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Harry Potter and the Destiny of Prophecies - 3. Chapter 3

As Harry entered the Headmaster’s office, he was struck by how different it looked. Gone was the cluttered mess that seemed to personify Albus Dumbledore as well as the bowl of lemon drops. Parchments were neatly stacked on the desk, various items were neatly placed on shelves, and a new painting hung on the wall above the desk. It was the painting that drew Harry’s attention immediately.

“Why, hello my boy!” the Wizard Portrait of Albus Dumbledore said in a jovial tone. “Quite good to see you! I hope you have not managed to earn the ire of the new Headmistress so early in the term?”

“No, Albus.” Harry said weakly, a soft smile beginning to form on his face. “I haven’t managed to upset her…yet.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” Minerva McGonagall said sternly, the smile on her face as she entered giving lie to the sternness of her voice. “Have a biscuit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry said as the portrait behind him chuckled. She motioned him to a seat, which he took as she sat behind the desk.

“How are your classes shaping up?” She asked him in a far nicer tone.

“Excellent so far.” Harry told her. It was now three weeks into the term and things were going very well.

“As we expected.” She told him. “You must really consider a career as a teacher. I managed to eavesdrop on a group of your first years in the library the other day. I must say I was quite pleased to see a table full of Gryffindor and Slytherin students all studying together and the essays they were working on sounded quite exciting for first year students.”

“I’ve been trying to get them to understand the theory of things before we move into the practical work.” Harry told her. “Remus and I talked about it over the summer and we agreed that understanding the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ before blasting away with wands would probably help them more than just picking up a wand and pointing at something.”

“A very good concept.” Minerva said with a smile. “Also one very fitting for your subject. Like I said, you make a fine, natural teacher.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, trying not to blush.

“Yes, very well. Now on to why I called you here.” She said after a moment. “Young Jeremy contacted me with a request for a pass for you and Draco early next week. He said the Minister of Magic has requested a meeting with the two of you. I know that Albus pretty much allowed you two to leave whenever you wanted, but I feel that is inappropriate so long as you are students. What is this meeting to be about?”

“Ministry business, Headmistress.” Harry replied shortly. “No disrespect intended but it is not related to Hogwarts business.”

“Is it related to Order business?” She asked, her raised eyebrow reminding him that Fawkes had chosen her as the new head of the Order of the Phoenix.

“Somewhat.” Harry admitted, shifting in his seat slightly. “It’s dealing with some former Death Eaters.”

“In what way?” She pressed him.

“The Aurors and MLE want to practice techniques in combat with Death Eaters. While Aurors and MLE agents know Death Eater tactics, they aren’t as familiar with them as actual Death Eaters. Some of the former Death Eaters that voluntarily quit Voldemort’s service are uniquely qualified to work with Aurors and MLE on developing new techniques that will be used against Voldemort’s followers.”

“Why hasn’t this been brought to the Order’s attention?” She demanded sharply, a look of anger on her face.

“I just learned about it yesterday.” Harry lied. “I wasn’t sure if the Order was aware since I haven’t been allowed to attend meetings this summer.”

“You are still too young.” She told him firmly. She still held the belief that he was too young for regular meetings of the Order and now that she was in charge, she had removed some of the privileges Dumbledore had given, or at least those that she could remove without it becoming front page news.

“I am very much aware of your beliefs in that regard.” Harry reminded her.

“Yes, so anyway, why is the Minister meeting with the two of you?” She demanded.

“He wants our opinion on who can be trusted among the former Death Eaters.” Harry told her.

“I’m sorry but I can’t see how your involvement will help in the matter. You will regretfully decline the meeting.” She told him with a look of sympathy.

“Do you really want to do this, Minerva?” Harry said, pleased at her look of surprise with his use of her first name. He hadn’t used it ever since returning to school. “I am a legal adult now, not a minor. I can sign myself on and off school grounds within reason, so long as classes or other obligations are not missed. For convenience sake, this meeting was being scheduled so I’d only miss dinner and DA meetings that I am not scheduled to instruct. Sure, there’s a lot you can do in retaliation for me defying your wishes, but that will lead us both down a very uncomfortable road. We also both know that I can take all my N.E.W.T exams right now and earn full marks on them. The only reason I’m here is to preserve the image of Hogwarts as a seven year school and because I want more than an ‘A’ in those subjects. I will not sulk about your opposition to my Ministry duties, I will not run off in a snit and I will not react out of anger. Lest you forget, we are on the same side here. We can do this so that we both maintain our dignity and respect, or it can be done the hard way. The fact of the matter is that I have never had the opportunity for a normal childhood ever since Voldemort attacked my parent’s house. We both might wish things had gone differently, or that I might have had a normal childhood, but you know as well as I do that it has not been the case for me. The egg has hatched, Headmistress McGonagall, and as much as either of us might wish differently, I cannot go back into that egg.”

