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Harry Potter sat up in his lumpy bed soaked in sweat from another horrendous nightmare about the graveyard. He rubbed his eyes blearily and looked out the window to see that the sun was just coming up. He’d managed a solid two hours of sleep tonight. Nice. The sounds of Dudley’s telly blasting at full volume from down the hall told him that his cousin was likely getting ready for his first day of summer school. The idiot had failed all of his classes at Smeltings and was on final warning. If he couldn’t manage to get passing grades by the end of summer holiday he would be expelled and sent to… public school (dun dun duuuuun).
Harry pulled on his least holey track pants and a pair of trainers and headed downstairs to start breakfast. Dudley would get a half of a grapefruit, a cup of plain yogurt, and a cup of soy milk. Harry might get the second half of grapefruit. If Petunia was feeling magnanimous. He rolled his eyes and scraped the last bit of yogurt from the container into his mouth before Petunia could see. Look at all the protein he was getting. He got the bowl on the table just as Dudley lumbered in and turned on the kitchen telly.
Dudley poked at the bitter fruit with an equally bitter expression on his round face. “This is shite. D’you want it?”
Harry blinked at his cousin several times before he realized he was talking to him. “What? Me?”
Dudley shrugged and shoved the plate toward where Harry was standing by the counter, “I hate it. I’d rather starve, and you already are. It’s not right.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and flushed when his mother walked in and started kissing his face and the top of his head.
Petunia planted an obscenely loud smooch on her son and then looked up with distaste at her nephew, “Well? What are you waiting for? Serve that grapefruit to my Diddykins!”
Dudley huffed and shoved his mother away from him, “Mum, stop! You can’t keep treating him like this.” The wind was knocked out of his sails when his father’s steps could be heard coming toward them.
Vernon stood in the kitchen door glaring at the scene before him. “What’s this about? Dudley. Why is your mum crying?”
Dudley’s head dropped for a split second and then he looked up at his father with defiance in his eyes, “The way you treat Harry isn’t right, Dad. A-and he said that overfeeding is just as abusive as underfeeding a child. You’ve let me eat Harry’s portion of food our whole lives. I got fat and lazy and he should be dead. I… I won’t stand for it anymore.”
Harry heard ringing in his ears as his uncle’s face started shifting from cherry-red to plum-purple as his ire grew. Someone on the telly was blasting a room full of baddies with a gun. People were screaming. He didn’t know what was on the TV and what was coming from his aunt, uncle, and cousin. He put his hands over his ears and walked back to his room slowly. This day was too weird. His door closed with a quiet click and he fell onto his bed with a thump. There went the wobbly leg. Now the bed was tilting at an odd angle. Great. He could still hear gunfire blasting from Dudley’s bedroom telly. This bloody headache!
He put the pillow over his face and screamed until his throat was raw. And then, he sat up. A thought was tickling at the back of his mind that was almost too tempting. The front door slammed taking with it the sounds of his family arguing. Vernon’s car started and took off with a squeal of tires followed by Petunia’s. Harry looked around the room and made the decision. “Dobby?” The house elf popped into his room and looked around despondently at the sparse and broken furniture. “Hey,” Harry said tiredly, “I need your help with something.”
Dobby’s bulbous yellow eyes filled with tears that spilled over and landed on the floor with loud plops, “The great Mister Harry Potter Sir needs Dobby? Dobby will do anything for Mister Harry Potter Sir!”
Harry smiled softly and patted the little guy’s head, “Start with calling me just ‘Harry’, and we can go from there. Can you take me to Gringotts?”
Dobby worried the hem of his tattered tea towel and clicked his fingers to repair the broken bed, “Dobby can only transport someone who isn’t his master in an emergency, sir.”
Harry chewed his lip and looked out the window for a few minutes as he considered what to do. He watched a crow circle the neighbor’s house and perch on the fence between them as his plan blossomed. “Then I guess I need to be your master. How do I bind myself to you?”
Dobby stopped breathing for several seconds. When he finally spoke, his voice was a harsh rasp, “Take my hand if you is serious, Mister Harry.”
