Harry Potter and the Destiny of Prophecies - 13. Chapter 13

Those slit, red eyes no longer held the fear in him the way they once did. Still, they did command some respect. Even in his weakened state, the Dark Lord was a fearsome wizard with many powers at his beck and call. There were not many who could enter into a private meeting with Voldemort and not shake in fear, but he was one of them.

“I have felt the boy’s use of the Cruciatus on the Worm over the last few weeks.” Voldemort hissed in a very pleased tone. “It seems he is well on the road we have set for him.”

“Yes, my lord. He is progressing more and more along that path.” The visitor said confidently. “I believe he has devised a plan to keep his truce, and dispose of Pettigrew at the same time, but I do not yet know what this plan may be, and when he will execute the plan.”

“Interesting.” Voldemort said from where he stood. The visitor, dark cloak and hood covering his features kneeled before him. “It matters not, what he does with the Worm, so long as he keeps his truce for the next few months. Once I am ready, he must be firmly on the path we have set him.”

“He will be, my lord.” The visitor said confidently, and asked a question no one else would dare. “Has the weakness increased?”

“No, it hasn’t.” Voldemort hissed angrily. “Still, I can feel my days coming to an end. I never should have trusted that fool Pettigrew to make the resurrection potion. He must have botched it, and the wound from Potter only made things worse. I have less than a year left, when I should have immortality!”

“I am sorry, my lord.” The visitor extremely deferentially.

“Nevertheless, I am determined my legacy will continue.” Voldemort said sternly. “He still does not know this?”

“No, he does not.” The visitor assured him.

“Make sure he does not.” Voldemort hissed. “It will be many years before my reborn body is able to mature to the point where it can handle my memories, my soul, and begin the work of reclaiming my place in this world.”

“Yes, my lord.” The Visitor agreed.

“Very well, you had best return.” Voldemort told him. “The date of the final battle has been set. Make sure nothing deters him from the path I have set for him.”

“As you command, my lord.” The visitor said, rising to his feet and bowing before leaving.

Voldemort’s plans, indeed. Harry Potter would be the next Dark Lord until Voldemort rose again and knocked him from that position.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was remarkable, Harry reflected as he stared into his office fireplace, just how much life at Hogwarts really had prepared him for the routines of the Ministry. Of course the fact that on his desk was a half-completed essay for his Care for Magical Creatures class didn’t hurt the impression. Still, his days at the office were not much different than his days at school had been.

Draco had portkeyed that morning to a meeting in Paris, so the adjoining office was empty, and the door closed. Their secretary, Chris, was at lunch, and Harry had just returned from the Executive lunch room on the Ministry’s first floor. He’d taken a few glances at the half-finished essay and let the fire distract him from thoughts of how to secure rampaging graphorns safely. Still, he could feel the subtle change in the room as someone stood at his doorway even before they knocked politely.

“Richard.” Harry said, a genuine smile on his face at the sight of the muggle man standing in the doorway. His smile was returned just as easily.

“Hello, Harry.” Richard said as Harry stood and crossed the office to shake his hand. He followed Harry into the room and sat in the chair next to the desk. “Just thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

“How was the meeting?” Harry asked politely. He’d known the muggle was going to be there today, and had told Chris to mention to another secretary that Harry was friends with the man. Sure enough, the secretary had probably mentioned Harry to Richard, and that had sent the man down to his office.

“Far to long, and far to useless.” Richard admitted with a sigh. “We spent the first hour this morning doing nothing but trying to explain how our primary school system works. We didn’t even get into the advantages of minimum standard of education for all young witches and wizards before they broke for lunch. We spent the last two hours in an argument over whether wizards and witches are subjects of the Queen or whatever it is they think of themselves.”

“The wizarding concept of government is quite different than the muggle concept.” Harry said with patience. “Most wizards and witches don’t really care how it operates, so long as it keeps them safe from unsavory elements and doesn’t intrude too closely into their lives. We don’t even operate from taxes like muggle governments.”

“I heard that was another big argument.” Richard said with a chuckle, a chuckle that Harry joined in on for a few moments.

“Let’s just say no one in the wizarding world understands the concept of being forced to pay for the government to operate, or that anyone has the right to take a part of the galleons they earn or pay more for products in a store so that some of it will go to the government. The Ministry of Magic exists to regulate the misuse of magic, stop people like Voldemort from imposing their will on others, prevent magical creatures from rampaging through wizarding villages, and to safeguard us from muggles. When wizards break those rules, they get fined and the Ministry uses that money to operate, or they ask upstanding citizens to contribute for specific purposes. Forcing everyone to pay for the Ministry’s operations is not conceivable.”

