Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!
Harry found the experience of dealing with people odd at the best of times. They were normally easy to read. He had gotten good at that from having to deal with the Dursley's and know their moods for his own safety. However, the magical people were a weird bunch of people under normal circumstances, but with all that had gone on they were stranger.
He had gotten to the Leaky Cauldron pub and inn in quick time and entered. Nobody paid him much attention at first; except for Tom the landlord of the pub when Harry had asked for a room to rent for the rest of the Christmas holiday.
He had at first been happy to help. However, Harry's hair wasn't hiding his forehead, so suddenly Harry wasn't good enough because the scar was gone. He would have to try and make a fake take its place because that could become a problem. Hence, Tom wouldn't believe that he was Harry Potter.
The bar tender had thrown him out into Diagon Alley after Harry had gotten angry and told the old man what he really thought of his cesspool pub and threatened him. He had to wonder what was up with people. How could they consider a stupid scar his identity? Tom was a complete idiot; the same was true with the bus conductor, but other people?
Harry felt self-conscious as he walked through the alley, wishing he could change into a girl because he looked stupid as a boy wearing those clothes. It was even odder that people gave him looks but didn't seem to realise he really was Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, and wearing girls' clothes.
It was like without his scar and glasses he was just another ordinary boy. He had thought that his newfound ability would do that for him, but whatever. If the magical people wanted to be that ignorant then who was he to complain?
He shrugged it all off wondering what was going to happen when people believed he died in the explosion at Privet Drive. He had thought about staying dead, but then he realised it was better to keep your enemies in sight, and if they kept shooing you away, like a 'stranger' then he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes and ears on Dumbledore or Voldemort in a way that worked.
Harry felt that he needed to make it clear to both that he didn't want anything to do with them, but he was certain that Dumbledore would continue trying his luck. That would give him power over the old man at least. Voldemort however, was going to try killing him no matter what.
Thinking on it, it would be interesting to see whether Dumbledore and the ministry tried to blame him for Vernon's death. Death Eaters were always getting away with murder, so why shouldn't the hero? Anyway, it was more self-defence than murder. If you beat someone hard enough, and back them into a corner, don't complain when you've been ripped apart by an infant dragon.
He would have to speak about that with the goblins, just in case. He was sure the goblins could be trusted if he found the right one. He had to have more than just a trust, and money to mage equals power. The trust money had to come from somewhere as far as he could tell, so he must have more money somewhere.
Walking into Gringotts he thought about walking up to a bank teller, but shrugged that off as he walked up to some doors marked offices. He couldn't be-bothered to wait that out. He walked through with only some cautious looks from goblins. The humans in the bank didn't even give him a look.
He walked through the neat marble hall with wooden doors either side, and felt amazed by how nice the place was. It was interesting that the goblins would make their place nicer than the wizards.
He didn't meet with any goblin through the hall, as he read the plaques along the doors looking for the one he wanted before coming right to the end. They were large double doors at the end of a T junction, which went off in both directions.
The plaque on the door read 'Director Renoks' in English with some goblin script below that, which he figured read the goblins name in his home tongue. He knocked on the door before carefully pushing it open. It wasn't locked so what would he care. If you don't want to be interrupted, lock your door, simple cleverness.
It was a large office, which only had a large wooden desk at the other end, and on the desk were a few still pictures Harry took to be the directors' family. He had never seen a female goblin before, and had wondered what was up with that. However, that was until he saw what was likely his wife and daughter in his pictures were naked.
He realised that their culture must be quite a bit different to humans. His sons were fully clothed. He quickly shook off the disturbing imagery as goblins aren't attractive to most humans, him included, and it crept him out. That was why female goblins didn't work the bank, because humans would not like the cultural differences that much.
The office was empty, and had two doors to the sides. Harry didn't even hesitate as he had already walked in, closing the door behind him. If the Director was anything like Dumbledore he knew he had a 'visitor' in his office.
