Department of Magical Law Enforcement: Sev & Ritters
Department of Mysteries: Susan & Tonks
Wizengamot Division: Sirius & Theo
Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department: Bill & Ron
Beast Division: Neville & Charlie
Department of Transportation: Fleur & Luna
Improper Use of Magic Department: Cissa & Draco
Department of International Cooperation: Sky & Johnny.
Department of Magical Games and Sports: Blaise & Lupin.
Department of Magical Accidents and Obliviations: Fred & George
Ministers Offices: Harry
*****
August 9th
Harry looked at his watch from Sev, waiting for the second hand to hit the twelve, before he nodded to the first group. "Sev, Blue, you're up."
"No impulsive stunts, brat," Sev told him seriously as he accepted his coin from Hermione. "I will see you in a few hours."
"Me? Impulsive?" Harry blinked before smirking, "You've got the wrong bloke, Sev. Be safe, see you in a bit."
Sev nodded and he and Blue apparated away without anymore fanfare.
"Ten minutes until you're up," Harry told Susan and Tonks. "Be ready."
*****
Severus pulled Ritters to the side the instant they appeared outside the Ministry employee entrance. He had him against the wall with his wand to his neck before Ritters could so much as blink.
"Why did you join Harry's group?" Severus asked him in a harsh whisper.
Ritters jabbed his wand in Severus' abdomen. "Why did you?" he grunted.
"I care for the boy," Severus said truthfully, digging his wand a little harder for Ritters' evasive response. "Your turn."
"I care for him as well," Ritters spat, his eyes flashing and his wand digging just as hard in Severus' side as Severus' was in his neck.
"Do you?" Severus asked in a silky whisper. "Harry inspires a variety of followers, you'll have to explain your attachment to my seventeen year old ward."Ritters' wand receded slightly and his face twisted in disgust. "Don't be daft, it's not romantic what I feel for the boy. It's- it's James, his father? We trained together. I figure, James was a good man, his son can't be too far from his path, might as well join the kid's side."
Severus refrained from smirking just barely. "And now?" he asked, his wand remaining steady and his eyes burning into Ritters', searching for any hint of deceit. "Now that you see that Harry has created a path entirely away from James Potter's?"
Ritters dropped his wand from Severus' side and his lips twitched into a weak smile. "There are worse sides to be on," he said. "I'm loyal, Snape, if that's what the point of this little assault was."
Severus waited a beat before he was satisfied by what he saw. "It was," he said, stepping away and holstering his wand in a single swift movement. "I will not apologize, I have a duty to protect the boy."
Ritters gave him a sideways smirk as they resumed their entry into the Ministry of Magic. "If you didn't have that nasty little tattoo, you'd make a decent auror after this is all over. You kept Harry Potter alive for years now, skill like that could take you far in the field."
Severus scoffed, "You have no idea the effort it has taken to get the child this far. When this is all over, I will be retiring permanently."
*****
"What's on our agenda again?" Tonks asked Susan.
Susan rolled her eyes, "The Department of Mysteries, Tonks, seriously? How did you pass the auror exams?"
Tonks shook her head, sending long blonde waves down her back as her face shimmered into a softer and more sensual look with full lips and wide blue eyes. "With my incredible good looks, of course," she said, fluttering thick black eyelashes at Susan.
Susan had an odd moment where she found herself momentarily attracted to Tonks.
She shook it off though and narrowed her eyes as she gestured to the Ministry entrance, "Quit fucking around, we've got a job to do."
"I either go in disguise or not at all," Tonks winked. "I'm banned from the premises, remember?"
"Well, make yourself uglier, you're quite distracting," Susan complained as they entered the building together.
"It's easier to get things I want if I look like this," Tonks whispered. "Trust me."
Susan glanced over at Tonks and closed her eyes for a moment as she realized another change Tonks made.
"Did you increase your breast size?" she hissed before they got on a lift to go down to the Department of Mysteries.
