry felt something akin to tears wanting to well up in his eyes as he felt his heart practically in his throat.
“Loki…I-,”
“Well, looks like you clean up pretty nice kid. Though I am not digging the green and gold look. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Loki is trying to turn you into him,” Tony came walking out jovially.
Harry looked over at Tony as he entered the sitting room, the man dressed about as fashionable as he could. Harry didn’t know much about brand names or labels, but he could tell most of what Tony was wearing was very pricey. The colors, however, were another choice altogether.
“I mean, if you had fixed me up I would at least look like a Gryffindor, even if by accident,” Harry smirked
“And this is why you have to be my kid. You ended up in the house that is all about bravery and sports my colors. Wonder if they will let me try on that talking hat to get sorted,” Tony’s entire tone was rather jovial and upbeat, reminding Harry of Sirius ever so slightly as he smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on his crimson and gold suit.
‘It is time we purge you of all your disgusting blood and remake you in our image’
Harry could not keep himself from wincing as the memory played across his mind, a chill rushing along his spine.
“Is everything okay, Harry,” Loki snapped Harry out of his mind, “If you are uncomfortable I am sure we can find a color scheme that works better for you,”
“No. No, it’s fine. Honest,” Harry quickly said, “Besides, that hat said I belonged in Slytherin at first, so I suppose the robes fit. Can we not fight about it? Please,”
Both adults shared a look that went over Harry’s head, making his anxiety start to rise even more.
Before either one of them could speak, Harry started first,
“I left something in my room. I’ll be right back,” he had barely finished speaking before he was almost halfway to his room.
The room itself wasn’t anything special. Tony had said this place wasn’t designed for a long-term stay and that when they got home Harry would have a real room. That still felt off to him. That any adult would give someone like him a room. Sure, he may be smart and all, but he was still a problem. An issue. A troublesome freak that got people killed or in serious danger.
‘Kill the spare’
The moment he was in his room, the boy took a breath, trying to steady his nerves. He had far larger problems to worry about than how he felt around Tony and Loki. No. It was best to put those thoughts aside and focus on today. Get through today and then deal with everything else after.
The undecorated room held only a few items to fill it out, including a sofa of reasonable comfort. With very little stuff of his own, the majority of his belongs still trapped in Number 12, there was very little marking the room as Harry’s. At least Hedwig wasn’t among the stuff there. She had found her way back to the Burrow and Harry was happy for that.
His eyes went over to the small side table next to his bed. There, upon its surface sat the locket. Ever since getting it back when he got off the medical wing, Harry had yet to put it on. He could still feel its emotions and thoughts when he got close. The locket had been both upset and worried when it had been pulled away from him. If Harry didn’t know any better, the thing was trying to guilt him over not being able to keep him safe. That was the entire reason why Harry hadn’t worn the thing.
What little he could recall of his escape from Number 12 involved feeling the locket pulling on his magic. A lot. The entire reason it seemed he was able to even evade anyone finding him for so long had been his body being forced to apparate by the locket. That was just his hunch, but Harry knew he had never made the choice to do so. There was something about having an item that could just latch onto his magic and use it at will that made Harry all the warier.
Yet, he could not deny the fact that a part of him missed that bit of constant contact. The locket wasn’t malicious, at least not from what Harry had seen. Possessive, sure, but not malicious. There had been something about it that made a part of Harry feel whole in a way. Like the locket was meant to be a part of him in some way or fashion. It made no sense to Harry but that was the best way to put it.
Before he had even reached out, he could feel the locket almost vibrating with enjoyment at being worn again.
“Yeah, yeah. No pulling on my magic this time, alright? I’m already having to go on trial for using magic as it is,” Harry muttered to the object as he slipped it over his shoulders.
It was always strange how something that felt heavy in his hands could feel so much lighter when on his shoulders.
Safe. Healed? Better? The locket's questions were coming down their connection rapidly.
“Yes, I’m fine. Healed up too. I’m with-,” the word family rose and died on his tongue, “I’m with some people. Safe people,”
Ring gone. Foolish child. Almost died.