Harry took the elf’s hand and nodded once. There was a flash of brilliant blue light that enveloped the pair and then sucked in to wrap around their joined hands. Harry shivered when he felt the bond slide over him like a soft breeze. Dobby released his hand and flexed his own as he stared at it in awe. “Is that it?” Dobby nodded mutely. “Right. Want to go to Diagon and spend too much money? I think our first stop should be the Leaky so we can eat.” Dobby took Harry’s hand once more and they disappeared.
They reappeared again standing just inside the door to the Muggle part of London in The Leaky Cauldron. Harry grinned down at Dobby, climbed onto a barstool, and pat the one beside him for Dobby. The man he remembered from his escape last year flashed a bright smile and started toward him, “Well! What can I do for you this fine day?”
Harry was relieved that Tom didn’t call him by name. He didn’t really want to deal with “fans” right now. “Hello, sir! Dobby and I would like whatever you have that’s easy for breakfast. We don’t want you to go to any trouble on our account, sir.” He sat down the last galleon and handful of sickles and knuts that he had, “This is all I have until I get to the bank. So, just whatever you can make with that, please.”
Tom blinked at the boy nonplussed, “I think I can manage summat with that.”
A few moments later, Tom the barman returned from the kitchen with two plates piled high with fried potatoes, beans, toast, streaky bacon, and eggs. Harry’s mouth watered as he piled the food onto the toast to make a sandwich. It took all of his effort to chew the food slowly and not swallow it in one gulp. When he was finished he washed it all down with a glass of icy orange juice and promised to come back after he was done with his business at Gringotts for lunch and to pay for the rest of his meal. He knew there was far more food than his meagre pocket change would pay for.
Walking down Diagon Alley was just as thrilling today as it was when he came with Hagrid for the first time. Merlin, he wished he could go back and do things differently. He climbed the steps to the bank with Dobby by his side as an equal and nodded at the goblins guarding the doors. He was surprised when one of them beckoned for him to follow before he made it to one of the queues. He was led down a long stone corridor to an office with the name “Bog” etched into a brass plate.
The goblin definitely earned the name Bog. Where Harry was used to seeing bald heads or sparse hair on the beings, this goblin had long green hair braided with gold rings and little trinkets. He reached a gnarled hand across the desk and flashed a smile with too many sharp teeth visible, “Welcome, Mr. Potter! I’m delighted to finally make your acquaintance. We’ve been watching the alley in hopes that you would come soon.”
Harry looked at Dobby sitting in the chair beside him and gave him a, ‘What do I say to that?’ face. Dobby merely shrugged back. “I’m pleased to meet you, sir. But… Why are you waiting for me?”
Bog laced his fingers together on top of the desk and released a heavy sigh, “After the debacle at the school last year, you were granted emancipation. You were entered into a contest where you needed to be an adult, therefore magic sees you as one. You have four more vaults here that you can explore at your leisure.”
Harry’s mouth fell open and he looked around for video cameras. This had to be a prank. “Are you serious? Four vaults? All I wanted was enough gold to purchase a gun like the one in Scarface. Gotta live up to the nickname, ya know?”
The goblin’s eyes lit with curiosity, “And why would the Boy-Who-Lived want such a horrible Muggle device?”
Harry gulped and tried to stop his foot from jiggling with anxiety. “I have a plan. But, I don’t want to talk about it and jinx it. So, I need to go get a load of gold and leave before anyone can ask any more questions. Please.”
Bog nodded slowly while observing the boy and his elf. “I will procure the weapon for you.” He turned his attention to Dobby and lifted a green eyebrow, “Return in three day’s time.”
Dobby shook the goblin’s hand with a wink, “It would be my pleasure. Oh! I can speak properly. Bonding with you was absolutely the right choice. Let’s go buy a new wardrobe for you while we wait.”
Harry snickered under his breath as he slid out of the chair and headed for the door. “Thanks for everything, Bog. I’ll come back for a proper visit once my plan is complete.”