“I see.” She said after a few moments of silence. “Your response is not quite what I expected from you, but it is what I would expect from a mature adult. Very well, Harry. Please do me the courtesy of having your assistants inform me when you will be off campus, but my permission will not be needed unless it interferes with your regular classes.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, leaning back in his chair and relaxing a little. “They are under very strict instructions that short of an attack by Voldemort on the Ministry or Hogwarts my classes are sacrosanct.”

“That will be all.” She said dismissing him. He got up to leave with a polite nod of his head towards her, but her voice stopped him as he reached the door. “Oh, Harry, the next regular meeting of the Order is one week from Saturday. Please be in my office at 2:00 p.m. so that you can travel there with me.”

“I’ll be here.” Harry said with a smile before leaving. His smile lasted all the way down to his next class.


Ron Weasley was frustrated. Actually, frustrated was not a way to describe how he was feeling at that particular moment. Hermione was the cause of a lot of the frustration, but she wasn’t all of it. A lot came from Harry as well.

The Gryffindor Trio no longer existed in any real sense.

Hermione spent a lot of time alone, or studying with different Ravenclaw students. Harry spent most of his time with Draco (of course) or with others from his little “Defenders” groups, or gone to some meeting at the Ministry. The end result was that Ron had few people to talk to or spend time with.

Ever since the attack on Hearly Manor and the revelations about his relationship and seduction by Cho Chang, most of his fellow Gryffindors seemed to not trust him like they once did. Sure, he was Quidditch Captain and Head Boy, and he had a lot of duties with those positions, but his free time was still lonely. Hermione kept patting her growing belly and wouldn’t even hear his offers of marriage anymore. She no longer showed up in his room, even though she now had the room next to his, and she never sought him out for comfort when she’d start crying.

That’s why he found himself alone in the Hog’s Head one Saturday. The Three Broomsticks was filled with students and he didn’t feel wanted there, so he had gone to the less savory bar he remembered from fifth year. He was nursing his butterbeer, wondering if a mead might be better when a familiar face swam into view.

“Blimey, Oliver Wood!” Ron said in surprise at the new arrival.

“Ron Weasley!” Oliver exclaimed, crossing the room to shake Ron’s hand. He readily accepted Ron’s offer to join him and soon had a mead of his own.

“I saw you in the Cannons this year.” Oliver said after taking a swig of his drink. “Think they might hire you after you graduate?”

“Maybe.” Ron said with a grin. “They seemed to do well with some of my ideas.”

“Aye that.” Oliver said with a laugh. “They gave us a run for our money in the last match. I swear they must have talked to someone who knew my habits very well at goalkeeping.”

“They might have.” Ron admitted with a sheepish smile. “So what are you doing down here?”

“Oh, I was just visiting MadameHooch.” Oliver answered. “She’s my mother’s cousin and really taught me some flying in my first year. I visit her every now and then.”

“I didn’t know that.” Ron admitted.

“So whatcher doin’ here instead of the Broomsticks?” Oliver asked him.

“Didn’t feel like being there.” Ron answered noncommittally.

“Where’s Harry? I didn’t see him there either.”

“He’s probably at the Ministry, or snogging Draco.” Ron muttered, deciding he really did need something stronger. The mead, when it came a moment later, was better.

“Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.” Oliver sighed into his own drink. “Who would have thought little ole Harry could sink so low?”

“Don’t say that.” Ron said sharply. “You might make me laugh.”

“Tell me Ron,” Oliver said with a small smile. “Is it really true that they have no decency whatsoever and will shag in any place?”

“Oliver, you don’t know the half of it.” Ron said with a grimace, launching into the tale of all the times Hermione and he had caught them over the summer, and before. When he finished Oliver asked him another question.

“So, is it true that he’s surrounded himself with a bunch of those Junior Death Eaters?”

“They aren’t Junior Death Eaters anymore.” Ron said firmly, and then something occurred to him. “Although now I’d say they all acted like the Potter and Malfoy Personal Servants every time I saw them this summer.”

“Oi!” Oliver exclaimed. “You don’t think they are like forming another group like the Death Eaters are ya?”

