1,151Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
...
Employees in the Ministry of Magic often knew when to stay out of the way of certain individuals. Whether they were a person of significant power or influence or rather an individual who could actively release pent up aggression in the heat of the moment, it was often better to give these people a wide berth.
Hence, a number of employees were remaining rooted to their desks as they witnessed Amelia Bones marching through the corridors with Sirius Black trailing behind. The Head of the DMLE was not to be trifled with on a normal day, let alone when she was on the warpath. Whoever was the ire of her attention right now would need to make sure that they answered in a calm and precise manner.
Given that it seemed Amelia was on her way towards the Minister's office, a few witches and wizards silently prayed that their boss would still be in working condition after Amelia got whatever it was off her chest.
Cornelius' secretary looked up from her desk and for the briefest of moments looked as if she wished to stand up and prevent Amelia and Sirius from barging into Cornelius' office. She, wisely, chose not to do such a thing.
As Amelia got close to the door however she found herself stopping as an individual stepped out of the office. "Amelia, you look rather fired up this morning," commented Lucius, leaning casually on his cane as the door behind him closed.
"You have no idea," said Amelia, seething as she looked at the calm demeanor Lucius had.
"I do hope you don't vent everything on Cornelius, he has been a bit unwell as of late," said Lucius before he looked past Amelia. "Sirius, I do hope that you're not here to cause trouble."
"I'm trying my best not to," said Sirius. "Amelia on the other hand..."
"Not the time Sirius!" snapped Amelia.
"Well, don't the two of you make a remarkable pairing," said Lucius as he sidestepped out the way. "Do try to keep the Minister in one piece."
Amelia had to resist from snarling at Lucius as she set her sights once more on the door ahead of her and marched in. Sirius dawdled behind her for only a split second as he glared at Malfoy. While he effectively owed the man for having been a key aspect in getting his pardon, it didn't make Sirius like him anymore.
"Ah, Amelia, Sirius, to what do I owe the pleasure?" asked Cornelius as Sirius shut the door behind him, allowing the three of them privacy.
"The cup, where is it!" demanded Amelia, desperate to get hold of that knowledge.
"Yes, I did fear that this would be why you were here," said Cornelius as he lay back in his chair. "If you'd like to take a seat, I will tell you."
Neither Amelia nor Sirius took the invitation to sit down.
"Very well, I guess it is a matter of importance and it would be bereft if we didn't discuss it in an important matter," said Cornelius, his relaxed attitude not helping Amelia's ever-growing twitch. "If you are wondering where it is, I can safely say that it is far away from my office."
"With all due respect Minister, that does not tell me where it is," growled Amelia.
"Well, I was discovering that with Helga's cup in my possession I was, to put it simply, finding that I wasn't myself. I wasn't as chuffed as normal and I was becoming forgetful, losing track of time among a host of other effects. I reached out to Lucius and the two of us deduced that the item must have been cursed. Thankfully, I happen to have some contacts who were more than happy to take the item off my hands and rid it of whatever horrors lay within."
"That, still, doesn't tell me where it is," said Amelia through clenched teeth.
"Sadly, I am unable to properly tell you where it is due to being bound," said Cornelius, doing his best not to retreat into his chair any further than he already was.
"Cornelius, what have you done?" asked Sirius, speaking up for the first time.
"I can't say," said Fudge in little more than a whisper.
Sirius sighed as he understood what the Minister was implying. "You're magically bound not to tell anyone," said Sirius.
Cornelius neither confirmed nor denied the fact but his silence spoke volumes in it's own right. "You blundering fool!" erupted Amelia as she slammed her hands on the desk. "Do you have any idea of what you've done?"
"Amelia, calm down," said Sirius as he placed a hand on her shoulder. Several seconds passed before Amelia exhaled deeply.
"Minister," she said slowly, glaring daggers at Cornelius. "It is of utmost importance that when the cup returns to your possession, you inform me immediately. This is a matter of utmost urgency."
"Yes, of course," said Cornelius.
Amelia wished she could shout or do anything more but given what she had been told, no amount of perseverance could deliver her what she needed. She wasn't even sure whether or not the curse that had been placed on the cup in the first place was the vile spell that they believed it was. The artifact was a thousand years old, there could be any number of curses placed on it over centuries. It was terrifying to wish that that was the best option. It would however mean that there was still one of the abominations out there of which they had no knowledge of where it was.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. Harry more than likely already knew but it was infuriating having to trust that the time traveler was completely telling them everything that he knew. Amelia believed whole heartedly that Harry was on their side, he wouldn't have told them as much as they had if he actively sided with Voldemort. He had actively destroyed chunks of the monster's sole and showed them the remains.
She hated feeling so...worthless. She held a position of power which demanded respect but it all accounted for nothing against a man in the body of a teenager. This was her chance. This was her chance to prove that she could be useful in this war. And her boss had managed to take away the one piece that she could have utilized to help Harry and sent it off to Merlin knows where.
All she could do was wait.
And she hated it.
