Dear Wizarding Britain
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm not even sure I can claim the plot, since I have read plenty of fanfics that go along with what I'm currently thinking about as I write this.
A/N: Yes, I know I said I wasn't going to write anymore stories until I was finished with the ones I had pending, but this plot bunny wasn't going away, so I thought I'd start writing it, while it was fresh in my mind. Not to mention, my muse is still a bit stuck when it comes to my Twilight crossover story. At this point, I don't know if this will be a one-shot or a full-blown story, but we'll see by the time my steam runs out. Also, this will have nothing to do with my Harry and Merope Universe.
A/N 2: I found a slight discrepancy in Harry's letter that I felt needed more clarification in regards to his vault and taking away any leverage the Ministry may have. I'm halfway through chapter two, and will hopefully have it proofed and posted soon.
A/N 3: Found more typos while refreshing my mind on what I want to write for chapter three, so this update is just to correct those. The content of this chapter has not changed, except to correct the errors I found.
THE DAILY PROPHET
THE BOY-WHO-LIVED IS THE BOY-WHO-LEFT!
By: Rita Skeeter
That's right, Dear Readers, you have read that headline correctly. Our own Boy-Who-Lived has abandoned us to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!
After he failed to arrive at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the start of term for his sixth year, on September the first, we received the following letter from our Chosen One.
After reading said letter, I say good riddance to bad rubbish, but I'll let you read the letter for yourself to make your own decision.
LETTER TO THE EDITOR
by: Harry J. Potter
Dear Wizarding Britain:
So, after being classed as disturbed, dangerous, and unstable for telling the truth about the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, I'm suddenly being hailed a hero again, and am now your Chosen One, now that our illustrious minister of magic (note the sarcasm, because I think he's an idiot) finally saw proof with his own eyes that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back among the living. (Note from Editor, Mr. Potter used You-Know-Who's name, but we renamed it, so as to not cause mass hysteria.)
Why you idiots think I would wish to remain in a society as wishy-washy as this one has turned out to be is beyond my comprehension. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (renamed) can have you and this society for all I care. I wash my hands of you. I can count on one hand the number of people I care about, and the ones I leave behind are all protected, so I'm not worried for their safety.
By the time you have read this letter, you'll find me long gone, and you have Minister Fudge, Madam Umbridge, Headmaster Dumbledore, and all the idiots who organized the Triwizard Tournament to thank for that. Since I was forced to compete in the tournament that was for-of-age wizards only, Magic itself emancipated me, which was only reaffirmed when Fudge and his Toadie sent dementors after me in order to shut me up and then force a full trial of the Wizengamot for "underage magic" when I saved my life and that of my cousin's by using the Patronus Charm.
Oh, and let's not forget to mention that Umbridge subjected the students at Hogwarts, including myself, to the use of Blood Quills! I have scars on the back of my hand from the bloody lines she forced me to write during her bloody detentions! She attempted to use the cruciatus curse on me as well. And all of that with the approval of the bloody minister!
Additionally, I was emancipated according to my godfather's will after his murder by Bellatrix Lestrange. For those idiots among you that didn't know, my sworn godfather was Sirius Black, who was thrown into Azkaban without a trial and stayed there for 12 years until his escape back in my third year at Hogwarts. My sworn godfather was framed by the traitor Peter Pettegrew, who was the real secret keeper for my parents, and gave up the secret to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (renamed). Proof was given to Fudge at the end of my third year, but the moron chose to believe Snape, who hated my godfather. So, yeah, really unbiased and impartial testimony there.
It is with great pleasure that I inform you that I have already removed all of my assets, including my family vaults and the vaults inherited from my godfather, from Britain, so I'll have absolutely no reason to return, and the Ministry has no bloody leverage to try to force me back by locking them down.
Not even the so-called prophecy can make me return, as I have eliminated the "marked as his equal" portion from the equation. Considering the fact that I'm no longer marked, the prophecy no longer applies to me. Dumbledore should know exactly what this means, as he was the one who heard the prophecy, hid my parents, and then subsequently sent me to be raised by abusive, magic-hating muggles. He wanted me to be raised with no self-worth, to be someone to be easily manipulated into seeing him as my savior and willing to sacrifice my life for the greater good because my life wasn't worth living.
Well, guess what, Dumbledore, my parents didn't sacrifice themselves just so I could turn around and do the same. If you believe a sacrifice is going to be so important to the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (renamed), then you can sacrifice yourself and see how that turns out for you. My parents wanted me to live, and so that's what I shall do.