The desk had two leather chairs in front of it, and a high-backed chair the other side. It contained some papers, other than the pictures with faced the other way. He wished he never had a peek after that.
Harry shuffled through the papers, curious, only after he noticed Dumbledore's name on something under the vault title, Order of the Phoenix. However, that wasn't all. He saw something odd next to Dumbledore's name and signature. It was why he really cared to look. It was his right as it was his name, and signature, for transfer of half a million galleons to the Order of the Phoenix vault.
He looked over the papers. They showed some other transactions that had his signature to them. Well, that wasn't actually his signature. It was his name scrawled messily on the papers, how he would jot it down on homework because normal ink dunking quills were messy and hard to write neatly with.
Harry had a proper signature that he would use if he needed too, but other than practicing it for when he needed one, he had yet to officially use it. He was still young, and hadn't had any reason to sign anything official before.
Looking to the green stamp on the paper; it said 'Approved'. Harry looked at the two magical stamps. There was a red 'Unapproved' stamp next to the green.
He turned as he heard one of the side doors open. The goblin was wearing regal attire with round glasses. He didn't look surprised or concerned that Harry was looking at the papers as he walked around his desk and sat. After all, they 'had' Harry's signature on them.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting, Mr. Potter," he said with a bow. "I am Director Renoks. I did not expect you. Can I have my assistant bring you a drink?"
"What are these?" Harry asked instead as he couldn't be-bothered with pleasantries and would rather get down to business, as he placed the papers down in front of the goblin. The goblin looked at Harry in curiosity. "I didn't sign these, and here..." he trailed off as he shuffled papers. "Surely you should have questioned this. It was dated after my father's death."
"It was signed and dated by him before his death," the goblin replied, but he looked concerned. "It was processed after his death, which was when the bank authorised it. I had recently pulled these as the goblin who dealt with your account has recently retired. He is quite old and it was about time too. I have taken over the account since then, so you shall have to deal with me from now on."
"By then this sum wasn't my fathers to give away!" he answered thoughtfully as he made mental notes. "And these are not my signatures at all, which should bring that into question! I did not authorise Dumbledore having anything from me, and if he asked I would have told him where he could get off!"
"I see," he replied, surprised as he pulled out a form from his draw. "This is a declaration to prove that this was not signed by you and that you wish to investigate fraud made against your accounts. This is a lot more serious than signing in an ordinary way. This you will have to sign with blood. As soon as you have signed I will know whether or not you marked these papers," he said pulling out an acid green quill.
"A blood quill," he replied, taking it without hesitation. "I'm familiar!" he added as he signed his name in a manner of waves and curves. It was bold and strong flowing. His hand split open with his marks and the 'ink' was red with blood. His hand healed as he passed both quill and parchment to the goblin, and he looked at the real signature. He looked sick as the blood was slowly highlighted in light green.
"Oh," the goblin muttered with wide eyes. "The... green isn't good for us," he said as he looked at the signature. It was proper. "Dumbledore had been claiming that you weren't a good writer, and that you had no real signature. We assure you we have sent out statements, but it seems you never received them to make a complaint sooner," he said pulling out some papers. "These were made eight years ago," he said handing Harry some more papers.
"I didn't know about the magical world until I was eleven," he said. "I'm now fifteen. You do the math. Also, why the hell would you accept a declaration or counter signature from a seven year old?"
"It was Albus Dumbledore," he replied, frowning. "I didn't authorise these as I already noted. Dumbledore is quite the master of getting what he wants. I wouldn't have allowed this. You were much too young to have any idea what you were doing."
"Then how do I get my money back?" he demanded while he was suppressing his anger. His eyes melded into yellow slants for a moment and the goblin quickly shuffled the papers, straightening up.
"Umm... procedure is already underway with signing of this declaration!" he quickly said. "These transactions have now been cancelled. It will be only a matter of time until Dumbledore finds out and he will know it was you."