*****
"What are you so worried about?" Sirius asked Theo curiously as the two of them breezed through the atrium and made their way to the stairs to descend to Wizengamot chambers. "We've got the easiest task and you've got the best protector."
"You must be bloody joking," Theo hissed over at him with a sideways scowl. "Have you considered the mad situation we're in? The…" he glanced around nervously, "the current situation?"
"I forget this is your guys' first war," Sirius said glibly. "Either we die today or we don't. And that's that."
"That is not that! My girlfriend is pregnant, you mad bastard!"
Sirius looked over at Theo and felt a pang of empathy for him. He remembered all too clearly how much of James' excitement to become a father had been weighed down with the war before the prophecy had ever even been spoken.
Sirius put a gentle hand on Theo's shoulder, always cognizant of the kind of childhood he had and gave him a solemn look. "My best mates were scared when they got pregnant during the last war, and they gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby," he said quietly. "Your daughter is going to come into a world that we're making safer."
Theo's tight shoulders relaxed and he let out a quiet puff of a sound. "Yeah… wait!" He lifted his head and stared at Sirius as if he suddenly sprouted an extra head, "Your best mates? Do you mean James and Lily? Who died? Who gave birth to Harry?!"
Sirius grimaced and guided Theo by the shoulder toward the chambers they needed. "Let's save the inspirational speeches for Moony," he suggested. "Focus on our task, eh?"
"I never would have chosen you as godfather for my child," Theo hissed.
Sirius loved his godson more than any other singular person to ever exist in his world, but he didn't think Harry made a much more responsible godfather than he did honestly.
*****
Bill whistled cheerfully as he led Ron toward their dad's old department. Every step he took, Bill was assaulted with memories of visiting the Ministry with his dad as a young boy. He loved going to work with his dad, loved seeing him so passionate about his work and thrilled to share it with Bill. It was one of the reasons Bill felt so guilty when he signed up for Curse Breaking right after school, but his dad had been proud of him he'd said.
'Every man has to find his own path.'
Now Bill walked that path again, set on sniffing the department out, checking for clues, feeling a bit like a spy.
It was fun, even if it wasn't meant to be.
"I hate it here," Ron whispered bleakly. His face was pale and he was twisting his jumper in his hands as they walked through the halls, Bill nodding at everyone he saw.
Nobody stopped you if you looked confident.
"You should have traded with Neville," Bill said. He clasped his brother's shoulder, constantly trying to fill shoes that were too big for him. "I'm glad you didn't though."
Ron gulped loudly when they stopped outside the department. Then Bill got to witness a beautiful transformation as Ron inhaled and exhaled very slowly, straightened his spine, lifted his chin, and adopted a haughty mask of 'I don't give a damn'.
"Let's just get this over with," he drawled.
Bill laughed loudly, amused to see his little Ronnie change characters so quickly. "You spend too much time with Draco," he said fondly. "Mum's still upset that you two broke up."
Ron sputtered, his act broken immediately, as Bill threw open the office door.
"We were never together!"
Bill's laughter died in his throat as he had to take in the changes made to the office he used to color in as a child.
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered.
Bill was briefly and morbidly grateful for a moment that his dad was gone, Arthur Weasley would have been devastated to see what his old department had been changed into.
*****
The room was empty, all the office doors closed with conversations being whispered behind them, when Charlie and Neville entered the grand circular meeting room of the Beast's Division.
"This is… this is a joke," Neville whispered, his voice thick with shock as he looked the the paperwork left carelessly on the table.
Charlie had been in that meeting room loads of times. He was the unofficial ambassador for the Romanian Dragon Reservation when they were discussing something with the United Kingdom. Charlie had sat in those worn wooden chairs, Charlie had laughed and chatted and made acquaintances out of some of the witches and wizards who worked there.
Charlie had never seen the type of papers that were on display- scattered about with cups of coffee, casual as you please- before.