To the Weasleys, you thought I wouldn't find out you were paid by Dumbledore to befriend me and keep me ignorant. You were paid by Dumbledore directly from my trust vault! But that wasn't enough for you, it seems, since Mrs. Weasley couldn't help but to take extra from my vault all those times she bought my school supplies. I noticed that she never returned to me what she didn't spend. And last but not least, you intended to dose me with love potions, so that I would fall in love with Ginevra Weasley, marry and knock her up as soon as possible, so that when I sacrificed myself for the greater good, she and our child would inherit my family fortune, of course, sharing that vast wealth with her family would only be a natural occurrence. I won't go into all of the other contingency plans of yours I've discovered, just know that I know about all of them.
Snape, I found mum's diary. I know everything. Whatever excuse you had for treating me the way you did is not good enough for the way you treated the only child of your supposed best friend. I hope she gives you hell in the afterlife, and I won't feel a bit sorry for you.
Remus Lupin, you should have been there for me as a child, but you weren't. Sirius had an excuse, he was locked up; however, you were out free, but I still didn't know you until my third year at Hogwarts. And even then, you didn't come out and tell me about your connection to my parents right away, if circumstances hadn't required it, I doubt I would have ever found out how we were connected. To this day, I can count on one hand the amount of times you have tried to reach out to me, since the time you left Hogwarts at the end of my third year. Because I wasn't important enough for you to try to stay connected to, I see no reason to make any attempts to remain in touch with you now that I've gone.
My true friends and allies know who they are, there is no need for me to place their names here to make a bigger target on their backs. Just know that precautions have been taken and they will be very well protected and are well aware of all dangers that they face due to their connection with me.
To the rest of the sheep of Wizarding Britain that believed all the lies and sensational stories printed in the Prophet and written by the gossipmonger, Rita Skeeter, all I can say is f**k you (redacted, as we at the Prophet refuse to publish profanity).
Off living my life,
Harry J. Potter
Disclaimer: This letter was prepared and owled to us by Harry J. Potter in his personal capacity. The opinions expressed in this letter published in today's Daily Prophet are Mr. Potter's own and do not reflect the view of those of The Daily Prophet.
Note from the Editor: We attempted to reach out to those mentioned in Mr. Potter's letter to see if anyone wished to publish a response, but all answers received were, "No comment." However, I have it on good authority that investigations are now underway and being conducted by the DMLE, so we will, hopefully, have some answers to the accusations put forth by Mr. Potter in his letter in our next edition of The Daily Prophet.
Harry smirked as he folded up the paper that Dobby had delivered to him, as he leaned back in his lounging chair on his private island that he had inherited from his godfather, and took a sip of one of those tropical drinks, that he couldn't remember the name of, that Winky had made for him.
He had already warned the Weasley twins of the contents of the letter he sent to the Prophet, as they were the ones who overheard the family with their extendable ears and told Harry about all the plots they had overheard, then they swore an oath that they had no prior knowledge, nor did they approve of what their family had done.
It seemed that Bill and Charlie became aware later on, but showed no indication they cared one way or the other.
Percy, as far as Harry was concerned, was written off whether he was aware of the plot or not, because he backed the Ministry over believing him.
Harry didn't name Hermione in his letter one way or the other, but he was leery about trusting her with anything important, due to her unshakeable belief that those in authority were always right and should be respected and trusted. Her rebellion during fifth year notwithstanding, when she wanted to start the DA, because that was interfering with her grades and that was something she would not tolerate. But Harry thought asking her to go against Dumbledore and the establishment might be a bit too much for her sensibilities to be able to handle. He still tasked Dobby with keeping an eye on her from time to time, while he was spying for him at Hogwarts. He would make the decision before the end of the year as to whether or not he was going to try to make contact with her.
Right now, other than the twins, the only other people that Harry knew he could trust was Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. All four of these friends had been provided with emergency porkeys that would bring them to a safe location where either Winky or Dobby would meet them, check them for tracking charms, and then pop them over to him at the island.
Harry had briefly considered enrolling at another school in order to finish the last two years of his magical education, but considering he had inherited more money than even his many times great grandchildren could spend in their lifetimes, and he had no intention of working for any sort of Ministry, chances were that they were all as corrupt as the one in Britain.
Leading the DA had shown Harry that he learned better by self-study, than he did with the help of a professor, so he intended to do as much self-study as possible. Perhaps one day he would decide to sit his N.E.W.T.s, but he wasn't going to stress over it right now.
Like with Harry's magical education, he briefly considered continuing his muggle education, but not having been enrolled since he was ten years old, he thought it would be suspicious if he tried to get back into muggle education. He knew he was wealthy enough to not have a need for it, but decided to keep his options open. Perhaps he would speak with the goblins at the local Gringotts and see about getting some muggle documentation forged, so that once he caught himself up to his A-levels with self-study, he might be able to enroll in one of the muggle universities in the future.