“I don’t know,” Ron admitted, looking down into now empty fourth mead. “I heard something right after Dumbledore’s funeral that I just don’t quite get, but it makes me wonder.”

“Wonder what?” Oliver asked.

“If Draco might be seducing Harry to the Dark Arts.” Ron admitted, immediately regretting he’d said something like that to someone he hadn’t seen in years. But this was Oliver Wood! He could trust another Gryffindor, even if Hermione had refused to believe him when he told her about the Prophecy he’d overheard.

“Why do you think that?” Oliver whispered, leaning closer to Ron so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Well, you see, I overhead Trelawney giving another real prophecy after Dumbledore’s funeral. Only Harry and Draco were with her and I know they haven’t told anyone since it’s about Harry.” Ron explained in a whisper.

“What was the Prophecy?” Oliver asked, still whispering.

“It was: ‘Beware the danger of Darkness being replaced with Darkness, stumble not lest the world be plunged forever into evil!’” Ron told him. “Look, don’t tell this to anyone.”

“Don’t worry Ron.” Oliver said, with wide eyes. “But what are we going to do? I mean if Harry were to go Dark, that would be bad for everyone!”

“I don’t know.” Ron admitted, pleased that Oliver had said ‘we’. “But…oh crap, it’s getting late. I have to get back. Listen, can I owl you?”

“Sure.” Oliver said, then he told Ron where he could owl him. Ron left, stumbling a little from the mead, but by the time he was back at Hogwarts he was sobered up. He also felt better.

At least now he had someone he knew he could talk to about Harry.



Harry Potter was feeling free as he soared above Hogwarts on his broom. Kingsley had sent an owl saying he was unavoidably delayed and cancelled their training session this morning, so Harry had a free hour. He’d been looking out the window of the great hall when he saw Madam Hooch fly by, a string of first years clumsily following behind.

That was all it took for him to race to his room and grab his broom. He was in the sky moments later and he wondered once again why he’d bothered quitting Quidditch. He missed it, but more than that he missed the feeling of freedom he got every time he kicked off from the ground. Up here he didn’t have to worry about appearances, didn’t have to be everybody’s hero, or any of that. He could just be himself.

Down below he could see a group of third years returning from Care of Magical Creatures, and the first years that had been following Madame Hooch were putting their school brooms away. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he took off in a dive for the little group. One of the girls screamed as she saw him streaking for them, grabbing the entire group’s attention. At the last possible moment, he wrenched his broom upwards, the bristles of the broom almost touching the cowering head of one of the students. He embellished his climb by spinning, even as he turned back into another looping dive that ended as he landed next to the awestruck group of students.

“I don’t recommend any of you trying those moves.” MadameHooch said in a disapproving tone, glaring at Harry. He gave her a sheepish grin, then a bow, and took off back to the castle at an easy jog.

It had been two weeks since his meeting with ProfessorMcGonagall, and he was very happy with her change in attitude. There were no more attempts to shield him from things because he was ‘too young’. There was also more respect from her when he voiced his opinions at the last Order of Phoenix meeting. The hunt for Voldemort wasn’t going well right now. He’d disappeared somewhere in Russia and was strong enough now to keep Harry from entering his mind like he had over the summer.

There was no Russian Ministry of Magic, per se. Instead it was a branch of the regular muggle government and run by muggles. They seemed convinced they could take on Voldemort without any help, and absolutely refused any help. Any news of activities in their region was impossible to obtain. A scolding silver dragon met him at the entrance and refused to be shooed away as he jogged to his private room. He’d been flying a little longer than he planned, and was now running late. Draco had a habit of sending the damn toy to fetch him every time he was late.

It was almost getting annoying.

As the portrait to their rooms opened, the dragon flew inside and settled on Draco’s desk. Harry absentmindedly patted the golden lion that was sitting on his own desk and made his way into the bedroom where a fuming Draco was waiting, already dressed in formal, non-school robes.

“You’re late, again!” Draco muttered.

“Sorry.” Harry said, putting his broom away and pulling off his own clothes.

“This is an important meeting and we’re going to be late!”

“I said I’m sorry!” Harry snapped in a moment of ire. He finished undressing and hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower. When he got out, he found a set of dress robes waiting for him. He pulled them on angrily and was finishing putting his shoes on when Draco came back into the bedroom.

“Your hair is still a mess.” Draco said in an annoyed tone.

“Then fix it!” Harry snapped back. Draco always got this way whenever Harry caused them to be late, but when it was Draco’s fault for them to be late he said it was ‘expected for a Malfoy to arrive in his own time’. Harry had yet to determine when it was ‘expected’ to be late and he largely expected that there was no pattern, just Draco’s ego.