"Good!" he replied, smirking. "I have a few things I need. First some clothes. I want a suit, all black with tie and shoes. Its time I started looking the part of... wealth. Then I want muggle and wizard money."
"Yes sir," he agreed quickly.
It was surprising how quickly the goblins got things done when they found out fraud had taken place against a wealthy client. He straightened his collar and tie as he left the bank. He looked neat and tidy, and completely different from the mage around wearing robes.
His hair had been neatened, and combed into backwards waves of spikes, keeping his scar-less forehead on show.
He had gotten a special wallet that held muggle money and galleons for his convenience. It also turned into a bank card so that he could use it in shops.
He was walking out towards the pub to use the floo, and show the jerk landlord who was really Lord of the Land when he came to a stop as he had been so busy he hadn't watched what he was doing and knocked over a girl.
She glared up at him while he helped her to her feet. He hadn't expected her to allow him to help her up. However, she accepted his hands, and he pulled her up to her feet. He brushed her down a little, but stopped as she gave him a look of annoyance.
The girl had long blonde hair to the small of her back, pulled back into a tight plat while the hair on top was pulled back in neat disarray curving back along her head, held lose. She had deep blue eyes that watched him suspiciously.
She was slender, and wearing dark blue winter robes left open over a pair of tight cream hipsters with black shoes and a tight white top over her large chest. She was wearing stylish silver framed glasses perched on her small nose, and some pink coloured gloss on her lips.
"Watch where you're walking, Potter!" she said exasperated with him and rolling her eyes as she finished brushing down some dust from her robes. "You could have hurt me for crying out loud!"
"Hey, you walked into me too!" he replied as he looked her over and realised she still had one of his hands. She looked down and quickly let go while her cheeks darkened. "Umm... do I know you?" he suddenly asked sheepishly as she looked familiar.
Her cheeks darkened, puffing out with indignation. "My name is Daphne Greengrass!" she said through her teeth. "I'm in Slytherin house!" she said but he didn't show one sign that that jogged his memory. "I'm in your freaking year!" she said but nothing. "Tracey Davis is my best friend, and we hang around with that annoying Malfoy worshiper Pansy Parkinson!"
"Oh, right!" he said as he suddenly realised he had noticed her, and why the beautiful girl looked so familiar. "You and that short haired girl just hang back while Pansy boasters Malfoy's ego while he is being a dick!"
She sighed while nodding her head. "Yep!" she agreed with a small grin. "Never could be-bothered to join in all of that rubbish. Malfoy is nothing but a pathetic poser. Never does do anything worthwhile but piss people off!"
"Daphne! What the hell are you doing over here talking with Potter!? If Malfoy or one of his flunkies saw you, you would never hear an end to it!"
Harry and Daphne turned to see a slightly younger girl with her short cropped brown hair in two bunched ponytails on each side of her head, and blue eyes that matched Daphne's. She was wearing a light green robe over herself with black combat style trousers with a black top and pink trainers'.
"Astoria?" Harry asked, surprised as he looked to the slender, perky girl. Her chest area was much smaller than her sisters, but she was just as pretty, and other than that and hair colour and style they looked quite alike.
"You know my younger sister, but can't remember my name!?" Daphne demanded, annoyed with him, pout glaring.
He offered an impish grin. "Umm... well... err... during the Yule Ball last Christmas she went with that loser Nott, and he tried kissing her and she was panicking because she didn't want to kiss him, and I took pity and saved her!"
"Jerk kissed me instead!" she said pout glaring at him. "I was just lucky Nott was so embarrassed and ashamed that I supposedly preferred Potter... a freaking Gryffindor over a 'proper' pureblood that he never said anything!"
"You never told me you kissed him!" Daphne said suspiciously. "You sure you didn't enjoy it that much you didn't want to say anything. I wouldn't have been a bitch about it. What girl wouldn't think about kissing Harry Freaking Potter? He's cute!" she said, ignoring him while he blushed.
