They landed in the midst of a party atop a grand stage at the back of a large ballroom.
Dozens of witches and wizards dressed in fine robes stood around the ballroom with drinks in their hands, laughing merrily as though they weren’t waiting for the complete collapse of the Ministry of Magic. Thousands would’ve died had Harry not disarmed the explosives planted around the Ministry, and they were all here celebrating.
Just seeing it made Harry sick to his stomach.
“Our grand heroes have arrived!” Rhys Orpington’s voice boomed from deeper in the hall. “The Ministry has fallen! Our time has finally come! We will—”
Sparks erupted on either side of the stage as miniature fireworks exploded overhead. Everyone turned to the stage and began clapping instinctively. Harry recognised so many of the faces staring up at him: Selwyn, Gamp, Rosier, Wilkes, Pyrites, Zabini, Fleamont, Moreau, Nott. He would need to review this memory in a pensieve to compile a list of exactly everyone who was here, but right now, he was just trying to assess the threats.
It took nearly three whole seconds before anyone in the ballroom realised that Harry and his Aurors weren’t the people they were waiting for. Looks of confusion were replaced by terror when they saw Harry. They acted like they were seeing a ghost come back to life, which he supposed wasn’t too far from the truth.
“Lay down your wands and surrender!” Harry shouted, his voice carrying.
A few did so instantly, but then one of the distant doors out of the ballroom slammed open and a few people sprinted out to try to flee before they could be caught. They could run today, but it would only be a matter of time before Aurors were knocking on their doors.
In the distance, Harry spotted Rhys standing next to Theodore Nott and Julian Oakes. Oakes looked panicked and sweaty as his eyes darted back and forth. Were it not for the two other men at his side, he probably would’ve run with the others. Nott and Rhys were both staring back at Harry, whispering quickly to each other.
Whatever they were trying to plan, Harry would put a stop to it.
“Anyone who surrenders will not be harmed!” Harry announced, flicking his fingers in both hands behind his back. It was a standard signal that told his Aurors to start to fan out.
Moving smoothly but cautiously, the twelve Aurors with Harry and Gabrielle made their way down the small sets of stairs at either end of the stage with their wands drawn. They reached the first groups of witches and wizards and began collecting their wands from them.
“Those two are planning something,” Gabrielle warned him as she watched Rhys and Nott.
“I’ll deal with them,” Harry said. “Watch my back.”
Harry leapt off of the stage, making anyone near where he landed take a couple steps back. They were scared of him.
Using that, he strode confidently down the ballroom until he stood just a comfortable distance away from Rhys and Nott. Anyone else that was nearby quickly spread themselves out, leaving a wide open space around the three of them. Gabrielle came to a stop several feet behind Harry, watching those around him for any potential threats.
“I must admit that it is quite a surprise to see you alive and well,” Rhys smiled thinly at Harry. “I was certain that my niece had killed you. Or are you merely an impostor using Polyjuice Potion to try to scare us into submission?”
“I think you know the answer,” Harry replied. “If Voldemort couldn’t kill me, do you really think that Nerys would be capable of it?”
“No, I suppose not,” Rhys admitted. “But even the greatest among us can falter. After all, how could a mere half-blood like yourself kill the greatest wizard we’ve ever known?”
“Voldemort was a half-blood himself,” Harry reminded him.
“Ah, your commitment to that story certainly is unwavering. I do not care what falsified evidence you continue to bring forth or what lies you spew; it is all irrelevant now. The past is the past, and it’s time to discuss the future.”
“You could’ve done that by joining the election,” Harry pointed out.
“And waste my days trying to educate the foolish masses?” Rhys snorted. “I admire you and Lady Greengrass’ belief that you can achieve such a thing. Her speeches have been effective, but how long would it take before those same masses call for her head when she fails to live up to the promises she’s made?”
“Why would she ever fail to achieve them?”
“Because the Ministry of Magic is a bloated cancer upon our world,” Rhys snapped, genuine loathing seeping into his tone for a moment before he recomposed himself. “It follows the flawed beliefs of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. We should not cower from those who are lesser than us. We should rule over them as we were always meant to.”