He spent the next several hours wandering through the shops of Diagon Alley with a sack full of gold in his pocket. He dropped a second sack into Dobby’s hands and told him it was his to buy whatever he wanted. Clothes, books, treats, toys, whatever made his little heart happy. For his part, Harry bought all new clothes, a new bag, a proper perch for Hedwig, and a pretty periwinkle scarf he thought Hermione might like. He was thinking about returning home for the day when he passed the entrance to Knockturn Alley. He paused for a breath before making the choice to turn down the lane.
The shops didn’t seem half as scary now as they had the summer before second year. Faint laughter drew his attention. He turned to look in its direction to find a robust woman with thickly corded arms crossed over a muscular chest. Harry tilted his head to the side and considered his options. “Is there something on my shirt? Or have I come out of the loo with toilet roll on my heel?”
The woman took a step forward and leaned down to look him in the eye, “I’m jus’ trying teh figger out why the saviour of the wizarding world is meandering down Knockturn like it’s ‘is home?”
Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m having a day to myself. Thought I’d see what the shops down here have to offer. Why? Do you have something I need?”
She tilted her chin toward Dobby, “D’ya keep the deranged little thing everywhere wif ya?”
Harry laughed and looked at his companion. He was now wearing a stack of newsboy hats in varying patterns and colors that all clashed horribly, as well as five or six pairs of socks on each foot. “I would if I could. He’s handy to have around. Why?”
She sucked her teeth and grinned broadly showing off a mouthful of sharp gold teeth, “Want me to remove the trace from yer wand? Figure someone like you should be able to protect yerself without bein’ expelled for underage magic. You got yerself some dangerous enemies kid.”
Harry snorted, “You got that right. Are you going to try to kill me? Cuz I’ve seen Dobby blast a Death Eater down a corridor with nothing more than a thought.”
The gruff woman laughed and waved for them to follow her into the grimy shop behind her. “Come on, kid. Yer safe wif me.” The inside of the shop was surprisingly clean, considering the exterior. She walked behind a high glass counter with leather wand holsters displayed inside and leaned on the top. Her eyes were deep blue in the light and they sparkled merrily as the boy looked around at the shelves of wands, handles, and holsters. “Ollivander ain’t the only one who knows how teh make a wand. Hand it over, then.”
Harry passed his wand to the woman but held onto it when she wrapped her fingers around the smooth wood, “You know who I am. My companion is Dobby. And you are?”
The shining gold daggers flashed in her mouth again when she smiled, “Gilda. Pleased teh meet ya Dobby and… Hank.” She winked at him and tugged his wand away.
Harry wandered away from the counter while Gilda muttered over his wand. He paused at one of the handle displays and ran his fingers over a polished jade snake wrapped around a soft silver handle. His holly and phoenix feather wand would look great with that. By the time Gilda called out that she was done, he had the jade handle, a wrist holster, a thigh holster, and a new polishing kit. His cheeks flushed pink when he sat his things on the counter.
Gilda looked over the boy’s purchases with the corners of her hard mouth turning up, “You only got one wand. Whatcha need two holsters for?”
He shrugged and pulled his money pouch out of the pocket of his new robes. Screw what his family thought. “I dunno. I just like them both. And maybe I’ll get a second wand.”
She sniffed the air over his head and twitched her nose, “At one’s holly but I can’t tell the core. It’s a sneaky one.”
Harry nodded as he carefully worked the wand in question into the new handle. “Phoenix feather. Voldemort’s wand and mine are connected. The cores came from the same bird.” He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from grumbling about bloody fire chickens.
Gilda hid her shock at the boy’s comfort with the Dark Lord’s name. She was even more shocked to hear that he knew his wand shared a core with the Dark Lord’s. It was rare for a phoenix to ever donate more than one feather. “You need a new wand. Now. ‘At wand was made for you and no one else.”
Harry’s heart sank, “Yeah. I guessed that when Ollivander told me about them being brothers. What do you suggest?”
Gilda whipped around and started pulling boxes from shelves behind her. “You’re too powerful for holly. You’ll likely blow yerself up if ya keep usin’ it. How do you feel about acacia and thestral hair?”
