Harry’s Private Army

So, I thought I’d get this one out. It was banging about in my head until I wrote it down. I hope you enjoy it.

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Harry stopped just inside the room, he bent over as if to tie his shoe. “We’re in a bit of trouble,” he whispered to the bag, making the queen come out and take a look.

“Shite,” she said, and then looked to Harry.

“Use the daggers and get them in the ankle. Too many of you flying around would be noticed,” he said in a hushed tone. He finished ‘tying’ his shoe and stood. He only hoped there were enough fighters. He knew he had over a hundred, but he couldn’t count how many people were here.

“You’re late,” a voice said. The voice belonged to Fudge, who was trying to look important and official. He failed at both. Harry reckoned him to a monkey in clothes. Someone else held this man’s chain.

“I only just learned of the time change,” Harry said, knowing that it was not going to make any difference.

“Not our fault,” the lime green dressed man said, glaring at the teen. “Owls were sent out in a reasonable time,” the man said, looking to the pink woman by his side. She nodded.

Harry just shrugged and moved to the table. There was no way he was going to sit in the chair with chains. He nonchalantly put the bag on the floor behind his foot. It was a simple relaxing of his shoulder, and the bag fell down his arm. He caught the strap before it fell, but the body of the bag was on the floor.

Harry felt one of the doxies climb his trousers. It wasn’t long before the queen was on his right shoulder hidden by his hair. She was peering at the mass of humans. She looked worried. Harry knew that they only trained for three people, but they had all trained, so the little guys should be okay. He really hoped so.

Fudge kept talking about how he flaunted magic, and Harry did little to defend himself. Finally, he wound down and started the trial. “Are you Harry Potter of #4 Privet Dr. Little Whinging, Surrey?” the man asked, shuffling parchment around like he would find the clues in them.

“Yes,” Harry said, not seeing any need to deny the answer. He knew that until he had their undivided attention, they wouldn’t listen to him. He had to wonder what the minister had told them the trial was about. Surely, they didn’t all agree that the Wizengamot was needed for underage magic.

“And did you use magic on August 2^nd?” was the next question. This time there was an unmistakable smirk on the man’s face, like he knew he had Harry by the short and curlies.

Again, Harry didn’t see a reason not to answer. He knew the doxies were getting into place and when the crowd exclaimed from the stabs, he would be able to defend himself. “Yes,” he said again.

“So, you admit that you…” was as far as the man got when something happened to make him stop.

Everyone in the room said, “Ow/Ouch. Something bit me.” There were many attempts to stand, but all failed, then exclamations of not being able to move followed. Heads were turning in all directions to see who had done this. They were looking for someone with a wand showing. Nothing. No one bothered to look down. Had they, they would have seen the doxies crawling away.

Harry was glad they had used the daggers. The arrows would have had to been retrieved, and the daggers wouldn’t. He was extra glad that they trained for this. It went off without a hitch.

“What did you do, Potter?” the hideous woman in pink bellowed. She was trying the hardest to get out of her chair, but only her head moved.

“Me, I don’t even have a wand,” Harry said, holding up his empty hands. He put on his most innocent face, and it seemed to be working with the majority of the people. They didn’t think a fifteen-year-old would have been able to mass curse the entire body of the Wizengamot. Only a strong adult could do such.

“It has to be you, you rotten child,” the woman started only to be stopped by the woman besides her. Her face turned as purple as his uncle’s when the man had reached his boiling point. He only hoped that she died of a heart attack, but alas, just like his uncle, she didn’t.

“Dolores, the boy doesn’t have his wand,” Madam Bones stated, though she was miffed that she could not move. She looked around and saw that the entire body was thus affected. She thought perhaps the teen had done something, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of how. She would investigate it, but she didn’t hold hope of proving anything. It was too cleverly thought out.

“I didn’t do anything,” the teen protested, which was true. The doxies did it. “However, while I have your attention, I have something to show you,” Harry said, taking his wand from his back pocket.

“No,” Fudge and the pink monstrosity said, trying to stand from their seats.

“Show us what?” Bones asked, she knew better than to try and move. It was obvious now that the boy had something to do with it. but like she thought before, she would be hard-pressed to prove it.

“Memories,” Harry said, putting his wand to his head. “I know a spell that can broadcast them,” he added, getting curious looks from many.

“Very well, it’s not like we have a choice,” Bones said her voice was resigned.

“This first memory is from third year, when we told Fudge that Peter Pettigrew was alive,” Harry said, taking said memory and spoke the spell ‘arată memori’.