"If you will excuse us Minister," said Sirius, trying to pull some manner of lightheartedness into the tone with his voice alone. "The day is still young, much to be done and all that."
"Yes, yes, indeed you are right and fear not, I will let the two of you know the moment Helga's Cup is returned to me," said Cornelius as he stood up from his desk. "You have my word."
"Thank you, Minister," said Amelia, the previous fire in her words practically extinguished. It was barely past breakfast but already she felt the need to visit the nearest tavern.
She was exhausted.
...
Harry sat in the gardens, overwatching the grounds and the life amongst it. His eyes darted every time he saw the faintest hint of movement, years of having to play as Seeker having forced him to pay attention to the smallest of notions over a vast area. While he wasn't tracking a golden ball smaller than an apple, he had managed to spot a family of Puffskeins scouring the grounds for food while moving through the light layer of snow that had fallen overnight.
"Morning 'Arry."
"Morning Fleur," replied Harry, his gaze not shifting at the sound of her voice.
"You do not wish to join us for lunch?" asked the silvery haired girl as she took a seat next to him.
"I've already eaten," said Harry. He had, making sure that he got in and out well before any of the other occupants crossed his path. Last night he had enjoyed more than enough of their company and while it was pleasant enough, being the sole male had meant that he was somewhat uncomfortable with some of the topics of conversation.
He knew that Appoline had brought up said conversation topics on purpose.
"Is that so," mused Fleur. "Zen tell me, what plans 'ave you other zen staring into ze distance."
"I don't know, the distance is a rather pretty sight to look at," stated Harry.
"Well, if you wish to explore it we could visit ze stables and take some of ze horses for a ride," offered Fleur.
Harry turned to look at Fleur with one piece of confusion on his mind given what had just been offered. "Horses?" he repeated. "Just horses? Not Hippogriffs, not Thestras, not Unicorns. Just a normal every day horse."
"Well, I wouldn't say zat Étoile would like being described as a, 'normal every day 'orse,' given 'er beauty but to answer your question 'Arry, yes, our stable just has 'orses in it."
"Well..." started Harry, slightly taken aback. "Can't say I've ever riddle a horse before. Sounds like a nice way to spend an afternoon."
"Perfect, it's a date."
Harry didn't respond but his gaze sharpened ever so slightly. Fleur had clearly used the word 'date' deliberately. Had she done so with no real intention behind it? Was she acting as her mother's daughter and was actively trying to play with him and rile him up? Or did she actively wish for this to be seen as a date?
Regardless, he knew that he was going to find out.
...
Draco Malfoy worked on his studies, focusing on the paperwork in front of him. Just because he was home for the Yule holidays didn't mean that the three foot of parchment required for his Herbology assignment or the two foot required for Care of Magical Creatures. Even though he wasn't amongst the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, it didn't mean that he could simply stop.
He also needed to get as much of what he could do done as early as possible. By the sounds of it, their household would be host to a big festivity on the twenty fifth. Member of the Ministry would be present, perhaps even the Minister himself and he would be expected to be able to mingle and interact with every person there and respond appropriately to their every question. They would ask him how his studies were going, how things were at Hogwarts and so on and he would have to behave as his father's son.
As sacrilegious as it sounded, he wished that during that day he could be somewhere, anywhere other than at his homestead. As honoured as he should feel to mingle with the powerful political people his father would muster to their homestead, he was still a teenager. He should be allowed to make some decisions and shape his own fate.
Maybe there was somebody he could write to, somebody that he had seen on the Hogwarts Express who he could sneak off to temporarily just to give himself an hour or two breather.
If not, well, he would force himself to smile like the boy he was expected to be while being paraded about.
...
Harry had to admit that he hadn't particularly known whether or not Fleur had had ulterior motives for having asked him for a ride across the countryside. Given how the afternoon had progressed, Harry didn't mind if there was some hidden agenda in play.
While the black mare he was riding had nowhere near the speed of his Nimbus or even Buckbeak, there was something exhilarating about hearing the rhythmic thuds of the hooves galloping through the field. His grip on the reins was firm as he did his best to keep control of the animal but given the assurances on how well they were trained, Harry felt rather safe.
It also helped that close by, Fleur rode atop Étoile, the two of them working in harmony to glide over the grass. Fleur had told him the name of the horse that he was riding but given it had been three syllables of a language which was foreign to him, Harry had internally begun to refer to his steed as 'Shadow.'
The two of them had worked in tandem for the better part of half an hour, alternating speed depending on the terrain and ensuring that they didn't wear their mounts out. The Delacour Villa was little more than a small dot behind them but both he and Fleur focused purely on the view in front of them as the two of them pulled up their respective steeds. "Well, I knew you pretty much had the advantage, but I can safely say that you have the better views," said Harry as he gazed into the distance.
"I would 'ope so," chuckled Fleur as she gave Étoile a hearty pat on the neck before tugging her reins to the side. "Follow me 'Arry, zere is a pond nearby zat ze 'orses can drink from."
