Chapter 28
Harry followed her, and Blaise followed him. She opened the door to a room full of more people than Harry expected. There were two seats left open for him and Blaise. Harry first spotted the Minister, to whom he nodded, and then a bunch of people that he didn't recognize. He did notice Draco Malfoy and Neville’s grandmother as a part of the representatives from the Wizengamot. Hermione was also there, sitting with the Minister, taking notes.
He saw Kingsley and then his eyes traveled over to someone who made his blood run cold. He stopped in his tracks as all of his previous calmness fled from him. He felt his back meet Blaise's chest as he took a step back. His magic lashed out dangerously around the room, and he was vaguely aware of several people flinching. His ears roared as his emerald eyes met the icy blue eyes hidden behind half-moon glasses.
"Harry, my boy, I'm so glad you could join us," Dumbledore said. Harry felt his heart pounding in his chest as he stared. He knew he had to speak, but he was terrified. He was livid. He had so many emotions rushing through him that he didn't know what to say to the man standing in front of him, smiling kindly, a wolf in sheep's clothing.
He instead turned to look at the Minister. "I told you I didn't want him here." He said it confidently, with no room for anyone to doubt the strength behind his words. He was completely faking the strength. He wanted to run away or cry. He was taking his strength from Blaise standing just behind him.
"You did Harry, but well, he heard what had happened, and..." Fudge said nervously. Harry wanted to roll his eyes. The Minister was supposed to be the strongest man in this country, and here he was caught between Harry and Dumbledore, too scared to do anything that might anger either one of them. He was weak, and Harry felt slight revulsion.
"I apologize Harry, I was unaware that you did not want me here, but as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I should be in attendance,” Dumbledore said with false kindness. It made Harry’s skin crawl, “Please take a seat.”
Everyone else sat down, but Dumbledore and Harry remained standing. Blaise still stood behind him, taking cues from Harry. Harry was absolutely not going to do a single thing that Dumbledore told him to do. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to stay for the meeting.
“You first,” Harry challenged. Dumbledore raised one eyebrow. Harry was sure that he wasn’t told what to do very often.
“Harry, my-”
“If you call me your boy one more time I will walk out of this room and not help any of you,” Harry said quickly. The rest of the room teetered nervously. Harry felt Blaise place a discreet hand on the small of his back for support. Harry felt himself falling into his old persona that he had used with Darla’s team. Rebellious, young, confident, and unhurtable. It was easier to do that than let Dumbledore see his weaknesses.
Dumbledore sighed and then gathered himself, “Perhaps you and I need to have a private conversation, it seems we have some things to work out.”
“Not a chance, sit down,” Harry commanded. Dumbledore’s eyes were hard. They looked around the room. Harry wasn’t sure what he saw, but he decided to sit down. Harry cautiously made his way into the room and took his seat, which was thankfully far across the table from the old man. Blaise sat next to him.
“Alright,” Kingsley said awkwardly, still looking between the headmaster and Harry, “Well I don’t think we need to do introductions, but we have a lot to talk about. Minister, anything you want to start with?”
“I want to thank everyone for being here so quickly under the circumstances,” Fudge said, standing and puffing his chest, “These are dark times, and we need to work together to bring an end to the violence.” Harry didn’t miss the way that the Minister seemed to be speaking directly to him. He resisted rolling his eyes again. In other words, Fudge wanted him to fix their problems. Again.
“Could we get an update on what the situation is?” Draco Malfoy spoke when the Minister sat down. Harry was impressed by how professional and intelligent he looked. He had grown up.
“Yes, so as you all know, there was another attack today,” Kingsley spoke, “With the help of Auror Weasley, Mr. Zabini, and most importantly Harry Potter, we were able to apprehend our first Death Eaters today. We have seven in the holding room downstairs. It was estimated that five got away.”
“Damages?” Malfoy asked, taking his own notes.
“Unclear yet, there were three shops that looked to be in the most danger, but we didn’t have any casualties. There were no Death Eater casualties either,” Kingsley said efficiently. Harry decided that he liked him.
“So what does that put us at now?” another Wizengamot member asked.
“We had estimated that there were around 25-30 of them. So we still have a large number to deal with,” Kingsley admitted, “Though, having some in custody to interrogate largely helps us.”
“Are interrogations going on now?” the Minister asked.
“Yes, we’ve brought in Alastor Moody to head them up,” Kingsley nodded, “He’s down there now.”
“Good,” The Minister nodded, “Now, we’ve called this meeting to discuss mainly you, Harry, and how you’d like to contribute, if at all. Do you have any questions right away?”
Harry sat back in his chair and surveyed the room, “No. You’ve called me here to ask for help. Ask, and then I might have questions.”
“Well Harry, we know you defeated the previous Dark Lord, and we were wondering if you might have any expertise on the matter that would help here?” Kingsley asked.