"I'm going to be sick," Neville whispered. He looked green as he reached out and plucked up a flyer, making a quick and silent copy of it before pocketing the copy and leaving the original.
Charlie wouldn't get sick, he had a job to do and he intended to do it, but as he made his own copies, he felt weak in the stomach and hated the world they lived in with a fierce passion.
*****
"Zis makes no sense," Fleur whispered rapidly to the sweet witch she had partnered with. The two of them had charmed their way into Hodge Wallis' office, the Head of the Department of Transportation, and immediately began rifling through his paperwork. "Zere eez nuzzing?"
"No movement at all," Luna said. Her enchanting eyes were as wide as Fleur's surely were when she looked up from the orders she had been making copies of. "All portkeys, all floos, all monitored and blocked."
Fleur bit her lip, a detestable habit she saved for only moments of great distress. "My family…" she said helplessly. "Zey will not be able to come here."
Luna smiled in an indulgent way and reached over to pat Fleur's hand. "I think the point is to keep us from leaving," she said softly. "But, yes, I suppose you won't be seeing your family for a while."
Fleur granted herself a single noise of misery as she closed her eyes and fervently prayed to Mother Magic that she had not seen her sister for the last time.
"If it helps, you should consider us to be your family," Luna said kindly. "That's what I do when I get sad about my family being dead."
"Zat eez… sad," Fleur finally said. She opened her eyes and gave a pitying look to the pretty and brilliant young witch who reminded her so strongly of her Gabrielle. "Zat eez incredibly sad, Luna."
Luna hummed and began tapping parchments with her wand. "Just because it's sad doesn't mean it's not real."
That was sad as well.
*****
Narcissa walked in the office for the Improper Use of Magic and let her eyes wander across the employees in their cubicles before she found one that would be acceptable to exploit.
She found him quickly— he was young, with greasy hair hanging in his face, his shoulders curved in from a lack of confidence.
"Come, Draco," Narcissa snapped her fingers for her son and plastered a smile on her face. "Let's do our duty and leave this disgusting building, shall we?"
Draco held himself every bit of the Black and Malfoy child he was. His sharp chin jut out and his lips curled at the edge in an amused smirk. "We shall."
Narcissa led him to the employee who appeared so disenchanted with his life and his job. She had to clear her throat to get the silly young man to look up and felt a fissure of self-satisfaction at the double take he did.
"Hello," she purred, fluttering her lashes coyly. "My son is interested in a position within your department after his graduation. I wondered if I could bother you for more information on what you do here, Mister…?"
The boy blinked at Narcissa, his pupils dilating in a flattering way. "Ryder, ma'am," he said in a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and attempted to look more professional even as his smile quivered. "What can I help you with?"
Men were so unbearably simple.
Lucius was doubtlessly lucky that Narcissa found his endlessly clever mind to be amusing more often than not, otherwise she would have simply mimicked her friend Juliana and became a widow before Draco entered Hogwarts.
*****
"What are you doing?" Sky asked her partner, a dreadlocked and lazy speaking man named Johnny. She narrowed her eyes and propped her hands on her hips as he lingered outside the Ministry and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "We do not have time for that," she said coolly. "We have a mission."
"'A mission'," Johnny chuckled, giving Sky a condescending smile she didn't care for at all. "We aren't an army, Monty."
"We bloody well are," Sky hissed. "An army led by the leader of the free people, an army led by the man waiting on us to collect information and return to base."
Johnny lit his cigarette and took a long inhale before causing Sky to cough and glare when he blew the smoke right in her face.
"You sound mad," he drawled. "It's a job, like any other job. Luckily for you, I already have a plan for completing the job without ever stepping foot in that building."
Sky lifted a brow at him, furious with getting such an unmotivated partner when she had to prove herself after questioning Harry Potter during their last meeting.
"Oh?" she asked coolly, hating this damn man more and more. "And how do you plan on doing that?"