The memory of what happened in the Shrieking Shack filled the ceiling. It continued on until Fudge left the Hospital Wing. He didn’t show how Sirius escaped. That wouldn’t help his case. It might actually hurt it and get him and Hermione in trouble. That trouble might include the headmaster as well.

Everyone there saw Pettigrew was indeed alive, therefore Black was innocent. They saw Fudge dismiss the children’s claim as well. It didn’t bode well for the minister. There were many glares headed Fudge’s way, especially from Bones.

“Cornelius, when did you take up my job?” the monocled woman asked, turning her head his way. Grown men froze from that glare. She didn’t get into her position by being a pushover. There wasn’t a person in the ministry that didn’t have at least some fearful respect for her.

“Now, Amelia,” the man tried to defend himself when his undersecretary made it worse.

“Are you questioning the Minister?” the pink toad asked, like sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth. That caused many to cringe, the woman just started making a grave of her career. No one questioned the head of the DMLE like that.

“Yes, yes, I am,” the monocled woman said, glaring at the pink toad. “You see, Dolores, it is my job to question anyone who breaks the law. That includes you and the Minister,” Amelia stated, her eyes hard. She would be fully investigating this memory. There were others there that could verify it as well. Two children and the werewolf. Most might not accept the word of a dark creature, but she knew that it was stupid to treat them differently.

“I have more,” Harry said, taking the memory of the graveyard out and showing it the same way. “With this memory, you will see that I have been telling the truth and I’m not crazy,” he said, saying the spell again and showing it on the ceiling.

By this time the potion had worn off, and Fudge reached for his wand, only to find another one at his neck. “Don’t you dare,” Amelia said, pressing her wand into his fat neck.

Fudge whimpered and sat back down. Bones turned her wand to Umbridge, who she trusted less than Cornelius. She was giving the woman a ‘make my day’ glare. Dolores didn’t move. She knew Bones hated her.

Harry whispered to the queen, who had come back to his shoulder, “Paralyze them again. The pink one and the green one.” He never moved his head, but she must have heard him because he could feel her go down his back.

The two indicated were soon paralyzed again. They were shouting but they were soon silenced by Bones. No one wanted to hear from the man at the moment. And no one ever wanted to hear from Dolores. Her voice was like a mermaid out of water.

While that drama was playing out, everyone else watched in horror as the Dark Lord was reborn. There were screams, and some denials, but most realized now that they had been played by the minister. They were not happy. If the minister had listened to the kids, Pettigrew wouldn’t have been there to raise the Dark Lord. Well, maybe. He might have escaped, still there was the possibility that he might have been captured.

There were tears in many eyes when Cedric had asked Harry to return his body to his parents. That was something that would touch anyone with a heart.

Harry noted that Dolores Umbridge’s heart was not affected. Even Fudge sniffled a bit.

“Why did you not tell someone?” Bones asked, sure she knew the answer, but it needed to be officially asked.

“I told the Headmaster, Fudge, and anyone that was there. It wasn’t like I kept it a secret,” Harry said, angered by the question. The memory had stopped when he grabbed the cup in the graveyard.  

“I understand that, but I had to ask, now I can look into why this was covered up,” she explained, once more looking at Fudge. The man cringed again. Not even Lucius could save him now.

“This last one is the reason I used magic,” Harry said, getting ready to show the last memory, when Dumbledore came in the room.

“I will represent Harry Potter,” he said, importantly. He came into the room like an actor on stage. His flamboyant robes flared as he swept to where Harry was standing.

There were murmurs of discontent running through the Wizengamot. They didn’t want the man here; the boy was doing fine all on his own. Many didn’t like that Dumbledore paid such close attention to the teen. It was unhealthy how he micromanaged the kid. Quite a few there were happy that some of the man’s power had been taken away. No one should hold that many titles.

“I’ve got this, Headmaster,” Harry said, stating the spell one last time. This time they all saw the dementors come to kiss him and his cousin.

“Well, that opens a can of flubberworms,” Bones said, looking around the room and seeing most agreed with her.

“How so?” Harry wanted to know.

“The dementors are under the control of the Ministry,” she said, glancing at Fudge and Umbridge’s faces. She saw the two pale and knew there was going to be trouble in the minister’s office. Not that the man would last long after this fiasco. His days were numbered, but this, this might wind him and his side bitch in Azkaban.