“But they’re British citizens!” Richard exclaimed. “Everyone pays taxes to the Crown.”

“If you ask most wizards if they’re British citizens they’ll look at you funny and ask you what a British citizen is and why would they be one.” Harry responded calmly.

“That’s why we’re looking at having all wizarding children attend regular schools until they reach Hogwarts age.” Richard said a little more calmly. “That way they will know their place in our society.”

“Which is why you’re getting nowhere in your meetings.” Harry replied, pouncing on the core of the problem. “Wizards don’t have a place in muggle society. We are separate, and have no desire to end that separation. If the common muggle ever finds out about us, we’ll be hunted down and exterminated, and we know that.”

“That was the past.” Richard said, a plaintive tone returning to his voice. “We’re more advanced now than we were in the middle ages. More accepting of differences in people.”

“Really?” Harry asked quietly. “Then why aren’t you married to your boyfriend?”

“That’s not really pertinent to the situation with magic.” Richard said quietly, his face going slightly pale.

“What about the guy that murdered last week because he was gay?” Harry asked. “Or how about the problems you have with Ireland? What about the people in your society that are saying immigrants shouldn’t be allowed into the country because they’re so different than the people already here? We see all these problems you are facing and we know that deep down muggles haven’t changed all that much.”

“Isn’t this a little paranoid, all this ‘us versus them’ attitude?” Richard asked with a sigh.

“You forget, we live a lot longer than muggles.” Harry said crossly. “You also forget that ghosts really do exist and that they talk to us. You’ve talked to Nearly Headless Nick, The Bloody Baron, and a few others yourself. When you have people you can talk to who remember the last time muggles tried to burn a witch or wizard at the stake, it’s not paranoia.”

“Are you sure you’re only seventeen?” Richard asked for the fiftieth time.

“A very old seventeen.” Harry said with a laugh.

“Well, it’s almost time for the meeting to start back up again.” Richard said, rising to his feet.

“Good luck.” Harry said, rising to his feet and shaking the muggle’s hand. He paused for a moment, as if an idea had just come to him. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“Okay.” Richard said, curiosity now showing on his face.

“Why do wizarding children have to attend muggle schools?” Harry asked. The idea for this had come from Narcissa, and he’d been waiting for the opportunity to bring it up.

“Well, there are no wizarding schools for children below the age of eleven.” Richard said calmly.

“What if there were?” Harry asked. “Obviously magic wouldn’t be a part of the curriculum, but all Hogwarts students need to know how to read, write, and do arithmetic. Some know it better than others depending on if they went to a muggle school like I did, or how they were tutored. If a system of public schools were set-up in wizarding villages, funded by some of the prominent families in the wizarding world, then there would not be a need to have them go to muggle schools.”

“Interesting.” Richard admitted slowly. “The question is could the funding be found for such schools?”

“I’m sure that’s possible.” Harry said. “I know I’d check with my assistant to see how much I could contribute. I’m sure the initial costs can be covered from select families, and tuition payments similar to what Hogwarts does now could always be arranged for the poorer families.”

“There would also need to be lessons on government and society.” Richard said slowly. “But it might be a better solution.”

“I’m sure curriculum on their government and society would be included for wizarding children.” Harry said, being careful not to say, or even really imply, that lessons on government and society would focus on wizarding government and wizarding society.

“I’ll bring it up to my superiors.” Richard said before leaving. Harry sat back down at his desk and returned to the essay he’d been working on. Several hours later the essay was done, and Harry was once again staring at the fire in his fireplace, reflecting on how much different his life was now.

A large part of his life was now based on partial-truths, and outright lies. These had created so many layers in his life he no longer understood who he was at times, especially at times like now. There was the Boy-Who-Lived, who led the great fight against the evil Voldemort. There was the Oath Lord, bound to keep the evil muggles at bay. There was the man who loved Draco Malfoy with all his heart. There was the man who had watched Dumbledore die, and felt relieved at the old man’s passing. Don’t forget the man who’d killed Oliver Wood in cold blood, then lied so very easily to the DMLE agents that they didn’t blink an eye at his explanation.

Then there was the man who had been holding Peter Pettigrew in his attic, and casting the Cruciatis curse on the man several times a day for the last few weeks.

Draco had only shrugged at that when Harry expected him to react with anger. It confused him, at first. Then they’d talked about it and Draco had told him Harry wasn’t acting any differently than he had before using the curse. The moment Harry did something to hurt Draco, his husband would tell him to stop. That let Harry feel safe, safe enough to take out his anger, his pain, on the man who had started it all.