“I don’t think I know anything that would help you find them. I didn’t deal with Death Eaters. My main focus was Voldemort himself, and he’s gone,” Harry said, and then with more bite, “I was also fourteen. Maybe you should ask someone more experienced.”
“Of course, of course,” Fudge said nervously, like he was worried that they had offended Harry, “Well, then there’s the matter of your… magical prowess.”
Harry simply stared at him, waiting for him to say more.
“Harry, I’ve found myself in your position a few times over the years,” Dumbledore began. Harry refused to look at him, “They’re asking what you’re capable of doing to help them… apprehend the Death Eaters and stop the attacks.”
“I am aware that is what they are asking,” Harry said coldly, “What I am wondering, is what exactly they want me to do. I will not be leaving this meeting to go track down the Death Eaters and dispose of them so that you can all wash your hands of the problem. So, what do you want to ask of me? What can I do for you that your aurors cannot? Or that he can not?” He tilted his chin in Dumbledore’s direction, refusing to say his name.
“One proposed idea was that we would give you an alerter similar to the ones that the aurors carry. This would allow you to know when there is an attack,” Kingsley said, “And potentially allow you to know when we think we have a lead that we’d like to track down. You managed the scene today more efficiently than our entire force combined. And Albus has made it clear that he is not as able as he used to be.”
Harry wanted to scoff at that, but instead nodded thoughtfully, “And… if I were to accept this, who would I listen to? Report to?”
“Well, the head auror on the scene I would suppose,” the Minister said, “Though you would be free to use your own discretion on the course of best action.”
“Are there certain… guidelines that I would have to follow?” Harry asked.
“What do you mean?” Kingsley asked.
“I am aware that the auror department has rules about how to handle certain situations. I am not an auror, and do not have their training. My methods might be… unorthodox to say the least,” Harry said.
“Well yes, we do have certain protocols,” Kingsley said, “However you would be given more leniency due to the special nature of your magic.”
Harry shook his head, “I’m going to need something more concrete than ‘leniency’. If I am going to help you, I’m going to need assurances that I will not end up being prosecuted for the magic or methods that I choose to use.”
“What methods would you use that you could be prosecuted for?” Dumbledore asked, “I do hope you aren’t talking about dark magic.”
Harry looked him in the eye for the first time, “I do not actively plan on using dark magic. I do not plan on using any magic that would allow me to be prosecuted through the law. However, if my life, or someone else who I care about is in danger, I will use any methods necessary to protect us.”
“That is a very dangerous-” Dumbledore tried to say.
Harry cut him off and ignored him, “Additionally, I want there to be no room for any of you to decide later that I am too much of a threat and ship me off to Azkaban on some gray area loophole in the law that allows you to dispose of anyone you don’t like.”
“Why would anyone do that Harry? Come now, let’s not be dramatic,” Dumbledore said, still calm but Harry could see his patience was wearing.
“You asked for my help,” Harry said to the Minister, “These are some of my terms. I don’t need to explain them. You can take it or leave it.”
“Some? Are there more?” Fudge asked, almost looking like he was sweating now.
“Yes. In addition to freedom to use my magic as I see fit, and the guarantee that I will not be prosecuted, which I want in writing, we need to discuss my compensation,” Harry said.
“Harry, you have been asked to do a service to your country, stop with these selfish demands,” Dumbledore said firmly, his patience finally gone. Harry’s magic reared.
“I don’t even want you here,” Harry hissed, “How dare you tell me what to do?”
“You are being a brat. Grow up and help,” Dumbledore said back. His own magic seemed to come out a bit as well, reminding Harry how powerful the old man was. Everyone else seemed to shrink away from the table but Harry did not back down.
“You of all people know why I am doing this,” Harry growled, “The last time that I did an act of service for this country, I ended up in a dungeon being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.”
There were gasps through the room.
“There were misunderstandings-” Dumbledore said with a raised voice. Harry raised his as well and stood. The rest of the room no longer mattered.
“You will never tell me what to do again. You are an old man who has manipulated this whole world into trusting you,” Harry seethed.
“Harry!” Dumbledore stood, his magic rattling the windows now too, “Stop with the lies and propaganda! I have only ever done what is best for the greater good!”
Harry felt insane laughter bubble out of his mouth, “The greater good? Is that why you tried to kill me?”
The room reacted like a bomb had gone off. The windows shattered and wind whirled through, the others jumped up to get out of the way. Harry didn’t care. He cast a small protective charm on Blaise, wordlessly.
“What are you going on about? You’ve lost your mind,” Dumbledore defended.
“I was fourteen!” Harry told him.
“Maybe we should all take a moment to calm down,” Kingsley chimed in from the corner from where the rest of the wizards had gathered. He was ignored.
“You tried to kill me. And it didn’t work. Then, you told me to kill myself, and when I wouldn’t you sent me to the Death Eaters,” Harry said venomously, “Are you hoping that this time might actually do the trick?”