Harry whistled a jaunty tune to himself as he walked down Diagon Alley toward the Leaky. His first wand was sitting on his thigh for the world to see with its new shining jade handle. Hidden in the invisible holster on his wrist was his new wand. Gilda had been right on her first try. Bright reddish-orange acacia wood gleamed in its obsidian and silver handle. The magic singing beneath his skin felt calm for the first time since he first held his wand at eleven years old.
He dropped a pile of gold on the bar in front of Tom and winked, “I told you I’d come back. I ended up buying one of everything and it took a little longer than I thought. What’s your dinner special?”
Tom shook his head as he scooped the coins into his apron pocket, “I’ll have two heaping plates of Gemma’s shepherd’s pie out in a jiffy.”
Harry waited until the old man had shuffled away to cast a silencing charm over himself and Dobby. “We have a lot to discuss.”
When Harry was laying in his bed with a new blanket covering him that evening, Petunia had simply stared at him when she came in to tell him he didn’t need to cook anymore unless it was for himself. His once boring white walls were now a rich deep blue with little white stars scattered around in what looked like random swirls. They would glow when the lights went out and he would be able to see the constellations around him. His bedding was all plush blue to match the walls and ceiling. Dobby had done some impressive magic to repair the bed and make it a hundred percent better than it was before. The wardrobe that had a broken hinge was now filled with new clothes instead of Dudley’s cast-offs. Petunia looked like she might vomit when she left.
Dobby popped back to Gringotts the next day to pick up the weapon. They were shocked to see that the goblins had procured something out of one of Dudley’s wildest programs. Bog instructed Dobby for six hours on the proper way to use it and he promised he was an expert with it when he got home that evening. Harry knew what he needed to do now, but he wasn’t sure he was brave enough. Dobby sighed and clicked his fingers dropping a piece of parchment and a pen on his chest. Harry groaned and picked them up, “Fine! I’ll do it.”
******
Severus Snape sat at the rickety table in his kitchen staring at the snowy-white owl he knew belonged to Potter. She was holding a scroll by the green silk ribbon tied around it and staring back at him with her head tilted to the side exactly how her infernal owner did when he was trying to figure out a puzzle. He was all too familiar with the look considering the boy’s mother had the same expression when they were children. He eventually gave up and took the letter from the beast gently. He didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or vomit as he read the messy scrawl.
Professor Snape,
I hope my letter finds you well. I know this is going to be ridiculous no matter how I put it, so I’m just going to get it over with. I have a plan to kill Tom Riddle without anyone innocent getting hurt. I’m sure you’re thinking about all the ways to flay me and use me for potions ingredients right now, and I really don’t care. I need you to tell me when the next Death Muncher meeting is. I really hope Dumbledore is right about you. But honestly, I don’t trust him anymore either. I don’t know who to trust. You’ve been a right arsehole to me since you met me but you’ve never let me die, and you’ve had plenty of chances. Don’t reply to this letter if it will put you in danger. Burn it and call for Dobby. You can tell him and he’ll come to me. I’m ending this now.
Your new celebrity.
What. The. Fuck. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to will away the headache forming behind his left eye. “Dobby!” he called for the familiar elf. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily when the very elf he was thinking of popped into his small kitchen. “How the devil did Potter bind you to him? I thought you were in Dumbledore’s service now.”
Dobby rocked back on the heels of his mismatched red and blue Converse high-top sneakers. “Mister Harry Potter Sir is being a great wizard. He is asking Dobby to be his companion.”
Severus’ right eyebrow arched high, “Then I would expect you to behave in a manner befitting the companion of a great wizard.”
The little shit smirked at him in response, “Of course, sir. Old habits. Do you have information for me to pass on or were you just testing me?”
Severus motioned for the elf to sit in the chair across from him, “Since we are conversing as equals. I do know when the next meeting will be. How many deaths should I expect?”
Dobby accepted a cup of tea graciously and took a sip before responding, “Harry is only concerned with Riddle and Pettigrew. It would be best if the rat didn’t die in order to exonerate Sirius, but Harry is prepared to drop a corpse in the Minister’s lap. However, our plan has the capacity to take care of a lot more.”