"I think he just freaked out when Nott was mocking him, and went in," Astoria said shaking her head. "It was... I suppose a nice first kiss. He was gentle and sweet, but we hadn't spoken about it or anything since. That annoying Weasley jerk was always around. Slytherin's can't have a civilised conversation with Gryffindor's when that loser is around! He starts trouble if you just say hi.
"This one time Ginevra Weasley and I were in the library together," she said, smiling at the thought. "We were talking and stuff, about boys and..." She gave Harry an amused look before turning back to her sister while he blushed. "Well, whatever, and then he came in, in a mood. It was before the first task last year and he was being a bitch and stuff, and got us thrown out of the library because he didn't want his sister speaking with an evil Slytherin!"
"Weasley is almost as bad as Malfoy... but then we have to put up with Malfoy a lot more so we could be biased!" Daphne said with a thoughtful smile.
"I can attest being around Ron isn't much of a picnic either!" Harry piped in as he was feeling left out of the sisters complaining, and tried not to let his ego inflate as she admitted that she and Ginny were talking about him like 'that' together.
They both looked to him with raised eyebrows of questioning doubt. "His father was attacked by Voldemort's-," They flinched at the name but he went on. "Snake, and put in hospital, and Ron blamed me, convincing the twins, and they attacked me in my own house!
"So then the 'great'. I use that word mockingly. Albus Dumbledore throws me out to stay with my racist aunt and uncle," he finished while they went wide eyed. "I went without complaint, but you know what? I don't give a crap anymore. So I left, and had some words with my new account manager."
"Find anything interesting?" Daphne asked, interested in the outcome.
He grinned as he leaned closer and both girls moved in, so close they could feel each other's breathe on their faces. "Dumbledore is a thieving fraudster!" he said with a wicked grin. "And I don't care who knows it, but I'm no longer on his side!"
"Then whose side are you on?" Astoria asked as she leaned in close enough that her lips were almost on his.
"Neither!" he spoke whimsically. "White and Black can meet Red or whatever other fucking colours there are! I don't care!" he said with a shrug. "They're all idiots! I'm sick of it all, so maybe if I step away from the light and dark, others will be smart enough to realise they're all douche bags! They're all bullies, and fools fighting over their own beliefs while trying to force those beliefs down other people's throats!"
"Wow!" Daphne said as they all pulled away from each other. Her eyes had widened as her mind ran through what he said. "That sounds better than being a groomed kitty, or a controlled puppy!" she said while Harry and Astoria laughed at her analogy. "Whatever," she said while rolling her eyes.
"Anyway, where are you going Potter?!" she asked while looking slightly up at him as he was taller than both her and her younger sister.
"I was heading back home!" he answered thoughtfully. "I have nothing better to do, why?"
"Aren't you going to the press conference?" Astoria asked him while he looked at her blankly. "I guess someone was keeping you away. The paper said you're going to be there at the ministry with Dumbledore. I guess Dumbledore's going to lie about why you couldn't make it! Mum's a freelance Reporter for the Daily Prophet, and we're supposed to meet her at the Ministry later."
"When is this?" Harry asked as he let his mind run a mile a second of ideas.
"Now...!" Daphne said as she looked at her watch. "If we hurry we shouldn't have missed much!"
"What ever happened to being seen with me?"
"Oh. That!" Astoria said shaking her head, making a non-caring gesture. "That doesn't matter now. This will be too good to miss!"
"Come on!" Daphne said, grabbing his left arm and dragging him towards the Leaky Cauldron with Astoria grabbing his other arm to help move him faster.
They got some odd looks as they charged through the alley knocking people out of the way and into the pub in quick time.
"No! I remember you boy! Out! You're not welcome!" Tom the landlord startled the girls as they looked to him as he charged over looking like a pile of filth.
"You do know that this is Harry Potter, right?" Astoria asked, befuddled.
"No he isn't!" he retorted smugly. "Potter has a lightning shaped scar on his forehead."
"And he had it removed or something you simpleton!" Daphne said with a glare.