“Oh, not you too,” he muttered under his breath before turning to leave the room, stopping at a mirror first, “It’s bad enough that sorcerer bloke and Loki lectured me about misusing runes,”
Still foolish. I protect. No more pain.
Harry didn’t know how to reply to that one, instead, he merely sent a pulse of thanks down their connection before looking himself over in the mirror. His first assessment was that he looked like Malfoy hadn’t been too far off. The green robes with their golden filigree had Harry feeling like he was trying to take Malfoy’s claim as the ‘Slytherin Prince’. Though he had to at least agree with Loki, they did suit him to some degree. Wearing clothing that was made for him and not a hand-me-down did more for his looks than he thought. However, as he spotted the locket, he felt the large S made to look like a snake was a touch too much.
Proper look. Should be proud. You’d make a great Slytherin.
“Right, that’s enough out of you,” Harry hissed as he stashed the locket underneath the collared shirt Loki insisted he wear with his robes.
Doing his best to ignore the amused hissing laughter coming from the locket, Harry finally left his room only to bump into someone just as he was leaving.
“Oof. Sorry about that. Oh! Harry,” came the rather happy voice of Peter, sending a rising blush across Harry’s face.
Peter had been, as the only teenager when Hermione left, the person he had spent the majority of his short time in the compound with. He had an almost boundless sense of energy at times, something Harry likened to a very excitable puppy. Harry also couldn’t help but find that to be rather endearing in a way.
He was not going to crush on the teen who dressed in red and blue spandex to fight crime. Not at all.
Cute boy. You like him.
“Hey Peter,” Harry said much louder than he wanted as if trying to cover up the locket’s words even though he was the only one who could hear them, “What brings you over here,”
“Oh, I just thought I’d wish you well. I know Mr. Stark and Mr. Loki have been pacing around since before the sun came up so I figured you’d probably be nervous too. I thought about going to check up on you when I heard them up, but I thought that would have been weird. So, I thought I’d try to catch you now, but then I heard this hissing. So, I started looking around for whatever it was and then I bumped into you and now here we are and-,”
Peter was heavily animated as he spoke, his hands and arms constantly moving as he told Harry a rambling tale that gave away his nerves. Harry wasn’t going to find it cute. Not, not at all.
You should kiss him.
“No!” Harry shouted, causing Peter to startle slightly,
“So, you don’t want the wheat cakes. Gotcha, that’s fine. Aunt May’s recipes aren’t for everyone,”
“No. Not no to you,” Harry quickly back-peddled, doing his level best to keep himself composed, “I’d love to try the wheat cakes but we are about to leave in a bit and I don’t want them to go to waste,”
“Well, I could save them for after? I know they’re breakfast food, but maybe they could be celebration cakes. For when you get done with whatever this magic trial stuff is for,”
“That sounds perfect. Thanks, Peter. I should-,” Harry vaguely gestured behind the other teen, towards the rest of the hallway Peter was blocking.
An awkward dance ensured as both boys tried their best to make room for the other while also trying to move forward. At some point, they managed to get on the other side of each other. Harry’s face felt hot, flushed with something he couldn’t describe. He looked over at Peter who just had an almost sheepish look on his face. Harry felt something race along his spine as he looked at the other boy, something he quickly pushed to the side as he gave a small wave before returning to the sitting room.
The entire time Harry could feel the locket laughing in what could charitably be called a caring chuckle.
When he returned to the room, Harry was greeted by the faces of Shacklebolt and Madame Bones, both of whom were engaged in a conversation with Tony and Loki. All eyes turned on him as he stepped into the room, whatever the conversation had been about was abandoned.
“Alright kiddo, these two have got us set up to travel to the Ministry. I still think the idea of fireplaces working as two-way teleportation is insane, but apparently, that’s just how things work in your world,” Tony had a look on his face, brows furrowed in concentration. No doubt he was trying to figure out how the floo network worked, something Harry hadn’t been able to figure out beyond it just being magic.