Johnny smirked at her and silently smoked his cigarette until he nodded toward a witch slowly making her way toward them with flickering eyes and sweat dotting her forehead.
"It's about who you know and what they owe you," Johnny drawled. "Meet Mary Howard, assistant Director of the Department of International Cooperation. She's got a nasty habit and owes me quite a bit of gold, I'm willing to write off some of it in exchange for information."
Sky heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the wall beside Johnny, crossing her arms and glaring as the witch approached them.
Harry Potter was not going to be impressed by her efforts for the war at this rate. Though, perhaps if Mary Howard had plenty of information to share, Harry Potter would forgive her for obtaining it in the laziest possible way.
And the papers and the information Mary Howard provided seemed to be just the ticket to moving up in the ranks of their army.
*****
"I DO NOT CARE WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE! I WANT TO SEE YOUR BOSS!" Blaise yelled. He pulled his wand out, just enough to show the witch whose face he screamed in. "BAGMAN OWES ME MONEY AND I WILL NOT LEAVE HERE UNTIL SOMEONE PAYS IT!"
A few more employees drifted over to stand behind the witch as protection from the mad wizard screaming in the middle of their office. Blaise hid a smirk and ensured he looked furious and ready to begin firing on innocent employees.
"And as I told you, Ludo Bagman no longer works here!" The witch pulled her own wand out and stood firm in front of Blaise. "I'm sorry he swindled you, sir, but this is inappropriate!"
"MORE INAPPROPRIATE THAN YOUR EMPLOYEE STEALING MY MONEY?!" Blaise demanded, allowing himself to look and sound deranged. "I WILL BE CONTACTING THE MINISTER! THE QUEEN! THE—"
He saw Lupin slip out of the inner office door and nod at him. Lupin was an intelligent fellow, and considering he apparently spent much of his time in school being the brains behind some of 'the greatest pranks in history', he'd been a decent person to pair up with for their trip.
Blaise had been insulted at first, believing Harry paired them based on their similar scars and oh so tragic pasts, but then Harry informed him rather glibly that he didn't trust Lupin on his own and he trusted Blaise with his life.
And Blaise would hardly ever allow Harry to feel as if his trust was misplaced.
"On second thought, I understand you're simply doing your job," Blaise said, now offering the startled witch a friendly smile. "Have a wonderful day."
*****
"Alright, Freddie, do we do this the Slytherin way or the Gryffindor way?" George asked cheerfully as they stood outside the Department of Magical Accidents and Obliviations.
Fred smiled at his brother and pulled a handful of decoy detonators from his robe pocket. "Neither, I vote we do it the Weasley way."
George grinned and clapped a hand to Fred's shoulder. "You mean the Potter way?" he asked with a wink. "Fred Potter, you mad bastard."
Fred's eyes went unfocused as he thought of his incredible luck. "Yeah," he said dreamily, picturing Harry's face when they returned with information for him. "Let's do it the Weasley and Potter way."
George laughed again before knocking smartly on the door and nudging it open. "I think the Potter way involves a lot more bloodshed, mate."
It did, actually, but Fred figured the Weasley way would be just as effective this time.
*****
Harry waited until the last of his people apparated away before grinning at Hermione and Lucius.
"Don't catch my house on fire, I'll see you tonight," he said as he turned on his heel and headed for the back door.
"Are you not apparating?" Hermione asked, her voice breathless, as she awkwardly got to her feet and tried to follow Harry's quick and confident steps.
Harry didn't slow down for her, he just smirked over his shoulder. "Nope. I'm taking the bike, aren't I? Not much of a distraction if I just quietly pop in."
"You are not meant to be a distraction," Lucius said, also getting to his feet now and trailing behind Hermione to follow Harry. "Not unless someone informs you of danger."