“Muggles are no less powerful that us—”
“I am aware of their monstrous technological creations,” Rhys interrupted. “They make things due to a lack of being able to replicate such effects with their own innate abilities. We are capable of surpassing far greater heights than them should we put our minds to it, but our world is growing smaller. With each passing decade, we are steadily being closed in on by these muggles. We have less land to roam and thrive in while they continue to develop advanced technologies that can find evidence of us. It won’t be long before their witch-hunts return and we are forced to fight back. I chose to make the first move.”
“You do realise that if your plan to blow up the Ministry had worked, the International Confederation of Wizards would step in and assert their authority to ensure that the Statute of Secrecy did not fall.”
“They would not have arrived in time,” Rhys argued. “They still won’t.”
Harry cocked his head to the side. “Your bombs are disarmed. The Ministry is safe.”
“But are you?”
Harry’s wand slipped into his hand as Rhys drew his.
“Do you truly believe that was my only plot?” Rhys laughed as he gestured with his wand wildly, like he was drunk on power. “I have explosives placed all across Britain at every magical settlement. The wards protecting those places will leave craters across the country.”
More explosives? How had he managed to set something up like that? Finding the ward schemes in the Ministry’s records must’ve taken quite a long time, and then planting the explosives without anyone noticing or reporting anything odd happening…
Harry didn’t believe it. Rhys was backed into a corner. He was bluffing.
But he couldn’t be certain. Not unless he tried something different. He supposed that Daphne was giving him a pardon anyway.
Silently, he cast Legilimency on Rhys. There was barely a wand motion and no detectable sign of light, so no one but Harry and Rhys realised that anything had happened.
Harry’s mental probe felt like it’d been flung into a steel wall. Rhys recoiled, and Harry tried again. This time, the wall bent inward.
“Nott,” Rhys said through gritted teeth. “Stop him.”
“Not so fast,” Gabrielle said, stepping forward alongside Harry, pointing her wand at Nott.
Harry pressed again. The protective barrier around Rhys’ mind shattered, and Harry tore through the man’s scrambled thoughts until he found the one he was looking for.
“There’s no more explosives,” Harry smirked. “You’re just buying time so that Nott can alert your house-elf to activate your failsafe.”
Rhys’ eyes nearly bulged out of his head as his face turned red with fury. “I—”
Even with his wand drawn, Rhys was nothing. Harry had defeated him years ago when he’d been muggle hunting. A duel between them would end swiftly, but that wasn’t what Harry wanted. He owed it to everyone to see this man who would take the Ministry down end up in a casket before the day was done.
“You’re a failure, Rhys,” Harry proclaimed loudly. “Your plot has failed, and everything you’ve dreamt of is coming to an end now. Surrender and we’ll make this easy on you.”
Rhys’ entire body was trembling now, and Nott knew it was a losing battle when he saw it. The man took a few careful steps away, not that Rhys seemed to notice. All of his anger and frustrations were focused on Harry.
“You think you’re special, Potter?” Rhys spat the name like a curse. “You’re nothing more than an upjumped half-blood who's gone beyond his limits through sheer dumb luck! I’ll kill you and—”
Before Rhys could even react, Harry fired off a Disarming Charm. His aim was just slightly off so that when Rhys recoiled backwards in surprise, the spell just barely passed harmlessly by. Harry had predicted the man’s reaction perfectly, and as soon as he saw the telltale green glow form at the tip of Rhys’ wand, he reacted faster than the man could see.
With a simple Cutting Curse, a thin red beam shot out. It severed Rhys’ hand right at the top of his wrist. With the power Harry put into his magic, it didn’t simply fizzle out there. The red line continued to travel, nicking Rhys’ throat at the perfect angle to send out a spray of blood.
Rhys dropped his wand and clutched at his bleeding neck, but his finger movements were awkward. His index finger slipped into the narrow gash that cut nearly down to the bone. His fingers kept slipping as he desperately tried to pinch his artery closed. Had he been quick enough, he could’ve saved himself with magic.
It was over with. His cowardly, pathetic actions had ended before they had even begun. And now as he dropped to the floor, his already pale skin beginning to turn lifeless, he looked as pathetic as Harry ever remembered him being.