“What about the rest?” Harry asked, calmly pulling the strap of his bag onto his shoulder again. No one noticed a thing because he made it look like he was running his hand through his hair. The doxies should all be back in the bag by now. If not, they could climb back in.

“I will have to look into the Black case. I can’t take his, or your word for it. I see that Pettigrew is alive, which means he is innocent of that murder, but there is the twelve muggles and the betrayal of your parents,” she said, picking up some parchment and making notes. “Not to mention escaping from Azkaban,” she added, deciding to ignore the unregistered Animagus, for now.

“Can he get a trial?” the teen asked, feeling the last of the doxies climb his back. He was just glad the headmaster was at his side and didn’t see them.

“If he was sent to prison without one, he can get a pardon. Like I said, I have to research,” was her answer.

“If he doesn’t get a trial, then people will think he bought his way free,” Harry protested, knowing that was true.

“We’ll see,” was all she could say to that.

“And the Dark Lord?” Harry questioned, then he looked to his right out of the corner of his eye. He saw the queen had returned there, and whispered, “Use some prank arrows on the pink toad and the green man. Use as many as you can. Make sure they don’t leave them behind,” he added, not wanting evidence to be around. Especially with Bones nearby.

The queen just nodded and climbed down his back again.

“I must admit I didn’t want to believe he was back, but you have shown that we were wrong,” Amelia said, glaring at the minister and his undersecretary. “We will be having words,” she threatened.

Fudge was still stuck in his chair, or he would have sunk down in it. Dolores was trying to scream at Amelia, but the silencing charm was still upon her.

“I do have one more memory that might help,” Harry said, putting his wand to his head.

“Alright, but this will be the last. I don’t think we can handle more,” Bones said, giving him a ‘go ahead’ wave. She poised to take notes. If this one was like the others, she’d need to.

This memory was of Dumbledore being told of Barty Crouch Jr. being Kissed by the order of Fudge. There was a lot of murmuring from that. The Minister was not allowed to just order someone being Kissed. Especially an escaped convict. The man was a witness, and they needed to know how he got out of prison.

“He was already declared dead, he had no rights,” the man tried to defend himself. It was about the time that he sprouted yellow feathers in his hair, and his face turned pink. They clashed greatly with his lime green outfit. Many tried and failed to stop from laughing. The toad turned an interesting shade of green and had her hair turned to purple fuzz, making her look more like a toad than before.

“Wait, please,” Harry said, thinking of one other time the man had overstepped his bounds. “I have one more. It’s short, I promise,” he said, wand already to his head.

“Fine,” Amelia huffed, and waved him to start.

This one was when Fudge sent Hagrid to Azkaban to be seen ‘doing something’. That got the Wizengamot jumping to their feet. Many remembered Hagrid as a gentle giant who would never hurt anyone. If they personally didn’t know the man, many of their children, or grandchildren, did.

“That is going to hurt,” Bones said to Fudge, who was quivering in his seat, the potion having worn off. Dolores jumped to her feet, wand at the ready, only to be forcefully shoved back down. Amelia took her wand and cast an incarceration charm on her. “We are going to do some questioning after this,” she told the toad.

“You can’t,” Cornelius said, a bit smugly. “She’s a pureblood,” he added as if that were fact.

“You ignorant fool,” Amelia said with a laugh. “She’s a half-blood. Her mum was a muggle.”

That got many talking. Everyone thought the woman was a pureblood with how she spouted their propaganda. There wasn’t a day that went by that Umbridge wouldn’t disparage the muggleborn, or other non-purebloods. Like those with creature inheritance, or werewolves. It was she that passed all those laws. To hear she was not a pureblood had many of them boiling mad.

“The charges against me?” Harry asked, breaking many people from their thoughts. He wanted to leave this place. He had done what he wanted; it was up to these people to fix it.

“Dropped. They should have never been filed in the first place. When I find out what happened, heads will roll,” Amelia said with authority as the head of the DMLE.

That caused Fudge and Umbridge to pale further, making them look as guilty as they were.

“Can I go then?” the teen asked, feeling the last of the doxies crawl up his trouser leg.

“You’re free to leave,” she said, banging the gavel, and saying to the Wizengamot, “We’re done. And if I ever see a case of underage magic before this body again, more heads will roll,” she promised, letting her monocle fall onto its chain.

“That was very well done,” the headmaster said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Wherever did you learn that spell?” he asked, though he still wouldn’t look in Harry’s eyes.

“From the Black library,” was all Harry said, moving to the doors. He was done with this place.