Harry shrugged and let them follow him out back where his bike sat. He ran a loving hand down the seat and smiled to himself. He wasn't going to get a lot of chances to drive it, might as well make his appearance at the Ministry as much of a spectacle as he could.
"You can't drive that clear to London," Hermione said, standing in the doorway and resting a hand over Rosie, as if protecting her from what Harry was certain she considered an idiotic idea. "Take the cloak and follow the plan, please?"
Harry shook his head at her, threw a leg over the bike, and held the handlebars tightly. "Mione, this was always my plan, I just forgot to tell everyone about it, didn't I?."
Hermione grimaced and clutched her stomach tightly. "You are an idiot," she hissed.
"Brill, love that for me," Harry said with a careless drawl.
He winked at her, nodded at Lucius, then twisted his toes in the dirt, popping himself and his bike to the streets of London, only a few minutes ride to the entrance of the Ministry.
He left the helmet Lupin got him at home, no point at all in showing up if nobody saw Harry Potter headed in the direction of the Ministry on a sunny afternoon for a chat with the Minister.
By the time Harry pulled up to the employee entrance, parking his bike in the most visible location- Harry was in the spotlight.
And he loved it.
"Morning," he called brightly to a wizard who had actually frozen in the process of entering one of the stalls that Harry knew 'flushed' a person down to the atrium.
Which was fucking disgusting and Harry would never do except he wanted the largest possible audience and he wouldn't get it at the visitors entrance.
Harry was shit at whistling, but he'd be damned if he looked nervous as these useless lot did, so he tried to whistle. He kept his arms loose. He kept his head high. He forced a half-arsed, 'I'm better than you and I know it', smirk on his lips. Then he stepped inside one of the stalls and let out a delighted laugh at the green fire blazing inside of it.
"Timmy, Timmy, Timmy, it's a shame you're a prat, because you're also a genius," he murmured. He grabbed a pinch of the powder that sat in the bowl beside the fire and threw it on the flames before stepping confidently in and calling for the Atrium.
If Harry was going to cause a spectacle, it was going to be the biggest damn spectacle the Ministry had ever seen.
And Harry was immediately given an opening when he stepped from a fireplace and came face to face with a group of black robed witches and wizards centered in front of him.
"Morning," he says, forcing himself to sound so bright and cheerful. Any place he would rather be? Not at all! "Wow, love what Timmy's done with the place."
Harry makes a show of looking around the atrium, leaning up and looking past the group to see the lights of the atrium glancing off a brand new, brightly glittering, statue in the center of the room. It was tasteful, honestly, not at all disturbing. There was a wizard holding a wand up, his face twisted in what was probably meant to be a victorious look, as he stood with one foot propped up on a pile of faceless and broken bodies.
Harry took a chance to wiggle his fingers up in the air, shooting a spell at the statue and melting the wand the wizard held, drawing at least a dozen more sets of eyes toward him. He waved cheerily, maintaining his own beloved public appearance while soaking in the spotlight.
The man who decided to take the lead in Timmy's little group of troops cleared his throat and stepped forward. Harry's smile turns sharp, warning him of his mistake, and he quickly steps backward, nearly stumbling over his robes.
"Mister Potter, the Minister is expecting you," he said, his voice gruff and unaffected. "Come with us."
"You first," Harry hummed loudly and pleasantly. He bounced on the balls of his feet, hoping the longer he stood there the more people took note of him.
Harry had always known that the more witnesses he had- the smaller his odds of dying were. If he made fifty people aware of his entrance to the Ministry that day, how did they plan on hiding his death when they'd just been singing his praises in the paper?
The man opened his mouth, looking poised to argue, and a women sighed and elbowed him in a way that looked like it hurt.
"Follow us," she said flatly, apparently not much enjoying being on team 'fetch Harry Potter from the atrium', which was a shame because Harry planned on making it quite easy for them.