By the end of the hour, everyone at the celebration except for those who’d fled were manacled and being brought back to the Ministry. Harry and Gabrielle oversaw Rhys’ corpse’s transport to St Mungo’s, and only then did they return back to the Ministry.
The moment they arrived via floo, fireworks erupted high above in the arched ceiling of the Entry Hall. Thousands of witches and wizards were lined up along either side of the hall behind erected barriers where dozens of Aurors stood watch. Quite a few of the Aurors weren’t even watching the crowds; they only had eyes for Harry, their former leader. A few had tears streaming down their faces as the crowds cheered Harry’s name.
He knew that Daphne was likely busy getting sworn in as the newest Minister for Magic. When she was done, she’d send someone to fetch him. In the meantime, there was a more important task to attend to.
He needed to apologise to Tonks.
She’d been by his side ever since the very beginning. She was the first ally he had in his campaign against Dawlish, and she’d supported him ever since. If anyone was owed an apology for his faked death, it was her.
As he departed from Gabrielle’s side, he took the lift down to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But as he stepped out onto the new floor, he saw a flurry of activity coming from the director’s offices. Aides were carrying out boxes filled with personal effects.
Harry quickly realised what must be going on and stepped into the offices. All of the normal workers' things were there, but he spotted one poor wizard carrying out a box from Amelia Bones’ office.
Harry found Amelia in her office in a state of melancholy. She had several brown boxes stacked atop her barren desk, and she was pulling down various portraits and awards from the shelves that lined her office and stuffing them into the boxes. She didn’t acknowledge Harry immediately as he stepped inside.
“The two of you won today,” Amelia frowned, avoiding Harry’s gaze. “Daphne is Minister, and as cowardly as your plot was to hide yourself from the world, it seems to have worked well.”
“I did what was necessary to stop a catastrophe,” Harry replied as he closed the door behind himself. No one else needed to overhear this conversation that he was about to have. “Orpington would’ve never been so bold had he not believed me dead. To him, I was his ultimate nemesis: the man who arrested him years ago for what he believed should be normal in his twisted view on society. I doubt that I would’ve discovered his plot had I not faked my death.”
“You have always been one to go beyond the impossible,” Amelia pointed out. “Much like Dumbledore, the rules don’t seem to apply to you. Or, rather, you eschew them entirely. Can I make a guess as to what happens next?”
“Go on.”
“Daphne will pardon your vigilante actions before the night is done,” Amelia began. “And then she’ll assign you as Advisor to the Minister for Magic, and you’ll fire me the instant you come to power.”
“Close,” Harry said.
Amelia raised an eyebrow and looked up at him. “A different position for you then? Something new? Or…”
“I wouldn’t fire you, Amelia,” Harry admitted.
To this, she looked genuinely surprised. Harry continued on.
“You’re an effective department head,” Harry said sincerely. “You’ve done a lot of good work to help our world improve after the war. It wasn’t your fault that we were stuck with ineffective policies and a government that was more concerned about reconciliation between wrongdoers and the innocent instead of attempting to enact just changes within our world. Other than believing in the worst of me, you’ve been a good leader, and Daphne knows that too. We’d both be very happy to see you continue in your role.”
Amelia eyed him like she didn’t entirely believe what he had to say. “Do not insult my intelligence any longer; be honest with me. If you’re being pardoned, you have nothing left to lose by admitting this to me now. Did you sabotage Head Auror Dawlish?”
“Yes,” Harry answered freely. It felt liberating to finally speak the truth to someone else besides his closest confidants. Amelia had seen and recognised Dawlish’s failings, but she never would’ve sabotaged him. That wouldn’t have been clean enough for her. She would tried to assert her influence with Kingsley to have him dismiss Dawlish, something that would’ve taken a far lot longer to achieve than Harry’s methods. “You knew the type of man that he was.”
Amelia’s visage darkened. “Dawlish was a poor Auror, that is true, but your actions led to a good man spiralling and being willing to tarnish his integrity.”