“The more you think about it, the less sense it makes. Best to just go with the flow,” Loki chimed in as he gave Harry another once over, “Are you ready to go Harry? Madame Bones has the floo to keyed to drop us off in her office. Best to avoid the public,”
Harry felt the weight of his wand in his robes. The feeling of the worn holly wood and the warmth that it brought when he touched it was a sensation that he could never truly describe. It was as if he was touching something alive and it sang throughout his body. It was something he never wanted to lose. And now here he was, about to face down the barrel so to speak. Harry knew, in his heart, that he was nowhere near ready.
“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go,” Harry forced himself to say before any other parts of his mind could tell him otherwise
“I…you don’t have to come with me you know. I’ll be fine on my own,” Harry looked over at Tony and Loki, both of them looking back at Harry with some confusion.
“Kiddo, even if we didn’t have our reasons for having to come along, you’re our kid. We aren’t just going to let you walk into the sharp teeth of the law by yourself. That’s not what family is supposed to do,” Tony said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
For once, the seemingly endless well of snark that Harry often had at his disposal dried up. Not even a self-deprecating comment would come to rise from his lips as he found himself mentally repeating what Tony had said.
Just like Loki, Harry had no idea what to think about the man who seemed to care about him just for simply existing.
Setting his jaw, Harry pulled on his courage and nodded at Madame Bones, who seemed to be the one waiting for the okay. The woman pulled a bag from her robes and tossed its contents into the fire. The moment the floo powder contacted the flames, the fire turned a bright green and cast its glow into the room.
“Seeing as this floo is connected to my office only, there is no need for us to use the floo powder one at a time. Just step through the flames and wait for me there. Once we are all present, we will take you to the courtroom while Loki and Tony are prepared for their case afterward,”
“Case? What case are you talking about,” Harry asked as he waited behind Shaklebolt who stepped first through the floo to ensure that the office was completely clear.
“Just the one to make sure that you can stay with us kiddo,” Tony absently answered as he watched Madame Bones step into the floo next, “Wixen seem to be very protective when it comes to families, bloodlines, and where children end up. So, we have got to get those messes taken care of so we can finally go home. No offense to you all, but London has nothing on New York,”
Questions began to stir in Harry’s mind, ones he wanted answers for right then and there. Yet, as he looked at the flames waiting for him to step through, he knew they could wait. However, some part of him was filled with worry at whatever case Loki and Tony had to deal with to keep them together. It was a pit in his stomach, one filled with a fear he couldn’t fully articulate.
The thoughts were pushed from his mind as he stepped through the flames, finding himself tumbling about for a moment in space before being spat back out on the other side, almost literally. The teen had come falling out of the floo and onto a heap on Madame Bones’ floor. Taking the hand offered by Shacklebolt, Harry pulled himself to his feet.
The office was sparely decorated, with just a few pictures on the desk, one of which was of a witch Harry vaguely recalled seeing in a few of his classes. On the walls were several articles, most of which concerned cases that Harry knew nothing about. Beyond that, there was very little to divine any real details about just who Madame Bones was. It was such a stark contrast to Dumbledore’s office, the only other one Harry could compare it to.
Harry was pulled to the side as Loki strode out of the floo, pausing to only flip his hair back in a fashion that was far too dramatic for what had just transpired. He seemed to know this as well, giving Harry a mirthful smirk before extending his hands out to catch Tony. Much like Harry, the man had practically fallen out of the floo with little to no coordination.
“Able to fly that metal machine of yours with the utmost grace, and yet can’t manage floo travel with flailing about. Whatever shall I do with you Anthony,” came the loving banter from Loki as Tony pulled himself out of the man’s arms
“Oh, I’m sure we could think of a few things. Though after I find a bucket to hurl into,” Tony’s face had a green tinge to it and he looked ready to make good on his words, his eyes darting towards a wastebasket by the desk.
Before he could so much as dash for it, Madame Bones brandished her wands and said a spell Harry hadn’t heard before. A burst of soft white light drifted over Tony and the man lost the sickly glint in his eyes,
“Wow. Now if you could find a way to package that for hangover you’ll be a hit at parties,” Tony joked as he began to try and dust off the soot that covered his suit.