Severus considered what he was hearing for a moment. He couldn’t think of a single thing that would make the boy and elf so confident. “There… Oh, this is going to get me killed. The Dark Lord has freed many of his followers from Azkaban. The bumbling idiots who run the prison haven’t discovered their loss yet and there is no telling how long it will take them to realize. The meeting scheduled for tomorrow evening will be the reintroduction of some of his most vicious lackeys.”
Dobby sat his cup in its saucer with a soft clink and hopped down from the chair, “What time is it scheduled for?”
Severus did not appreciate the slight tremble in his hands. “Six pm in the ballroom of Malfoy Manor.”
The elf nodded sharply, making his silly tower of hats waver, “We will be there. I wouldn’t recommend you or Lady Malfoy attend. I cannot guarantee your safety.”
Severus sat in shocked silence for a very long time after the house elf disappeared. Tomorrow night was either going to be a resounding disaster or a roaring success.
******
Harry tugged on his new black robes and turned to look at the back in the mirror. Dobby had come back last night from Snape’s house and they’d started working on replicating the Death Eater uniform. He slipped the silver skull mask over his face and felt his heart race when he looked at his reflection. He’d noticed that each of the masks was unique when he was being chased around the graveyard. When he and Dobby created his mask they etched a thin, nearly invisible lightning bolt into the silver where his scar sat along with a multitude of protective runes.
A thrill ran up his spine when Dudley whistled from the door. “I don’t know where you’re going, but you look scary, mate.”
Harry laughed and pushed the mask up to sit on top of his head. “I appreciate it. I don’t think you’ve ever found me scary.”
Dudley’s cheeks turned pink and he ducked his head, “Yeah. I’m sorry about the way I’ve been. I didn’t know any better for a long time. And then I was afraid to go against Dad, ya know. I should have spoken up a long time ago. I was so scared that…”
He clapped a hand on his cousin’s meaty shoulder and tried to force a smile, “I get it. He would have beat you. We’re just lucky you’ve taken up boxing at school and can stand up to him now. I really do appreciate what you did the other day. Listen,” he hesitated and felt a lump in his throat, “I might not come back tonight. I’m headed to do something really stupid. Just… Take care of yourself, Big D.”
Dudley took a step back in surprise, “What? You’re not even fifteen! What are you gonna do?”
“I can’t tell you, man. It’s not my first time facing death, though. How’s this? I’ll tell you about all the stupid shit I’ve done if I live through tonight.” He laughed when Dobby popped in scaring Dudley. “Is it time?” The elf nodded and eyed the bigger boy cautiously. Harry took Dobby’s hand and looked at Dudley one last time, “Don’t wait up.”
They landed behind a tree and Harry quickly pulled his mask down and cast the strongest Notice Me Not spell he could muster before he stepped out and joined the group of Death Eaters headed for the front door. He recognized Snape by the unnecessary amount of silver buttons on his waistcoat and moved to his side. A soft touch to the back of the stoic man’s hand was all it took to get his attention. Black eyes glistened from behind a silver mask with swirling lines that never stopped shifting as they scanned the slight figure beside them.
When they passed through the open double doors, Harry was greeted by the sight of Lady Malfoy and Draco huddled in the corner with panic evident in their expressions. Harry wanted to drop the facade and tell the frightened pair that they would be fine. All they needed to do was stay out of the ballroom. He desperately wanted to convey that to the professor but was afraid of blowing his cover too soon. He felt a wave of relief when he followed the pack into the ballroom and the Potions Master hung back to speak with Draco and his mother.
He looked toward the other end of the empty space to see an ornate golden throne. Typical. What a narcissist. The past month hadn’t done a damn thing for Moldy Voldy’s appearance. He was just as shiny and hairless as he was in the graveyard. And there was Pettigrew, dumpy and rat-faced as ever, groveling on his knees beside the throne. He supposed the wild-looking witch draped over his shoulder was one of the prisoners who’d just been released. She also looked like she could be related to his godfather. Gods. That was Bellatrix Lestrange. He really hoped this plan worked.
The room filled with revelers excited to celebrate the return of their lord and his favorites. Harry’s heart rate jumped when the double doors to the room clicked shut. Showtime.