Yes, Peter Pettigrew was to blame for the tragedy that had been Harry Potter’s life.

Okay, Voldemort was also responsible, but it had been Pettigrew who had been trusted, who had held the lives of James, Lily, and Harry Potter in his hands, and who had given them to the Dark Lord. It had been Peter Pettigrew who had framed Sirius Black and sent him to Azkaban for twelve long years. It had been Peter Pettigrew who had been given a second chance to save Harry Potter and instead helped to resurrect Voldemort. Peter Pettigrew owed Harry Potter a Wizard’s Debt like few others in the history of the world, and Harry was going to collect on that debt with so much pain and misery that Peter Pettigrew’s soul would be weeping for eternity!

“Mr. Malfoy-Potter?” Chris’ voice came into Harry’s office, startling Harry out of his mental diatribe. He found he was grasping his wand tightly, and had to fight down the urge to Apparate home and spend some time with Pettigrew.

“Yes, Chris.” Harry replied, looking at his entryway where Chris was standing, a look of concern on his face. Harry smiled gently at the former Slytherin student.

“The Prime Minister is here to see you, sir.” Chris said, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Show him in then!” Harry said with a smile, and a slight shake of his head to tell Chris that nothing was wrong. His aide nodded and disappeared for a moment, returning quickly with the muggle Prime Minister behind him.

“Harry, it’s good to see you!” The man said cheerfully, and Harry moved to shake his hand. Chris returned as soon as they were seated with a tea service for two before shutting the door on his way out.

“How did your meetings go?” Harry asked once the door was shut.

“Most excellent!” The Prime Minister said with a smile. “It seems we’re finally reaching some middle ground between our two worlds. Your advice has been most helpful!”

“I’m glad to hear that, sir.” Harry replied.

“Please, I’ve told you, call me Tony.” The man said to Harry, and Harry smiled, slipping easily into the role he played with this man.

“Of course, sorry.” Harry said. “Sometimes I forget.”

“Not a problem.” The Prime Minister said, still smiling. “I’m just happy I was able to stop by today. Cherie has been having a go at me to have you and that handsome young man of yours come over for dinner.”

“We’d be delighted.” Harry said, handing the man a cup of tea. The man took milk in his, and didn’t even notice that there were two milk containers on the tray, nor did he notice that Harry used a different milk container for each of their cups.

“So, how goes the hunt?” The Prime Minister asked after taking a sip of the tea.

“About the same as it has been.” Harry replied honestly. “Voldemort’s got himself a good stronghold in eight countries so far, and the few times we know where he is he is so protected that any assault would be far too costly in lives, or far to public to cover up effectively.”

“Pity that.” Tony Blaire replied with regret. “We can’t even use regular troops in those situations.”

“No.” Harry agreed, phrasing his comments very carefully. “It’d do no one any good to use non-wizarding forces in an assault against Voldemort.”

“Quite so.” The muggle said with a soft sigh. “Where’s your…husband now?”

“At a conference on the continent.” Harry answered. “He’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Excellent, then you’ll be able to come over for dinner on Friday?”

“Certainly.” Harry agreed with a smile. “By the way, Richard stopped by earlier today.”

“Miles?” The Prime Minister asked after a moment of thought. “Bright chap in Education?”

“Yes, absolutely wonderful man.” Harry said, planting that seed as well. It always helped to nudge along the careers of those that could be used. “We were talking about his meetings regarding education of the younger children. We came across a smashing idea about how to handle that matter and I hope that it gets heard.”

“I’m sure it will.” The Prime Minister said with a soft smile. “I think we’ll invite him to dinner as well.”

“That would be nice.” Harry said. “I don’t think I’ve spent any real time catching up with him since he stayed at Hogwarts.”

The rest of the hour was spent in idle chatter about various topics, none really touching on areas of importance. They had found that through his work as a barrister in the past, he had connections to the Malfoy family business (those that touched on the muggle world at least), and some of their associates. Harry had come to know some of these people over the last year so they were able to talk about them politely. He poured the man a second cup of tea, this time filling it with milk from the same container he used since he didn’t want the effects to last beyond the meeting, and it was a very carefully timed potion. At the end of the hour, he told the man farewell, and escorted him out of the office. Then he told Chris to cancel his scheduled time with the Aurors so he could head home and take care of some personal business.

He wanted to remind Pettigrew of what it meant to cross the Potter family.