“While we do have hangover cures, I’d rather not have bodily fluids of any kind inside of the waste basket Mr. Stark. Now we have many things we need to attend to. If all goes well, young Mr. Potter will be returning home with you both as well as being able to keep his wand. Speaking of, it seems you have been assigned a representative,”
Harry looked over at Madame Bones as she addressed him, feeling slightly confused by her words.
“You mean there’s a chance I won’t go back with them,” Harry asked, sounding far more worried than he honestly wanted to.
“A slim chance. As far as I understand it, the only two parties that are seeking guardianship of you do not have strong enough legs to stand on. As long as Loki and Mr. Stark do not go off the rails, then I am sure the Wizengamot will have no problem giving both your parents proper custody,” Madame Bones spoke with such a matter-of-fact tone that Harry felt there was little doubt.
Even though he could feel the doubt all the same.
He had only been around Tony and Loki for a scant few days, most of them spent in the infirmary. Yet, in those few days, he felt safer than he ever had at any other point during the summers before. Not just safer, but listened to. As far as he knew, the only other option he would have would be the Dursleys. The thought of returning to them, after all that he had put them through was daunting. Not just daunting, but horrifying. His Uncle’s wrath could only be tempered for so long, and if Harry were to show back up on those steps again.
The world seemed to shrink in on itself as the thoughts spiraled in his mind, the words of someone calling his name a distant echo. Even the worried thoughts of the locket seemed to be lost in the haze of fear that claimed his mind.
‘You freak! I’ll show you what happens when you think you're better than us’
‘You can’t leave. We can’t have your freakishness rubbing off on our little Dudders’
‘Such a useless whelp. Only as good as the bitch of a mother he has, brother dear.’
The voices of what were supposed to be his family came crashing down his mind. He was so foolish to think that he would have anything other than them. That he could ever escape them. He could feel the walls around him closing in, his mind being forced back under the stairs. Hidden. Forgotten. Ignored.
From behind his closed eyes, he saw them. The splashes of cooling blue and green. He felt the paradoxical warmth coming from those colors. Mixed with them were swirls of glinting gold and red, a tang of metal complementing the soothing cold of the others. Something about how they felt, how they wrapped around him, began to bring Harry back down. The colors coaxed him to open his eyes, the sound of the world coming back into focus.
“-and come back around. We got ya kiddo,” came the voice of Tony, the man’s hand tenderly grasping at his shoulders.
“We aren’t going anywhere,” Loki spoke from in front of him, the man’s cool hands holding tightly to Harry’s, “No matter what happens if you want to stay with us I will use the might of Asgard to make it so,”
As the world became clearer, Harry was aware of his eyes watering, tears on the verge of breaking free and trailing down his face. Blinking them away, he took a look at Loki holding his hands, kneeling in front of him. Behind the man, Kingsley and Madame Bones had looks of concern on their faces and it sent a ripple of self-awareness through Harry. Quickly he pulled his hands free, trying to compose himself as best as he could.
“Sorry about that. I-those have been happening now and again,” the teen supplied as an embarrassed blush crawled along his face
“Be that as it may,” Madame Bones spoke, easily drawing the attention of the room, “It would do you well to maintain these emotional moments until after your trial. While I am not one to recommend bottling emotions, I would not put it beyond Fudge to use them against you in some shape or form,”
Harry nodded in response, running over mental calculations in his head to keep his thoughts off of more emotional trigger points.
“Right. The trial is in half an hour. Your representative will be waiting for you in room number 12. While I am aware that his…ideologies do not match alongside others, he is duty-bound by way of his seat within the Wizengamot to cause you no legal harm during your trial,”
“Right. And just who is the person that has ideological differences that is representing my son,” Tony questioned, leveling Madame Bones with an accusatory glare, “I’m not putting my kid's life in the hands of someone who even remotely thinks differently from him,”
“I assure Mr. Stark, Lucius Malfoy will not be a problem,” Kinglsey added, which seemed to be the straw that broke the dam
“Malfoy,” Harry hissed, “Why the hell would he even remotely want to represent me,”
“In his own words, he found the fact Fudge and the rest of the court’s refusal to appoint you someone as your representative distasteful,” Shacklebolt spoke, though it was clear there was heavy distrust of this statement in the way he spoke, “He feels that such a promising young mind should not have to face the full Wizengamot as it is, let alone without someone in their corner,”
“Isn’t Dumbledore able to do it instead? Why does it have to be Malfoy,” Harry tried not to sound like he was complaining, but he didn’t want to be involved with Malfoy. Let alone owe the man, which seemed like something he would try to claim.