The serpentine man stood slowly from his throne with his arms spread wide like he was some kind of messiah come to save them from their sins. “My dear followers. How I have longed to see you all together once again. Time may have taken its toll but we will never give up on our cause. I am eternal. I cannot be killed. I. Will. Win.” The Death Eaters cheered until he held his hands up for silence. “Yes, yes. Let me feel your excitement. Muggles and Mudbloods will be eradicated under my rule. Witches and Wizards will rule the world. I will rule the world.”
Harry looked around the room to find the best place to hide and found a pillar not far away. The snake-faced bastard asked for the group to move into a semi-circle around him so that he could see them better, giving Harry the perfect chance to duck into the hiding spot and slip his invisibility cloak around him. As soon as he was invisible, he walked quietly to the outer edge of the mass of people to position himself behind a handy suit of armor. He tapped the pendant around his neck that was paired with one on Dobby to let him know it was time. And then all hell broke loose.
Voldemort was gazing at his gathered minions as they shuffled to get into the formation he requested. He wanted to see all of their faces so that he truly knew who was still on his side. He could scent deceit from a mile away. A casual flick of his fingers dissolved the silver masks from every face. His lips twitched when he didn’t see Severus. His eyes landed on Lucius and he raised his forehead where eyebrows should have been, “Where is our spy? We can’t begin a meeting without his intelligence from the inside.”
There was a pop and suddenly the strangest being any of them had ever seen was standing in the middle of their circle. Upon further inspection, they could see that it was a house elf. The elf just happened to be wearing sixteen brightly colored hats and no less than seven pairs of socks on each leg. Somehow, none of the socks matched. The elf was holding a strange black device in his arms.
Lucius took a step forward and gasped, “Dobby!?”
Dobby’s face split in a manic grin. “Mister Harry Potter Sir sends his regards! Say hello to my little friend!”
Gunshots blasted as a spray of bullets hit Voldemort, Bellatrix, and Peter. Dobby spun on his heel while still holding the trigger down. People were screaming and running in every direction in an attempt to escape the insane elf. Harry realized that Snape had locked the doors from the outside when bodies slammed into them and started battering them with fists. Three people sent blasting hexes at the doors just as they were each hit in the chest with bullets. Their bodies fell in a heap as more climbed over them to get to the exit. Dobby continued his attack until every last person in the ballroom was lying motionless on the floor in growing pools of crimson.
At last, the explosions stopped. Harry’s ears rang in the stretching silence. He poked his head out from behind the suit of armor, that was now filled with dents and holes, before pulling off his cloak. He leaped across the mounds of corpses to pull Dobby into his arms when he realized his friend was quaking. He stroked his back and shushed the poor thing as he laughed maniacally. “There, Dobby. It’s alright. They’re all gone. You did it!”
Deep laughter filled his ears and he whipped around with a wand in each hand. A figure wrapped in shining black leather from head to toe took a step forward, “You certainly did! I don’t think anyone expected the end of Tom Riddle to come at the hands of a house elf. You’ll go down in history as the greatest house elf warrior to ever live.”
Harry fell back on his bum and felt all of the air rush out of his lungs in a whoosh. “You're Death. I’ve heard you whispering to me every time I was close to dying. Telling me to just hold on. I hear you whisper in the cloak, too.”
Death stepped over Peter’s dead body with a sneer, “Straight to torture for everyone here. Ah, yes. My cloak. Ignotus Peverell did well requesting my cloak as his prize.” A black boot with glistening silver spikes rimming the toe was pulled back and then slammed into Voldemort’s bulbous white head. The skull cracked and spilled out its gory treasure with a sickening squelch. “This fucker is more trouble than he’s worth. I’m doing you a favor and killing his remaining Horcruxes so you don’t have to hunt them down.”
Harry gulped and nodded, “Okay. What’s a Horcrux?”
Death laughed, “You can ask Dumbledore that question after you dump this pile of shit off at the Ministry. I just wanted you to know that this is it for you. Your fight is over.”