“I will.” Draco snapped in response, and stormed into the bathroom, returning with a brush in one hand and gel in the other.

“Oh no you don’t.” Harry warned him with a glare. “No more gel! It takes days to get rid of the greasy feeling that stuff leaves behind!”

“But it is the only thing that works!” Draco nearly wailed.

“Give me that brush.” Harry said, snatching it from Draco’s hand and quickly swiping it though his hair a few times before standing up and leading the way out of the room. Draco let out an exasperated snort before following him. Their carriage was waiting for them at the entrance. The ride to Hogsmeade was made in stony silence.

“It’s still a mess.” Draco said as they arrived and left the carriage. Harry just glared before disapparating.

The Ministry building was as hectic as it always was, but people stepped aside as Harry stormed inside with Draco close behind him. They both had looks on their faces that made people wonder what horrible thing had happened to cause them to be so angry. Harry almost wished someone would ask so he could tell them.

Harry’s hair had made them angry.

Okay, it wasn’t true, but it felt like nothing had been going right between them for the past week. Last night, Harry had even thought of sleeping in the second bedroom just to get away from Draco’s seething ire. He tried to think what might have caused Draco to get angry but couldn’t imagine what it had been. As the lift took them to the level of today’s meeting, Harry’s mind wandered over the week’s activities to find when exactly Draco had started acting this way.

Oh CRAP. It had started last week when they’d met Oliver Wood after returning from a meeting at the Ministry. They’d stayed at the Three Broomsticks for a few drinks to unwind and Oliver had been there. Harry had talked to him for two hours before Draco practically dragged him out of the pub and back to Hogwarts. Ever since then Draco had been acting pissed off.

“Oliver Wood isn’t even half the man you are.” Harry whispered as they stepped out of the lift and headed down the hallway. Draco was now walking right next to him instead of slightly behind him as he had been all week.

“Just remember that next time you see him instead of ignoring me and my yawns for two hours.” Draco murmured angrily, but then he wrapped his arm around Harry’s and a quick glance showed that the blond was relaxing.

“I love you.” Harry whispered as they reached the door to the conference room and opened it.

“Just keep repeating that mantra, Potter.” Draco said with a smirk as they entered through the doorway and took their seats. That was when Harry noticed that there were several people there whom he hadn’t expected. The Minister of Magic, Orrin Milieu, nodded at them as they sat in their seats near the head of the table and continued with what he’d been saying before they entered.

“…many years since the Prime Minister of Her Majesty’s Government has graced us by attending this Ministry’s meetings. So, without further ado, let me turn the floor over to him.”

“Thank you, Minister.” The dark haired muggle said with a slight smile. Harry examined him closely. He’d seen the man on the telly when he won his recent election to the post, but in person he looked more…vibrant. Middle aged, trim, with dark hair, he looked like the epitome of a British leader.

“I must say that I have been most impressed with what I’ve seen here so far.” The Prime Minister said, glancing sideways at Harry and Draco, a slight frown forming on his face before continuing. “I know that in the past, relations between the rest of Her Majesty’s government and this branch have been rather sparse, but in these changing times I cannot see that continuing much further. The attacks last year, and the recent spat of less-violent crimes in recent months has forced us to reevaluate the relations between the non-magical and magical communities.”

A loud murmur broke out in the room at that statement, and Harry felt Draco’s hand touch his right arm, the light tapping of two fingers sending a message. He lifted his right hand slightly to indicate agreement as the Prime Minister continued.

“Your good Minister here was informed this morning of the steps that will be made to assist us in this evaluation, and we decided to inform you personally this afternoon.”

“What steps?” Arthur Weasley said in a weak voice.

“We have appointed evaluators to inspect each area of this Ministry’s operations. The ladies and gentlemen behind me will be assigned to your Departments that correspond to their areas of expertise. They will observe your operations over the next month and send make final reports on changes they believe appropriate. The Cabinet shall consider these changes and inform the Ministry of Magic of what we require.”

Draco indicated to the Minister of Magic that he wished to speak and was recognized immediately.

“Mr. Prime Minister.” Draco spoke coolly. “While we recognize that Her Majesty’s government does have some legal authority, doesn’t the London Treaty of 1982 give the Ministry of Magic final say in how it is run? We do not operate off of your taxes, but rather on taxes from the Magical Community.”