“Dawlish was not a good man—”
“I’m not speaking of Dawlish,” Amelia snapped. “Proudfoot was one of the finest Aurors to come out of the academy in his generation. In time, he could’ve led the entire department. Instead, his search for the truth against your lies finally led him to a dark place. You don’t even know that he and Dawlish were willing to compose horrendous lies about Daphne so that she would lose the election.”
In fact, Harry did know. He’d heard it all at Azkaban, but Amelia didn’t know that.
“But I refuse to win like that,” Amelia told Harry. “You two can keep going with your deceit and trickery. I would never stain myself with such tactics.”
“And in refusing to do so, you’ve failed to change the Ministry for the better,” Harry pointed out.
“If that’s the sacrifice I have to make, then so be it,” Amelia said. “I believed in running a campaign based upon honour and integrity. It was a foolish choice from the start, but one that I believed in.”
“I want the same thing,” Harry told her. “Once Daphne becomes the new Minister, we’ll see about changing Britain for the better.”
“And will you continue with your underhanded tactics?” Amelia asked. “Will you tarnish the names of your opponents or any whom you feel is doing a poor job?”
“We will do what we must to ensure that Britain becomes a better place,” Harry told her. “Good intentions mean little if the result is nothing but the same shite we’ve been fed for years now. Change is needed above all else if we want the next generation to live more fruitful lives than we have.”
“And what if your example sets a line that others will follow? What if they learn what you’ve done and they believe that they must do the same to enact what they believe to be right?”
“Then we can only hope that they believe in the right things for Britain,” Harry answered honestly. “Do you truly believe for a single second that our current system of governance rewards the most just or righteous among us? You’ve lived through several Ministers for Magic. How many of them were honest, good people?
“Several—” Amelia began to argue.
“And how many managed to substantively improve Britain?” Harry asked.
“Minister Spencer-Moon did,” Amelia claimed. “And so did Nobby Leach and Millicent Bagnold.”
“Spencer-Moon did little besides maintain a reassuring connection with the muggle Prime Minister and allow Dumbledore to handle his problems for him,” Harry countered. “Nobby Leach had good ideals but was hamstrung due to his birth as a muggle-born wizard. And Millicent Bagnold simply gave her Aurors unchecked power to deal with Death Eaters. She was ineffectual, and were it not for my parents’ sacrifice, the war would’ve continued and seen to her end as a Minister.
“You are an optimistic soul. It is something that I wish I still had. However, the world does not work as any of us would wish it to. The reality is that deceit is needed. Lies and trickery that improve our citizens’ lives are ultimately worth it. The ends justify the means, so long as one does not go so far as to disregard ethics entirely. Anyone who argues for rules of goodness without adapting to the harsh reality that there are inherent flaws within their government and society will ultimately fail and hurt their people more than they might have ever expected.
“I’ve seen what happens when a Minister tries a peaceful, passive approach. Criminals are allowed to walk free and retain their contraband. They are allowed to disrupt business models and exert their influence against the inclusion of muggle-borns and half-bloods within our society. Change is needed so that we do not continue to repeat such things, and if Daphne and I have to soil our hands to do so, then so be it.”
Amelia looked like she couldn’t believe who she was talking to. “If that is the path that you must take, then so be it. My resignation is in the top drawer of my desk. I will not continue to be a part of a government that operates like this. Goodbye, Harry.”
She brushed past him as she headed out the door, leaving behind several boxes that her former staff members were quick to enter and grab. Harry watched as they collected the last of Amelia’s things and took them out to be sent back to her home.
Even after their conversation, Harry felt strongly that Amelia was deluded. She believed that positive change was inevitable, but she failed to recognise the suffering that would take place before it happened. It could take a decade or more before a new Minister for Magic was established, and there was no telling as to how much support they would have to pass the policies that they wanted.
But that still didn’t resolve the ache in his heart. Even though he knew that he wasn’t truly in love with Susan, Amelia’s niece, the way he was with Daphne, his heart was still pained by the fact that her last-living relative seemed to despise him. He wanted to honour her memory and ensure that no one else would ever be able to come up with a plan of attack like Bellatrix did.
Ultimately, Harry had to shake the feeling off. He knew that he and Daphne would do better than those that came before them.
And now, he had to rectify the problems that came from lying about his death to all of his loved ones.