Dobby coughed and stood up from where he’d collapsed, “Mister Death? Should I use my Colt AR-15 with a rocket launcher attachment to take care of Dumbles? He’s just as evil as Voldemort.”
Death tipped his head back and laughed, “Albus has already sealed his own fate. He went after one of Tommy’s trinkets and cursed himself. He’ll be meeting me before your school year is over. Oh! That reminds me, tell Snape to give him placebos.”
Harry nodded absently when the entity vanished. “Sure thing. Dobby? Take us to the Ministry.”
******
Cornelius Fudge was having a bad day. Dementors were in Surrey killing innocent muggles, Sirius Black was still missing, Dolores wanted to go to Hogwarts to teach (for some ridiculous reason), Potter was claiming You-Know-Who had returned, Barty was still missing, and the Wizengamot were breathing down his neck to fix it . And that was just for starters! Magnolia was going to leave him. He was going to lose his position as Minister for Magic and his wife was going to leave with the children. And now Albus Dumbledore was standing at his secretary’s desk asking to see him.
He straightened his robes and walked out to the main room of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Aurors were milling about in and around cubicles discussing cases and their plans for the weekend. A few had paused to watch Dumbledore. Bloody nuisance. “Albus!” he called brightly to the old meddler, “What can I do for you? Don’t worry Aggie, I can always find time for our Chief Warlock.”
Albus beamed at the man and clapped his hands, “Too right, Cornelius! We’ve been old chums for decades now. How is the investigation coming along?”
Cornelius mentally rolled his eyes and smiled externally, “Which investigation are you curious about? You know we can’t talk about anything for fear of interfering.”
There was a loud bang, followed by a square of cubicles exploding. Only, they hadn’t really exploded so much as they had relocated themselves to the ceiling in an aggressive manner. Harry Potter stood in the center of the destruction zone covered in blood accompanied by a house elf who was wearing too many clothes which were also soaked in blood. Lying at their feet were what looked like three corpses.
Albus took a step forward and found himself stuck to the floor by a strong sticking charm. “Harry, my boy. What is the meaning of this?”
A terrifying look crossed the teen’s face as a drop of congealing blood dripped from his nose. A line of white teeth sparkled from what was more grimace than smile, “Oh, goodie! You’re all here. I’ll only have to explain it once.” He pointed down at the palest corpse at his feet, “Voldemort is dead.” As he moved his finger over the other two bodies he said, “Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange. We left the rest of the Grave Munchers lying in their puddles of blood in Malfoy Manor. There are a whopping three survivors of the incident. Snape has taken Lady Malfoy and Draco to an undisclosed location for protection. They are innocent. Dobby,” the elf waved merrily with the hand not holding a weapon, “wiped out the entire faction in one fell swoop.”
Dobby bounced up and down excitedly and sang out, “I like Colt AR-15s!”
Harry chuckled darkly and pat the elf on the back, “Damn right we do. Thank you, Tony Montana. I’m keeping the remaining Malfoys and Snape in protective custody along with my godfather until the Wizengamot pulls their heads out of their arses and sacks this meddling sack of thestral shite.” He pointed at Dumbledore and growled his distaste for the man.
Cornelius looked askance at the headmaster for a split second, “Come into my office, Lord Potter.”
******
Harry sat back and kicked up his feet on the coffee table in the sitting room of Grimmauld Place. He and Dobby had obliterated the Death Eaters and their leader a whole week ago and were still hiding out until the magical world had settled a bit. Dumbledore was currently unemployed and under investigation by the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizardry after Harry’s testimony led to hundreds of other witnesses coming forward with evidence of his misdeeds. His manipulations looked like they went all the way back to before he graduated from Hogwarts. None of it mattered, though. The curse from trying on the Slytherin ring was inches from hitting his heart and ending his life. It was a matter of hours.
Harry pressed the button on the remote control that started the movie and looked to his left where Draco was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you ready for this? This was our inspiration for the whole plan.” Al Pacino appeared on screen and everyone in the room got quiet as Scarface began.
Draco belted out a laugh and relaxed for the first time in a week, “Ha! Perfect… what did you call it? Film? Yeah, perfect film for you, Scarhead!”