“Dumbledore has a conflict of interest at the moment,” Madame Bones answered, “As for Malfoy himself, he fully understands that if he does anything untoward, he will be stripped of all his political power. I assure you, that man values his influence more than anything,”
Some thoughts were running through Harry’s mind, most of them concerning just what Malfoy was getting out of this. The only reason Harry could even think as to why the man was getting involved was that he had orders from good ol’ snake-face. Well, maybe not snake-face, but all the same it made the most sense to Harry. Tom did seem to just enjoy meddling with his life and this was very clearly another step in that direction. It would probably be smart to just tell Madame Bones about his connection with Voldemort and how Malfoy suddenly wanting to be his representative could be a trap.
On the other hand, if he did that it would only serve to make him look even more crazy to the rest of the Ministry. Both Madame Bones and Shacklebolt were on his side, and while they didn’t speak about his statement on the return of Voldemort at all, he was not going to risk losing them over this.
He could handle Malfoy and whatever little game that Voldemort was trying to play with him.
“Alright. Though if he tries anything weird, I make no promises I won’t jab him really hard with my wand,” Harry finally answered
“No need to worry about that Harry,” Loki gave what could best be called a conniving smile, “If Malfoy tries anything I assure you he will be dining with Surtur before you even have time to draw your wand,”
“No threatening members of the Wizengmot. At least not in my presence. I’m bending enough rules as it is,” Madame Bones muttered, though she did not seem put out by Loki’s declaration of potential revenge, “Mr. Potter, Kingsley will escort you to Mr. Malfoy. While I cannot offer any official consul, I do wish you well in your case,”
“Can’t Loki and Tony come with me,” Harry asked, hoping he didn’t sound like a desperate child
“No. It is better if I do it. Let’s get a move on Potter. As much as I enjoy making Lucius squirm, I do not desire to hear him complain about us being late,” Shacklebolt gestured towards the door as it swung open.
Harry gave Loki and Tony another glance, trying to figure out just what it was he wanted to say to them. He couldn’t parse just what the thought was, something he was not used to in the least bit. For now, he bundled it into the back of his mind for later. It wasn’t going to do him well at the moment anyway. Right now, he had a trial to focus on. As well as a Malfoy to endure.
Shacklebolt, or Kingsley as he continued to insist Harry call him, walked with purpose and determination. His steps were wide and he moved through the Ministry with ease, Harry having to pick up his speed just to keep pace. There was barely any time to properly take in his surroundings, at some point Harry recalled almost flying down several sets of steps. Eventually, they came to rest at a wooden door with the number 12 carved into the wood.
An unsettling reminder of Sirius that sent an icy pang of fear along his spine.
“Right. Once you get inside Harry, I would advise you to not provoke Lucius. Do what we all do when we have to work with that man-,”
“Imagine him being eaten alive by a dragon,” Harry muttered under his breath
“That is a favorite of Tonks. I prefer tom imagine him being used as a beater bat. Either way, he is supposed to be there to help you. Better to not provoke him into doing otherwise,”
That was all the advice Kingsley could give before the door to the room swung open and Lucius Malfoy could be seen sitting at a desk, scribbling away at a scroll in earnest. Knowing that he wasn’t going to get formally asked to enter, Harry strode in on his own, giving Kingsley a small nod before the door snapped shut behind him.
The room itself was quiet, bar the constant scratching of Malfoy’s quill and the crackling of logs in the floo. It was clear that this room was not the Malfoy patriarch's office, as it lacked any distinguishing features. That and Harry highly doubted the man would be able to stand the purple wallpaper that covered the walls. The brief meeting, he had with the man back in the second year colored his perception of what the man liked.