There was a flicker of something in Dumbledore’s eyes and Harry felt a stab of hurt through his chest. It had only been a guess, something that he threw out more in anger than anything else. But Dumbledore had confirmed it. He really wasn’t done trying to kill Harry.
For all of these years, Harry had hated him. Been afraid, been angry, been hurt. But there was always a slight voice that sounded like his eleven-year-old self telling him that Dumbledore had really done what he thought was right. For the greater good. He had been wrong, but he wasn’t evil.
Now though, Harry could see it all clearly. Dumbledore had been biding his time. He was hoping for the chance to kill Harry. Harry was a threat, whether he had a horcrux in his head or not.
Just as Harry had seen something in Dumbledore’s eyes, he watched as Dumbledore saw something in his. His blue eyes widened fractionally and hardened. Harry felt terror go through him the same way it had when he had stared into red eyes so long ago.
“Harry, stop this, these accusations are out of hand,” he said in a deadly calm voice. The magic stilled in the air, unnaturally so. It felt like there was almost no air to breathe.
Harry felt himself slipping. He was too angry. He was too afraid. He was hurt. He needed to get out of there. He was going to fall apart soon, and he would be damned if he let the old fool see it.
Without taking his eyes off of Dumbledore he said, “I will have my lawyer send a contract with terms I will agree to. There will be no negotiation. If you need to speak with me, send an owl. And if I ever walk into another room and this man is here without my consent, I will kill him. And then I will leave this country and never return. You’ll be dealing with the Death Eaters on your own.”
“Are you threatening me Harry? You wouldn’t kill me,” Dumbledore said. Harry could feel the slightest tang of fear in the air.
“I am promising you that I would. You know that I could,” Harry said. He felt sure of it, and by the look in those blue eyes, Dumbledore did too.
“I think that we should adjourn this m-meeting,” Fudge squeaked from the corner.
“Fabulous idea Minister,” Harry said, and then turned on his heel to find Blaise not so far behind him. He took his arm, and then without saying another word, apparated away, tearing through the Ministry wards. He landed in Blaise’s field.
Before Blaise could say anything Harry stepped away. He gave himself a split second to check Blaise’s protective shield before he blasted all of his magic. There was a loud boom as all of Harry’s magic shot out from him in every direction. There were ripples through the grass as it pushed outward across the field. There was no damage, but Harry was sure that if there had been any trees, they would have been flattened.
He let a deep breath out and looked down at his hands to see that they were trembling violently. He fell to his knees. The world around him was spinning and he couldn’t hear. He just felt terror. Rage. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. This was how it ended.
He became aware of a hand on his back and one on his chin.
“Look at me Harry,” he said as if he was underwater. He opened his eyes and saw Blaise’s blurry face.
“You’re going to be okay.”
No he wasn’t okay. Dumbledore was trying to kill him. Still after all of these years. Harry was being dragged back into the thick of things. He wasn’t ready. He was tired. He didn’t want this.
“You need to take a deep breath darling.”
There was no air. He couldn’t. Harry wondered in the back of his mind how Blaise was speaking if there was no air.
“Harry, you’re safe. You did so well. You’re safe.”
Was he? How could he be? Dumbledore could find him. The Death Eaters could find him. Voldemort could find him. They would hurt him. Kill him. And everyone he loved.
“I’ve got you. No one will hurt you.”
What? Who had him?
Harry focused on the person in front of him. Blaise. That’s right. Blaise was here. Blaise was safe. Harry trusted him. Blaise was telling him that everything was going to be okay. So it would.
“There you are,” Blaise said to him, sounding much less under water than before, “Take a deep breath for me.”
Oh. Ow. There was air now but it hurt a little bit. He struggled and choked.
“Yes good Harry, again, like this,” Blaise coached. Harry tried to watch the way Blaise did it. It still hurt but it was a little easier this time. Again and again they did it. Gradually, the world stopped spinning so fast.
He felt so unstable, so he reached out to Blaise to be closer. Blaise understood and enfolded him in a tight hug.
“I’ve got you love, you’re okay,” Blaise whispered in his ear. Harry let out a sob. He wasn’t even sure what emotion it was stemming from. “Shh, it’s okay, let it out.”
Harry clutched onto Blaise tightly as he cried. Blaise held him through it. He stroked his hair and his back, whispering assurances to him.
Eventually, Harry’s tears dried and he pulled back a little bit. He hiccuped as Blaise reached out to wipe his face. Blaise’s face was filled with nothing but concern and love.
“Feel a little better?” he asked softly. Harry shrugged.
“I’m just really tired,” he said hoarsely, “I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“Let’s get you home and in bed then, we don’t need to think about it today,” Blaise agreed.
“Thank you,” Harry whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Blaise responded and gave him a gentle kiss. He wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist and side along apparated him home.