Absentmindedly, Harry rubbed his forehead where his scar used to be and continued to reminisce. Who would have thought that muggle plastic surgery would have taken care of the headaches and visions he had been receiving from Voldemort? He had to do a quick obliviate on the surgeon after he commented about the scream he had heard when the scar was surgically removed, which caused Harry's mind to immediately jump to the diary that he stabbed with the basilisk fang in the Chamber of Secrets. He wondered about it very briefly before he decided, "You know what? It's no longer my problem. My connection has been severed and the prophecy is now void. I'm sure Dumbledore had a plan that I've royally screwed up, but I don't feel guilty one bit, since the bastard was planning for me to commit suicide by sacrifice. He probably even knew about whatever that was in my scar."
Harry shook his head and closed his eyes and just listened to the sound of the waves coming in and enjoyed the feel of the sun on his skin. Sirius might have died and things might have seemed a bit dim for him for a while, but things were starting to look up. The bearded goat no longer had any say in where he lived and had no way of finding him right now, since Harry had paid the goblins to make sure that the island could not be found by even Fawkes.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:
The students of Hogwarts were all in a flutter after the delivery of The Daily Prophet.
Draco Malfoy was heard screaming, "How dare that blood-traitor leave the Black Family Vaults to that half-blood coward! I was supposed to be the Black heir!"
Daphne Greengrass rolled her eyes and sneered, "What's wrong, Draco dear, not as special as you were led to believe?" She wanted to make a comment about it being less money to waste in support of You-Know-Who, but she wasn't a complete moron, for Merlin's sake.
"You'll shut your mouth, Greengrass, if you know what's good for you." Malfoy threatened with a snarl.
"And you'll shut it if you know what's good for you, Malfoy," said Blaise Zambini lazily. "One, you're creating a scene, which is frowned upon by polite society, you're lucky none of the professors treat us the way Snape treats the Gryffindors, we'd be down 200 points if that was the case. Two, you'll do well to remember that Miss Greengrass is a Lady and it's highly improper to issue threats to her. Merlin, how you weren't sorted into Gryffindor with the way you act, I'll never know. You're almost as bad as the Weasel, except with better table manners."
Malfoy and the majority of the Slytherins gasped in shock. Malfoy glared, "You take that back."
"Why should I? It seems to me that you're just afraid to admit the truth," Blaise responded nonchalantly, as he picked off an imaginary speck from his robes.
Daphne fought to contain her smirk, but mostly remained straight-faced.
"How dare that son of a mudblood say that about my family!" screamed Ron Weasley, from across the Great Hall.
Ginny Weasley burst in tears, then proceeded to flee the Great Hall.
Hermione whacked Ron on the back of the head and yelled, "How dare you call him that, you sound like Draco Malfoy! And I can't believe your family would do that to Harry! I thought they were a good family. I swear if you had plans to love potion me the way it seems your family planned to potion Harry, I'll curse your bullocks from your body in such a way that they will never get reattached!" Then she stood up from the table and proceeded to stomp out of the Great Hall. Her faith in authority was greatly shaken after having read Harry's letter, and she was saddened by the fact that Harry had not been in contact with her. She heard Snape calling out after her, "Two hundred points from Gryffindor for causing an unnecessary scene."
"Fuck you," Hermione whispered to herself, as she walked the rest of the way out of the doors. She had plans to make. With Harry gone, she was a sitting duck, as she was known as one of his closests friends, even if he didn't appear to trust her right now. She would find a way to make it up to him one day, though. As she made her way towards Gryffindor Tower, she realized there was no point in her staying at Hogwarts any longer, as Harry had been her only true friend that was keeping her at this backwards school. So she decided then and there that she was going to write and send a letter to her parents and sneak away at the next Hogsmeade weekend, escaping to Diagon Alley using the floo at the Hog's Head Inn. Then she could empty what little she had in her vault at Gringotts and take a cab to her parents' home. Hopefully by that time, her parents will have already made arrangements to leave the country. She could enroll in another magical school after they had gotten settled. Thankfully, she had already taken her O.W.L.s, or it would have been next to impossible for her to leave.
Perhaps, once she was settled, she would be able to find a way to get in touch with Harry, hopefully, to make amends and tell him how sorry she was to have trusted in the professors more than she had him.
Snape glared down at the paper he held in his hands. "That arrogant fool!" he seethed aloud. Inwardly, he reflected that Potter was right, there was no good reason for the way he had treated the boy, and he knew that if there was an afterlife and he were to meet Lily again, she would kick his arse. It didn't help his conscience feel any better that it was Dumbledore had instructed him to be extra harsh on the boy, but he should have argued more that he could still maintain his position as spy, while at least being civil with the boy. He didn't have to show the child outright hatred and disdain.