“Her Majesty’s government is reevaluating the terms of that Treaty, young man.” The Prime Minister said with a friendly smile. “I believe that you would be Draco Malfoy? I can understand that young man like you, with little experience beyond the classroom, might not understand, but sometimes Treaties must be reevaluated when they no longer work for both parties. Events over the last few years have force us to conclude that the Treaty is no longer fair to Her Majesty’s government. Our citizens have been killed, and those responsible for it still roam free.”

“Lest you forget,” Harry broke in, barely keeping his anger in check at all, “Some of our citizens were killed by you a few months ago and none of those responsible have been held accountable either. In fact, one of those killed was one of our greatest heroes ever.”

“A lamentable accident.” The Prime Minister said sadly. “One that we hope to prevent reoccurring by this review and reorganization.”

“It can be prevented simply by keeping muggle troops out of magical combat zones.” Maggie Lawton said heatedly.

“It is my understanding that children were being attacked in that incident.” The Prime Minister replied.

“Those children were holding their own with little assistance.” Harry said heatedly. “Until your troops showed up and started cutting down everything that moved!”

“I don’t see how you can be expected to understand the complexities of a battlefield!” A muggle seated on the far side of the room snapped. He was wearing what Harry recognized as a military uniform.

“Only because I’ve been on magical battlegrounds since I was one year old!” Harry snapped back. “I was there that day, sir. I helped train most of those students, and have been drilled by many of the adults fighting on that station platform. If your troops hadn’t intervened, the wizard responsible for most of these attacks would be dead right now!”

“Minister,” The Prime Minister said sternly to Orrin Milieu. “Since when do children hold seats on a Ministry Council?”

“Mr.Potter and Mr.Malfoy are of legal age, Prime Minister.” Orrin Milieu said firmly. “Under wizarding law, the age of seventeen is legal age and includes the right to sit and participate in government activities.”

“Ah,” The Prime Minister said with a nod of his head. “Another discrepancy in our laws that will have to be dealt with. I shall make myself more clear. This evaluation, and reorganization, of the Ministry of Magic is not up for negotiation. Action must be taken to prevent catastrophes from reoccurring, and your cooperation is required, not requested. Please excuse me, Minister, but where is the Headmaster of Hogwarts?”

“Headmaster Dumbledore was killed by muggle bullets two months ago.” Harry said coldly. “Headmistress McGonagall is too busy making sure that the school runs properly to attend these meetings. Draco and I report anything of consequence to her.”

“Ah, yes.” The Prime Minister said with a frown. “Well, then, let me introduce you to Richard Miles. Richard will be evaluating the educational system at Hogwarts. Please escort him back to your school and introduce him to your Headmistress. He’ll require quarters there for the next thirty days.”

The man the Prime Minister mentioned stood. He was in his early thirties and had a shock of pale red hair, much different than that of the Weasley family. His face held no expression at all as he moved from his position towards where Harry and Draco sat. Harry was about to protest that he would do no such thing when a look from Orrin Milieu made him change his mind. As he stood, he managed to make eye contact with four or five Department Heads he’d be contacting over the next few days. With a nod to the red-headed muggle, Harry stood and left the room, Draco following so that the muggle was between them.

“Is that all your luggage?” Harry heard Draco ask the man as they went down the corridor.

“No.” The man said softly. “The rest of my luggage is in the vehicles outside of the…guest entrance.”

“Very well.” Harry said shortly. “We’ll stop there and get it before heading back to Hogwarts.”

“Is it very far?” the man asked. “No one could tell me exactly where it is located.”

“Several hours train ride, usually.” Harry answered. His stomach grumbled, upset at having missed lunch and from the acids his worrying was pumping into it.

“Oh, so we’ll be there by nightfall?” The man asked as they stopped at the lift.

“Far sooner.” Harry answered. “We’ll even have time to stop in Hogsmeade for lunch.”


“Village outside of Hogwarts.” Harry explained shortly as the doors to the lift opened. As they filed in, he realized that he was being very rude to someone who might need to think of Harry as a friend.

“This place really is amazing.” The muggle said as the lift stopped to let on two witches and a dozen flying memos. They got off at the next stop and Harry turned to look the muggle over.

He was short, no more than 5’7”, but had a decent build. His pale reddish hair and hazel eyes were set on a pleasantly square face. Harry smiled at the man and held out his hand.

“Harry Potter.” He said simply.

“Richard Miles.” The man said, letting out a little sigh and smiling softly. Draco took the hint and introduced himself as well just as the lift stopped at the main level. The man started talking as if a barrier had been broken as soon as they left the lift. This time he walked next to Harry, with Draco on the far side. Everyone made a path for them as they walked through.