The scratching on parchment came to a stop, drawing Harry's full attention back onto Malfoy. The man was staring at him, those deep grey eyes burning a hole into Harry’s own. The boy did not back down from the challenge, keeping his gaze with the man constantly. Harry stood there and looked back at Lucius, waiting for the man to back down, daring him to do so. As he did, Harry felt something touching his mind. It was feeble, more like a light draft than anything substantial, but he felt it all the same. Reflexively he pulled his eyes away.
“Humph, most wizards know better than to stare into another’s eyes. Let alone an enemy who may be Legilimens,” Malfoy finally spoke, his voice as cruel and sharp as Harry recalled it being back during his second year.
“Legilimens? Were you trying to get into my head? It’s bad enough when your boss does it, so I’d prefer you not to do the same,” Harry shot back, already testing the limits of his promise to not antagonize the man.
“I would be cautious what you say within these walls. I hear the Ministry is not taking kindly to those who spout off lies of the Dark Lord's return,” Malfoy shot back
“And yet you didn’t deny he was your boss,”
Lucius bristled as Harry smirked before pulling out his wand in a dramatic flourish. Harry stiffened as the man began to wordlessly cast a privacy bubble around them. It was just small enough to contain the desk and the only other chair in the room.
“Sit you, insolent child,” the man demanded, and Harry did as such, not wanting to press his luck, “I have no idea why the Dark Lord impressed upon me the importance of helping you on this trial, but know I only do so on his orders. Were it not for those I would happily stun you and lay your body at his feet,”
“You say that and yet I have a feeling you know better than to try such a thing. And, seeing as we are being just so transparent with each other right now when you see Tom, tell him I do not appreciate him meddling in my life more than he already does,”
The look on Lucius’ face could best be described as scandalized as he looked down at Harry, clearly not expecting the level of cheek the boy was prepared to give. Let alone the way he referred to the Dark Lord. It was a look Harry was going to commit to memory and look back on whenever he had to deal with the man or his son ever again.
“Irksome whelp. The moment this farce of a trial is over I truly do hope the Dark Lord lifts his embargo on collecting you. I will highly enjoy bringing you to him,”
“Well until we cross that bridge, why don’t you obey your Master and prepare me for this trial? If I end up with a snapped wand or stuck in Azkaban I am certain Tom will not take kindly to you,”
Harry hated going against his word to not antagonize Lucius but he wasn’t about to let the man talk down to him, let alone try and intimidate him. If it took threatening him with the only thing he was probably afraid of, the wrath of Voldemort, Harry was going to use it.
Hopefully, the man himself wouldn’t find out about it.
Lucius, doing his best to simmer down his ire, huffed between his teeth before undoing the silencing spell around them both. Shuffling around a few papers, he finally finds what he is looking for.
“Frankly, the fact that the Minister is breaking out the full court for this is utterly ridiculous. Not only is the Muggle in question of your blood, but children far older than you are have done far more gruesome magic and gotten away with it. Not to mention that the lie of you casting a corporeal Patronus while only a Fourth year is laughable,”
“But I did cast one,” Harry remarked matter-of-factly
“Excuse me, while I have heard tales of your exploits from various sources, none of them speak to an ability to cast magic that full-fledged Wixen have issues casting,”
“It’s the truth. It wasn’t my normal Patronus, but it was mine all the same. Nothing about what I did was a lie. I cast that spell to fight off the Dementors that came for myself and my cousin,”
Lucius fixed Harry with an inscrutable look, one that the boy couldn’t fully parse.
“Be that as it may, I imagine Fudge, or more specifically, Umbridge will attempt to claim you are not capable of such feats. Anything to not only discredit your actual abilities but also paint you as a lair to the rest of the Wizengamot. I would suggest not falling for any of her petty pushes at your words. Her goal is more than likely going to be getting you upset enough to seem like the sort of child who would cast spells recklessly,”
“Why didn’t this happen when I blew up my Aunt two years ago? Most I got from that was a slap on the wrist from Fudge. Hell, the man was just happy to see me back then,”
“Yes, well you hadn’t said anything that could threaten his claims of peacetime. Not only that, but a bout of accidental magic does not carry the same weight as knowingly casting a spell in front of a Muggle. Speaking of, will your cousin be a problem,” Lucius seemed to growl in an almost distaste as he spoke about Dudley
“What do you mean by problem,” Harry demanded
“I mean will he be spouting off about utter nonsense while taking the stand? He is the only witness to what occurred and his words will be the only real defense we have beyond your statement. Do you feel your muggle cousin will be of actual help to your case, or will he be nothing more than a detriment like the rest of his kind”?