If Dumbledore had been sucking on a lemon drop, he would have choked on it and died. He struggled to maintain his grandfatherly mask and hide his disappointment as he glanced down at his dying hand. He knew he didn't have much time left before the curse on his hand reached his heart. He had admitted to himself that it had been very unwise to retrieve that horcrux by himself, and allowing himself to be distracted by the Resurrection Stone before he could consider the curses that had been placed on the ring.
He had intended to review memories of Tom Riddle with Harry this year, give him little bits of knowledge about the horcruxes that it would be his destiny to destroy, but, no, the boy had to go and run away. He should have started those loyalty potions he had been planning on sooner, but he hadn't expected Harry to rebel during the course of the summer. He thought he still had time to make sure he remained firmly under control, but, no, his weapon had to suddenly grow a backbone.
He had also intended for Harry to retrieve the memory about the horcruxes for him from Horace Slughorn, but now those plans were shot until he could get his hands on that blasted boy.
Something was going to have to be done, but he just didn't know what. Perhaps he could try to trick him back by sending a portkey letter with Fawkes.
Minerva sipped her tea with a smirk. She was glad Harry had been able to get away from Dumbledore's schemes. She might have supported the man in the past, but her faith in the man had been steadily waning over the past two years. She wished that she had helped Harry more than she had, but Dumbledore had made it nearly impossible for her to. The man wouldn't even let her make him a prefect for Godric's sake, and the boy would have done a thousand times better than Ronald Weasley. After having read Harry's letter in the paper, she now understood exactly why Albus was so insistent on Weasley getting the position instead of Harry, though.
Ministry of Magic:
Chaos. That's what the Ministry of Magic currently was. The atrium was overflowing with the witches and wizards of Britain calling for Minister Fudge's head and that of Undersecretary Umbridge.
Being the coward that he was, Minister Fudge had locked himself up in his office and left the chaos for the aurors to deal with. Damn that Harry Potter! How dare he drag his good name through the mud. Now there wasn't even a shred of hope that he could remain in office.
"Well, there's nothing for it now, I may as well pack all my belongings and destroy any evidence that could get me thrown into Azkaban," Fudge mumbled to himself, as he started packing up his office.
Madam Umbridge was seething. How dare that stupid half-blood include her name in that letter of his. It seems she was too lenient on the brat. She should have ordered the dementors to kiss the boy while he was on the way to Hogwarts. Better yet, she should have smuggled him a portkey that would drop him directly into Azkaban with the beasts.
Oh, when she got her perfectly proportioned little hands on him, she was going to snap his scrawny little neck. He wouldn't be able to stay hidden forever, and when he was found, she would make sure he would pay.
Before she could fantasize about how she was going to make him pay, the aurors were knocking down her door.
"Deloris Umbridge, you are hereby under arrest for use of a Blood Quill on a minor," one auror began, but Umbridge interrupted before he could finish and said smugly, "Hem hem. According to the boy's letter, he was emancipated by that time, so by all accounts, he was an adult."
"That may well be the case, Your Toadship, but Mr. Potter was still a student, and the other students you tortured with that device were minors. We've had owls all morning from students who claimed you had used Blood Quills on them as well." The second auror, who happened to be Tonks, stated.
Umbridge blustered at the Your Toadship comment, "How dare you call me such names. I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. And as far as any students that could claim that I forced them to use such a device, I doubt the Wizengomet would believe a bunch of mudbloods and blood-traitors."
The third auror present said, "Ms. Toad, you were also accused of attempting to use an Unforgivable on the Boy-Who-Lived, which carries a life sentence in Azkaban, as you well know. Not to mention the dementors you are purported to have sent after the boy in order to have him murdered."
When Umbridge again attempted to argue and resist arrest, she was quickly disarmed and silenced and marched down to the holding cells to await trial. Her photo would be on the front page of the next morning's edition of The Daily Prophet, much to everyone's delight.
Voldemort could be heard cackling in glee, much to the amazement of his Death Eaters, after having read the letter that had been sent to The Daily Prophet by Harry. Dumbledore had lost his hold on the Golden Boy, now Britain would be his without a fight!
A/N: So I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this story quite yet, but this plot came to me this morning and it would not leave me alone until I wrote all of this out. It will probably be more than a one-shot, considering there is probably more to be written, but I don't anticipate this story being as long and my current stories are probably going to be. Maybe my muse will show up again for my Twilight story, now that I've gotten the start of this one off my chest.