"Right, you and our lying sluts, out...!" Tom spat out.
Harry raised a parchment copy of a deed in front of his face and smiled at him. "Seems your lease is up by March, and I was thinking this place might make a better empty lot!" he said with an amusing grin while the man took the papers shaking while the girls looked at Harry in awe.
"Well, hopefully Tom, you might be nicer to customers next time!" he said. "And ever talk like that to me or my friends again you ungrateful piece of shit and I'll cut off your tiny, filth covered prick!" he said before leading the girls to the floo.
"That was awesome!" Astoria giggled while the man was still shaking, looking at the parchment.
Harry closed his eyes and felt a slight sting in his forehead. "How's that... does that look right?" he asked while both girls nodded in shock.
"Now that is a neat trick," Daphne said. "But let's leave quickly before you miss too much!"
Harry nodded as he collected some floo powder for them, and in a flash of emerald flames they were exiting through a huge fireplace into the auditorium of the ministry building in London.
There was a large crowd surrounding a stage with two podiums in the centre. Harry had expected more than the mess he saw, but then realised he always did set his sights too high when it came to the magical world.
Dumbledore was up on stage at one podium while the crowd settled down. He was next to the Minister Fudge at his own podium. The old man had just started speaking, which meant that they weren't late.
"Unfortunately!" the old man began with a magically magnified voice thanks to the charmed microphones. "Minister Fudge, Mr. Potter couldn't make it here today, but he had thought to send a statement for me to read for him!" he said with a twinkle eye smile.
"Actually...!" Harry interrupted at the top of his lungs while the girls quickly parted from him so they couldn't get in the way and find a good place to watch. The crowed turned to stare at him in shock, and he enjoyed the look of worry that graced Dumbledore's face. "I'm sorry I'm late," he said as the crowd parted to let him through to the stage.
"I'm afraid that I wasn't made aware of this press meeting, no matter what Dumbledore says," he continued as he was helped up the steps to the stage by a familiar and concerned looking purple haired young woman. "I had just arranged a trip to Gringotts bank to see to some matters," he said, gulping as he turned to the crowd. "Turns out that I'm missing quite a lot of mail..."
He turned to look at Dumbledore while he had gone ashen white before turning back to the minster and smiling as he turned to the crowd while they were on the edge of imaginary seats.
"I have read a lot of things written about me in the Daily Prophet News Paper," he said as he shooed Dumbledore from the podium so the microphone would let everyone hear him. "Most of which I would call slanderous!" he commented whimsically. "Now I'm here to speak for myself. No Dumbledore and his mistruths. No more of the snivelling coward, Fudge and his lies!"
He found their reactions humorous but neither dared try to stop him or that would be front page news. "I don't care whether you believe in the return of Voldemort or not!" he said and shook his head at the collective gasps of horror. "For fucks sake... you're all a bunch of grownups and you're shitting yourselves over a pathetic made up name, by a half-blood magician who was once nothing but a manipulative Slytherin bully called Tom Riddle!"
It was admiral that they all just stared, dumbfounded, and looking at Dumbledore from the corner of his eye was a surprise. Dumbledore looked at Harry with a flash of anger. He wondered why Dumbledore had never before told anyone who Voldemort was, but internally shrugged and made a mental note to find out why at a later date.
Standing up straight, and sorting his tie to gather his thoughts and nerves; he continued after a deep breath. "Believe what you want to believe, I don't care about a stupid bunch of cowards who spread nasty rumours about people without a spot of proof based off crap written last year by a stupid fool, and disgrace to journalism like Rita Skeeter!"
He grabbed the microphone and pulled it out of the podium. It was cordless, and came out easily as he walked around the podium. "Do you know your minister? The man you're so blindly following killed a criminal. Barty Crouch Jr. Without a second thought to get any truth, or any kind of trial for the crimes committed since his escape from Azkaban!