“You’ll have to excuse me if I seem a little freaked by all of this.” The man said in a rapid ramble. “I just really learned about magic being real and everything a week ago. They gave me a huge file and I really haven’t had time to sort through everything yet. Is it common for people as young as you to be in such important positions? What exactly are your positions with the Ministry?”

“No, it’s not normal for wizards as young as us to be filling such positions.” Harry said with a smile. “But then neither of us are exactly normal wizards. Our official titles are now ‘Special Advisor to the Minister of Magic’. What it means is we fill a variety of roles while also attending our final year at Hogwarts.”

“So you’re still students?” He asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Partially.” Draco said smoothly. “We’re also instructors, and I’d really like to get back in time for my afternoon class that begins in two hours.”

“But I thought you said it was a long trip?”

“By train.” Harry explained. “We’re not going by train.”

“Oh, how long will it take?” Richard asked.

“Er…I’d say ten minutes to get your baggage, then we go to Hogsmeade. A quick lunch at the Three Broomsticks, MadameRosmerta usually serves a most excellent shepherd’s pie this day of the week, and then a little less than an hour’s walk to the castle itself. Plenty of time to get Draco back for his class.”

“But how long is the trip to Hogsmeade?” Richard asked, still confused as they entered the telephone booth that would take them back to the surface.

“A second?” Harry asked, looking at Draco.

“Knowing you, Potter, maybe two.” Draco said with a laugh. The man literally whimpered when the booth took off for the surface, and only opened his eyes when Harry announced their arrival.

There were a fleet of cars waiting, and Richard spoke to the assembled drivers and security guards who soon returned with four very large suitcases. Draco sighed, gathering them around him before disappearing with the a crack. The muggle drivers and guards jumped, as did Richard. Harry just grabbed his hand and prepared himself for the jump.

“What?” Richard finished the word he’d started in muggle London and looked around him with surprise at the village of Hogsmeade, and Draco standing with his luggage nearby. When they appeared, Draco took off into the nearby post building to send an owl requesting a carriage. That would be easier than trudging all the way back to the castle with luggage.

“You can teleport?” Richard said in an excited voice.

“It’s called apparating and disapparating.” Harry explained, taking out his wand and using a levitation charm to lift the luggage. Richard’s eyes nearly fell out of his head as the luggage followed them down the street.

“Knowing magic exists and seeing it in action are two totally separate things, aren’t they?” Harry said with a smirk.

“Ye…yes they are.” Richard stuttered out. They entered the Three Broomsticks and Harry ordered three meals and three butterbeers. Draco showed up just as the food arrived to say McGonagall was sending a carriage for their trip back, and that Harry was to take their ‘guest’ to see her immediately.

The food was good, and Richard talked nonstop about their surroundings and kept asking questions on how exactly they had ‘teleported’. Draco was actually smirking at the muggle’s reaction, and Harry had to admit that the man was reacting far differently than he had expected. Still, what he represented posed a danger greater than Voldemort and Harry was not going to forget that.

“Is that real gold?” Richard asked as they paid for the meal with a galleon. Draco explained how wizard money worked as they made their way to the waiting carriage, baggage floating behind. Harry levitated it to the top of the carriage and turned, noticing the man staring at the front of the carriage.

“What are those?” The muggle hissed.

“Threstrals.” Harry answered, and gave the man another appraising look. “They are magical creatures, very intelligent, and they eat raw meat for food. Usually they can’t be seen unless you’ve seen someone die. Then they are visible.”

“Oh.” Richard said, giving the beasts a wary look as he climbed into the carriage after Draco. “I fought in the war, I guess that’s why I can see them.”

“What war was that?” Draco asked as the carriage took off for the castle.

“The Gulf War.” Richard answered.

“Never heard of it.” Draco replied. Then Richard started asking questions about magical creatures. He was shocked that vampires, werewolves, unicorns, centaurs, fairies, pixies and a whole host of other legends were real. Harry wondered how the man would react to meeting Remus Lupin, a real live werewolf. Harry barely withheld the chuckle at that thought. The muggle gasped when he first caught sight of the castle, and as they were getting out of the carriage he squinted at the Quidditch pitch, where Madame Hooch had some second years flying laps.

“Are those kids flying?” Richard asked in wonder, then added “On brooms?

“Yes.” Harry answered him with a smile. “Although they aren’t quite as good as Draco or I.”