Harry didn’t know at what point he had stood up, all he was aware was of a cold and biting rage that was storming within him. His hands had clenched the sides of Malfoy’s desk, small splinters forming from the pressure he was exerting. All the while, a chill began to fill the air.
“Don’t you dare talk about Dudley like that,” Harry’s words were not above a whisper, but dripped with icy venom all the same, “He has been the only person in that hell hole I lived in who treats me like a person,”
Malfoy, wand drawn and pointed directly at Harry, watched in slight fear and trepidation as the boy’s eyes seemed to glow with a depth of fiery magic he couldn’t understand. He glanced at the boy’s hands on his desk and saw a creeping frost coming from them.
“Wh…what are you,” Lucius whispered.
At those words, Harry seemed to come back to his senses. The chill and frost vanished as if they were never there, and the glowing magic within his eyes disappeared.
“Sorry. I-I don’t like it when people talk about those that I care about. They can’t always take it like I can,” Harry’s tone had become more reserved than what it was just moments before. Far more guarded and missing the bite.
“Ri-right,” Lucius finally got a hold of his composure, stashing his wand away once more, “I would recommend stowing away this…anger of yours when Umbridge provokes you. It will not end well for you,”
While Lucius spoke, Harry was mulling over what he had just felt. Much like that moment in Grimmauld and even the entire reason he was here, fighting off the Dementors, he had pulled on magic he knew nothing about. He could still feel that oddly comforting cold from it, a paradoxical warmth that chilled him pleasantly. It didn’t feel wrong or evil, like how he imagined it was like to use darker magic, but it did make him worry. Perhaps, if he didn’t end up in Azkaban or with a snapped wand, he would ask that sorcerer bloke about it.
Or, if he was being honest, it would be smarter to ask Loki.
“Well, it seems it is time we make our appearance,” the voice of Lucius cut through Harry’s thoughts as he looked over at the man who was consulting a pocket watch, “Once again, stick to the truth and do not let them provoke you into anger. You falling for that is their only real move it seems to pin you down as a violent wixen. I would also suggest, that if the subject of a supposed return of a Dark Lord comes up, you tell them the truth,”
Lucius fixed Harry with a look that the boy understood to mean he should do the opposite. Frankly, he had no intention of mentioning Voldemort at all during the trial, but if it were to come up? Well, Harry hated being called a liar, and that was probably going to be his undoing if he didn’t at least try to heed Lucius’s words.
“If they ask what should I do? Tell them that it has nothing to do with my case,” Harry half-joked
“While not tactful, it would be your best play. Now, if you don’t have any further questions, I suggest we get this over with. And Potter,”
Lucius stood and reached for the wall behind him, a doo materializing from nowhere. He gestured for Harry to come forth, the teen walking over as Lucius held it open. The man stopped Harry from going all the way through with his free arm,
“While I may be forced to kowtow to my Master’s whims, do not think for a second we are on the same side. This is merely a professional courtesy,”
“Well, if we ever end up at each other’s throats, I’ll be sure to keep that just as professional,” Harry bit back.
Lucius didn’t respond, merely let Harry walk past as he the door shut behind them both. The elder wizard led the way down another set of steps and into an imposing atrium. There was only one real door to speak of, and it was already open as if waiting for Harry. He could already hear voices chattering softly as he got closer, hearing his name more often than he would prefer.
You will be fine. I am here with you. I will protect you.
The lockets words were enough to calm down Harry’s nerves and focus less on the chattering voices. All he had to do was go in there and tell them the truth. Or at least as much of it that wouldn’t land him in more trouble than he already was.
No pressure.
“Alright Harry, you’ve faced far worse than this. Let’s get this done,” he said out loud, before striding fully into the court, the doors closing behind him.