"Then he ignored every bit of evidence, such as the Dark Mark reappearing!" he spoke as he walked back and forth in front of them. "Didn't care to speak to me...! Didn't care about any such thing! What harm would there be in listening... preparing... because if you're wrong you might as well bend over and take the Death Eaters tiny little cocks up your asses like they take their masters!"
He held back his smirk as some angry faces caught his eyes. He could see some Death Eaters watching, gritting their teeth in anger. He liked that reaction. It made his speech all the more impactful. It showed he had power to upset them, and power to upset them was power to make them strike out against their masters' orders in their anger, but he would have to wait for that.
"I saw them fleeing back into his favour. Falling to their knees like the pathetic little servants they are, kissing his feet! But yet, you don't care! Especially those of you with your little murdering boners, ready to bow down and kiss his ass!"
He could almost laugh as he saw twitching hands. He saw Malfoy Sr. Watching. He was keeping his calm but his grey eyes betrayed his calm with hate and anger.
"Those of you not pure of blood...!" Harry continued. "Do you trust them to protect you?! Most of the ministry will fold the moment of invasion because they're cowards. Your friends will turn on you in an instant to save themselves! You each carry a weapon in your pocket and you wouldn't even draw it!"
"Potter!" the minister interrupted with a fake frown. "Are you trying to insight civil war!" he asked as if he thought he was being clever.
"Of course not, minister!" he replied as he thought, shaking his head while everyone watched him, and reporters from all over were scribbling everything down and taking pictures. "Civil war is too much hassle in my opinion. However, I wonder what you would have to fear. Is your career so much more important than the lives of your people, or even the lives of the muggles?"
The minister squirmed as he tried to look indignant. "O-of course not!" he quickly said but his voice wavered. Harry had never thought he would make much of a speaker, but going with the flow, and saying what needed to be said was easier than he thought, especially when people were so willing to listen. "I was just saying that... this is ridiculous. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not returned, so don't listen to this foolish boy-!"
"Really now, Minister!?" he asked with a small smile of pity. "This really isn't about whether he has returned or not. That I'm sure should be for your aurors to investigate. They are investigating these claims aren't they? After all, such claims would be top priority given the evidence to date, wouldn't they?" he asked as he looked around to see a greying red haired woman.
"Amelia Bones, Head of the Law Enforcement Department!" he said remembering her from his hearing that summer. "Can I ask, are the aurors, or any of your department investigating, or maybe the investigation has come to a conclusion? Do you have a detective team to hand who can swear under oaf that they had taken on the case and to the best of their knowledge and ability not found anything?"
"No investigation has been made, not even an inquiry!" she called out to some hushed whispering. "There are no detectives or investigators working on any case of whether 'he' has returned."
"While I'm asking ma'am," he said, smiling at her in gratitude. "I was attacked during the summer by Dementors. Has your department investigated past my mockery of a hearing, in which for underage magic, that I used in front of a muggle already in the know, as if I was a criminal mastermind or super villain?"
"No Mr. Potter!" she replied, which caused more hushed whispering while the minister started sweating.
"I see..." he replied with a nod. "It is your job, to make sure things like this are investigated, correct?" he asked her.
"Then... I'm sorry but... should we fear for our safety?" he asked, putting on a concerned expression. "After all, if the Law Enforcement Department isn't investigating such threats to our safety as renegade dementors. Why may I ask did you feel that our safety was not a concern with the possibility that dementors were off on their own, or worse... that someone in the ministry was trying to use them for getting rid of someone who potentially stood in the way of their political power?"
"I was ordered by the minister's office!" she replied straight to the point. "I was threatened with my career. It is better to take that and wait until an opportunity arises in which I can show my evidence without repercussions which could cause more damage."
Gasps rent the chamber while Fudge looked sick.
"I see..." he answered, turning back to the crowd. "That is what the minister does," he said shaking his head. "I can't see that as very productive of any leader, no matter the circumstances."
"N-nonsense P-Potter!" he stuttered out, shivering. "I-I was doing what I had to..." he turned to the people. "I-if I started investigations, p-people w-would panic, and I might lose my-."