“You fly on a broom?” Richard asked with wide eyes.

“Of course.” Harry shrugged as he led the man into the great entrance.

“What is it like?” Richard asked another question. Draco had already taken off at a fast pace with a bare ‘good-bye’, heading to the dungeons. He had ten minutes before class started.

“Well, I have a Firebolt and I’m sure it can hold two.” Harry said, surprising himself. “Maybe I’ll be able to take you on a short jaunt while you’re here.”

“I’d love that.” Richard said, grinning widely. The man stared as they passed through several passageways before reaching the gargoyle. Harry spoke the password and the man leaped back as the staircase appeared. Nevertheless, he followed Harry upstairs. When they arrived the Headmistress had not yet shown up, so he pointed Richard to a chair, but the muggle was staring at the portraits…all of whom were staring back.

“I daresay that man is a muggle!” The portrait of Phineas declared in a disgusted tone. “Not even you, Albus, ever let a muggle like him in here!”

“Oh hush, Phineas.” Albus’ portrait said sternly. “I’m sure Mr.Potter here has a good reason, don’t you Harry.”

“Yes, and you’ll all hear it when Headmistress McGonagall does.” Harry told them.

“The pictures are talking!” Richard exclaimed at last, his voice little above a squeak.

“Of course we do!” Phineas chided. “We’re wizard portraits, not muggle imitations!”

“Enough, Phineas.” Harry said irritably.

“Why, I never!” The portrait muttered. “Such CHEEK from a student.”

“But he’s quite right.” Minerva McGonagall said, walking in from another entrance. Richard jumped at her voice. “All of you be quiet, please, for the nonce. Mr.Potter, you may explain.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry said, finally getting the muggle man to sit in the chair. He sat next to him as the Headmistress sat behind her desk, looking down her long nose at the man.

“This is Richard Miles, from the muggle government.” Harry began his explanation, but Richard cut him off.

“Pleased to meet you, Headmistress.” The muggle said quickly, then slowed as Harry remained quiet with a raised eyebrow. “I work with the Department of Education in Her Majesty’s service. I’ve been sent here by the Prime Minister to perform an evaluation on your education system for children and make recommendations to the Cabinet based on my opinions.”

“Ah, a Muggle High Inquisitor.” McGonagall muttered, causing Harry to let out a laugh before he got it under control. Richard looked confused for a moment, then realized he’d probably been insulted and sat back with a wary expression. “Mr.Potter, I trust this has been approved by the Ministry?”

“They didn’t have much choice, ma’am.” Harry said.

“I see.” She said softly. “How long will you staying, Mr.Miles?”

“30 days, ma’am.” He replied warily.

“I see.” She repeated with a sigh. “Mr.Potter, how are you doing in your classes that you are attending?”

“Just fine, ma’am.” Harry answered, stifling the groan as he knew where this was leading.

“Do you think missing a few days here and there will hurt you much?” She asked him sweetly.

“No ma’am.” Harry replied, refusing to let his shoulders slouch.

“Is that extra room in your quarters still available?”

“Yes ma’am.” He replied, not controlling his voice enough as a little of his dislike for the position she was putting him in showed.

“Then you wouldn’t mind escorting Mr.Miles while he is here would you?” She asked sweetly. “We’ll arrange for you to visit third, fourth, fifth, and sixth year classes in the subjects you aren’t enrolled in or teaching. That should give him plenty of time to examine our curriculum, not only by subjects but by year level as well. Of course if he wishes to speak to any specific faculty as well, that will be arranged. Why don’t you also have him join you at all the house tables during different meals, that should give him another good idea of how Hogwarts works. Also, make sure to keep him clear of Peeves. That ghost positively hates muggles.”

“It will be a pleasure ma’am.” Harry said, catching the glint in her eyes when she mentioned Peeves. “I’ll also keep a sharp eye out for Peeves.”

“Very good, then.” She said, rising to her feet. Harry also rose to his feet, followed a moment later by Richard, who looked a little set-back. “If you need to speak to me again, let Mr.Potter know. I can’t imagine leaving you in any safer hands than his.”

“Thank you.” Richard managed to get out before she left the room. Harry motioned for him to follow Harry out of the office. The first stop was to take the man to the quarters they’d be sharing. He introduced Richard to the portrait, gave him the password and then led him inside. The muggle seemed impressed by the room, and then Harry summoned Dobby. The man jumped when the house elf appeared, still wearing a dozen hats, scarves, and even more socks.

“What can Dobby do for Harry Potter, sir!” the elf asked cheerfully.