"Lead on," said Harry as he guided Shadow to follow it's stablemate.
The two of them cantered in relative silence before they came to the pond in question. Harry watched as Fleur majestically stepped off of Étoile, landing on the ground with grace. He tried to follow suit.
And failed miserably.
Harry's foot had gotten stuck in the stirrup, resulting in his torso falling backwards as his leg remained in place, causing him to unceremoniously crash on the ground hard on his back. "'Arry! My goodness. Are you alright?" asked Fleur as she rushed to his side, freeing his foot as she did so.
"Yep, all good, let me just get my breath back," said Harry through hearty breaths before he pushed himself into a sitting position. Or at least he tried to before Fleur placed a hand on his shoulder and kept him in place. While forceful, the main thing Harry felt from the touch was warmth.
"Non, stay down and catch your breath," instructed Fleur as her gaze panned over him, checking him for any injuries. "Nothing feels wrong? Zere is no cuts?"
"I mean, you can keep looking me over but I'm fine. But if you want to keep looking at me I won't stop you," said Harry cheekily.
"Oh," started Fleur with a predatory smile. "Ze two of us, alone in a field on a cold winter's day wiz nozing but our bodies to keep each ozer warm. Zey will write novels about zis day."
"I need to remember that I can't get under your skin as easily as the other girls and that you are more than capable of holding your own," said Harry with a smirk.
"What can I say, I am my mozer's daughter," said Fleur proudly before she lay down next to Harry. "Shall we just wait 'ere for a moment, simply enjoy ze company of one anozer and just let the world be?"
Harry considered her words in a much broader perspective. Ever since he had travelled back in time, he had either put up the facade of someone who was much younger than who he was, tried to bring joy to others around him or prepared for things that were years away. To actively spend some time switched off, not physically doing something, not plotting for unpredictable outcomes, it sounded nice.
"Depends, are you big spoon or little spoon?" asked Harry, unable to prevent himself from throwing in an extra quip.
"You are ze smaller of us, it only makes sense zen zat you are ze small spoon," said Fleur as she wriggled herself into position, pushing Harry into his position as she did so.
As Harry felt Fleur's arms wrap protectively around him, her warmth comfortably embracing him, he allowed himself to simply switch off. It wasn't like something terribly was happening at that very moment in time. He could relax.
...
Home.
The word, the concept, it was practically foreign. How long had it been since he had something close to what a home was? Would he remain here for some time or was this merely a temporary place of residency?
Well, all questions for another day.
Walking through the hall, they looked over portraits, pictures and news articles all containing his own image. All of them praising his work or showing him shaking hands with men and women of political power. Not particularly people he would normally associate with but given the situation he was in, it would be foolish to not use every option available to push forward his agenda.
Well, that was another thought altogether. His agenda. His grand plan.
Arguably, it was the same as it had always been. How he went about it however was completely different. His position was one that he had never had the joy of previously holding. Given his previous position, even though it was mighty, it was not a position of political power. This was new. This could work in ways he had yet to explore.
People respected him. Not out of fear, at least not yet. People respected him because of his position. They would do whatever they could to try and get on his good side so that they could gain his favour. While they pandered to him, he could utilize their desires to fulfil his own wishes. A promise of support, a mild bribe, an Imperius Curse, he would use whatever was necessary when the time was right.
He would be patient, bide his time. There was no rush. He wasn't actively being hunted. He wasn't concerned about manpower. He could take as long as he needed in order to mould this world to his liking.
He paused as his gaze fell upon a certain article. The words in it meant nothing to him but rather it was the picture that he was fixated on. The picture in question showed him shaking hands with Albus Dumbledore. The two of them smiled for the press as their hands were clasped firmly together in a show of unity.
He knew that they would meet eventually, his position practically demanded it and how he acted in that moment would be pivotal to his future. A single slip up could spell an absolute catastrophe. However, he had the tongue of a serpent and when that moment came, he would be prepared.
Reaching up, he grabbed hold of the frame supporting the article of him and Albus shaking hands before tearing it down to the ground, the glass shattering as it crashed to the floor. With a swift flourish of his wand, the remnants were removed from existence. The last thing he wanted in his home was a picture of him with Albus Dumbledore.
He breathed in deeply through his nose as he ran his fingers through his sleek hair. Maybe a little more preparation would be beneficial if this was how much a mere picture of Albus riled him up.
Storming through the hall, he paused as he came across a mirror and took a moment to look at himself. He was far more portly than he wished to be but beggars couldn't be choosers. It was a body that wasn't fit for combat but suitable to fight political battles with his rear firmly planted on a chair. They weren't the fights he was used to but he was certain that he would adapt.
After all, he was the Minister of Magic.
He was Cornelius Fudge.
Or at least that was what people would call him.
For beneath the guise of a portly politician lay someone much more powerful.
Lord Voldemort had returned, hidden in plain sight and at the head of the Magical World.
And the world was none the wiser.
...
Hope you enjoyed.