"Yeah mate - no dice!" Harry interrupted, shaking his head. "The people can see you now as nothing but a snivelling little prick!" he hissed out with a look of disgust. "I can't see you keeping office now the good people of the UK have had their eyes opened!"
"Harry! That is enough!" Dumbledore finally got in on the act as he took Fudge's place, as if he didn't think Harry was going after him next. He was and he allowed Dumbledore's interruption to allow him a moment to gather his thoughts.
Harry looked out on the crowd and they looked as if they were disappointed. That he was going to obey Dumbledore. However, two cute girls were watching from the side with identical grins. He realised that if he could keep on going, Fudge would be out of office soon, and he could bring Dumbledore down a few pegs. People loved the old man too much to take him out of the picture that easily, but it would be a start.
He had people listening to him now. He had the ears of the magical UK. He just needed to sow the seeds of doubt. He needed to put questions in people's heads. That way he could start the ball rolling to Dumbledore's downfall. The ball that Fudge so easily handed over before he could truly begin thinking of rolling it.
"Oh, right," Harry finally said, looking to Dumbledore as he pulled out some papers from his pocket and opened them for all to see. "Dumbledore has been stealing from me since before I even knew about the magical world, where he dumped me with my racist aunt and uncle. Where he has forced me to go every summer since then, and even this Christmas," he said before something came to his mind as he handed a brunette blue eyed woman in the front row the tonne of paper copies to pass around.
"Also while I'm here I am using... hang on, my bank manager told me this, but I wrote it down so I get it right," he said before he pulled out some more papers and clearing his throat. "By lore of magic from the Ancient and Mystical House of Potter... I Harry James Potter head of said house, do hereby invoke my right by magic to take into my house the headship of the Ancient and Noble House of Black as the heir of Black from my Godfather Sirius Black, and from this I do demand of the wizengamot that they respect my house, and all Ancient Houses with fair trial for Sirius Black!"
Those words made the hall freeze. The quiet was deathening, and Dumbledore was just standing still. He looked sicker than the minister. It was thrilling to get Dumbledore, but more so to do it in front of people.
The old man was the one to break the shocked quiet. "Nonsense now Harry!" he quickly said while everyone was coming to terms that Harry Potter was claiming that Sirius Black was innocent of his crimes and wanted to prove it. "You will return to your relatives," he said, not mentioning Sirius or the theft. "You are safe and loved there with family. It is your home, and your relative would never want to lose you!"
"Oh for the love of Morgana!" he said with a small smirk while everyone looked at him funny. "I've seen pictures, and she was smoking, while Merlin was not!" he said before turning back to Dumbledore. "I hate my aunt and uncle, and they hate me! They would be those muggles screaming 'burn the witches' the loudest! If they ever have a witch or wizard born to their family I am going to take the child myself because no kid deserves to grow up the way I did!
"I don't give a shit what you want anymore old man!" he spat out in disgust. "I owe you nothing but my contempt! And you can take your fucking hippy little gang of pussy shit morons out of my house or I'll throw them out, and I won't be fucking nice about it!"
He threw the microphone towards the pale old man and he caught it absentmindedly while Harry walked over to Amelia and giving Daphne and Astoria a short nod, relaying that he would see them later. They nodded in return, and he was surprised to see them make their way to the brunette woman he had handed the proof of Dumbledore's fraud too.
"Miss. Bones!" he said with a smirk. "It looks like we have a lot to discuss, and this time the minister's office can fuck off! First," he said while he knew other reporters were listening in. "I believe charges need to be brought upon our latest defence teacher for assault on children by use of blood quill as 'punishment' for disloyalty to Minister Fudge's Nazi Party!"
She immediately turned to some of her men. "Hogwarts now, and bring me Delores Umbridge!" she commanded before turning to Harry, calming down. "Okay, if you would follow me to my office, Mr. Potter!" she said, leading the way with Harry following her.
to be continued...