“This is Richard Miles, from the muggle government.” Harry said and Dobby looked the man up and down before nodding.

“Actually the Department of Education.” Richard clarified.

“I wouldn’t bother with that.” Harry said, trying to sound polite. “Only muggle-born wizards and witches would have any idea what it meant, and saying that would probably make the non-muggle-born think you were being condescending.”

“Oh.” Richard said, his eyes wide at Harry’s bluntness.

“We’re roommates for the next thirty days.” Harry explained. “That means I should at least be civil with you and civility requires that I try to help you do your job without you pissing people off, something your mere presence is likely to do in a few cases.”

“Why is that? Richard asked.

“Dobby, please get Mr.Miles’ baggage from the carriage and put it in the second room.” Harry asked the elf, who immediately disappeared, before answering the question. He pointed the muggle to one of the armchairs, sitting in the other before continuing. Of course Winky appeared at that moment with a tea service, so there was another delay that allowed Harry to gather his thoughts before answering.

“When was the last witch burned alive in England?” Harry asked finally.

“I have no idea.” Richard admitted, as he sipped some tea, his eyes slightly wide.

“February, 1712.” Harry answered. “When was the last time a wizards home was looted by neighbors who discovered his true nature?”

“I don’t know that either.” Richard admitted again.

“Last month.” Harry told him. “Wizards and witches know how muggles react to us, and we ride a precarious balance between the two worlds. We know what prejudice is, we know what hatred is, and we know how little our lives are worth if the muggle world every really learns of us as more than fairy tales. Your presence here, your mission by your government is potentially a threat to our very lives and many in this school will see you as an enemy to hex, wipe the mind of, or kill, to protect themselves. Attacking you won’t seem abnormal, they will think of it as nothing but self-defense.”

“You’re kidding!” Richard exclaimed, looking around worriedly and setting his tea on the table.

“Not one bit.” Harry told him. “That evil wizard you’ve heard about, his stated goal is to kill all the muggles he can and exert wizard dominance over the known world. The man your troops killed at Kings Cross last year, he was the man who opposed the evil wizard and supported friendly relations to muggles. When your soldiers killed him, they killed their greatest advocate in the wizarding world.”

“And now the muggle government is looking like it wants to take over your wizarding world, probably something this evil wizard used to recruit followers.” Richard said, barely above a whisper.

“At least your Prime Minister didn’t send an idiot.” Harry admitted, surprised at the rapid understanding the man showed.

“That’s not really what the Prime Minister is doing.” Richard said quickly. “He’s just trying to get a better understanding of your world and trying to prevent evil wizards like this character you’re talking about from killing our people.”

“Er…I hope that what you are saying is true.” Harry said, taking a sip of his own tea. “If it is, I think things might work out. If it isn’t, you’ll have done nothing but given the wizarding world over to Voldemort and his followers.”

“You seem certain of that.” Richard said, picking his tea back up.

“I am as certain of that as I am that you are sitting across from me.” Harry told him.

“How can you be so sure?”

“In your reading material did you ever read about the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’?” Harry asked.

“I saw a reference to that, but didn’t really understand it.” Richard admitted.

“I’m the Boy-Who-Lived.” Harry said simply. “I’m the only person, muggle or wizard, who survived the killing curse cast by that man, and it’s my destiny to kill him or be killed by him.”

“Oh.” Richard said simply, a look of skepticism on his face.

That was when Harry decided it was going to be a very long month.

© 1997-2022 J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Press; All Rights Reserved; Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her fine people. This story belongs to dkstories.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental. Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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That muggle is going to cause problems..and the headmistress putting Harry in charge prolly won't help.. Doesn't say a lot for her by putting a student in charge of him rather than a teacher or the headmistress herself.

I think Ron and Oliver Wood are going to cause problems. Ron really is a bit of a dunce shooting his mouth off to the wrong people you would have thought he learnt from last year with Choice. Oh well both Harry and Draco will be lucky if they don't have ulcers by the end of seventh year. Should be interesting to see what happens next.

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Sometimes fate throws us a twist to keep us on our toes, playing the part of fate tonight is dkstories :P. Thought provoking chapter, thanks.

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 (send/make final reports) Please choose one or the other of these verbs, either one would make sense, but using both does not.

as good as Draco or I.– as good as Draco or me.


Edited by Will Hawkins
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Richard is intelligent, but he doesn't speak for the PM.  I think the darkness referred to by Trelawney  is the UK government.  Harry definitely needs to be very careful.

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