"I'd love to follow you to Minister Gaunt's office," Harry yelled loudly, beaming at the looks of exasperation on the troop's faces and the looks of curiosity on the nearby, and nosy, employee's faces. Harry waited for the troops to turn, leading him onward, before talking at their backs and ensuring his voice carried through the corridors they walked down.
"I've got a lunch meeting at one," Harry said, forcing a gay and light tone to his voice. He would never let them know he was sweating. If they wanted to see or hear his fear, they'd have to break him apart and look for it.
Harry wasn't scared for himself, he didn't give a damn about meeting Timmy- been there, done that. But Harry had twenty people inside the Ministry, twenty of his people inside the spiders web.
"This shouldn't take long," one of the witches said, she turned to look at Harry and he took the opportunity to wink at her, choosing to be as annoying as possible. She turned a little pink as she quickly whipped her head back around, and Harry smirked.
"Do you lot call yourselves employees still or have you gotten a recent tattoo?" Harry asked, waving widely to the employees they passed in a department. He felt his coin heat up and took a quick chance to check it, relieved to see that Charlie and Neville were gone.
Eighteen more to go.
"I've gotten a recent tattoo, on my ankle obviously," Harry went on when the employee's shoulders stiffened but none answered him. "No creepy snakes though, it's a—"
"Here." The group of totally not death eater employees stopped in front of a grand and obstinate door with a large golden plate on it that announced it as the Minister of Magic.
Harry had been fairly certain Timmy moved it since he used to have lunch with Fudge in it.
"No need to knock, we're old friends," Harry winked as he held his chin high and marched between the parting group. He allowed himself a fraction of a second to compose his face, amusement was all he wanted to show, then he threw the door open with a dramatic flourish, causing it to bounce off the interior wall.
"Holy shit." Harry actually had to work to compose himself as the door silently closed behind him and he took in Timmy's new look. He'd seen the photos in the paper, but…
"You certainly didn't come out of the cauldron looking like that," Harry smirked. "The nose is a nice touch."
Timmy looked entirely human, handsome even. He sat behind his desk, he chin propped in his hand and he studied Harry through dark and hooded eyes. His hair was brushed back neatly, his nose was replaced, honestly he was a decent looking bloke.
A decent looking bloke that took Harry's little brother from him. A decent looking bloke that ended Trent's life at only thirteen and put an early expiration date on Harry's life.
A decent looking bloke that Harry hoped suffered a painful death at the end.
"Mm, an improvement, is it not?" Timmy smiled blandly and kept his eyes trained on Harry. "Tell me, Little Horcrux, what brings you to my office?"
It was almost surreal, standing in a large and sunlit office, looking at the very human face of his enemy, and carrying on a nearly normal conversation. It was… incredibly odd.
Harry took a fearless step forward, forcing his body to remain loose and careless. He looked around the office, noting the normal looking bookshelves, the large glass windows behind Timmy, and the single article framed on the wall declaring Timmy as the Minister.
"Came to congratulate you, of course," Harry said casually. "Minister of Magic? Fuckin brill, Timmy."
Timmy grimaced slightly, probably at Harry's insistence on calling him Timmy, but he rearranged his face back into polite interest quickly.
"Congratulations to you as well," he said smoothly. "I trust my employees did not dampen your marriage to Frederick?"
"Not at all," Harry said brightly. "Bit of fighting just made it more fun."
Timmy chuckled quietly, his eyes lighting up with something. "An excellent pureblood match, hmm? And here I thought you did not prescribe to the old ideals."
"Oh, I don't," Harry said with a shrug. He leaned against the bookcase, ignoring the seats across from Timmy. It was all already one of the most peculiar experiences of his life, no need to sit and order tea and make it worse. "I might have married Fred even if he was a muggle."
He wouldn't have, but he'd never say it out loud. The way Timmy arched a brow at him made him think he knew it though, so Harry veered the conversation away from Fred.
"I like what you've done with the place," he said casually. "Took the biggest office, yeah? I liked it better when Fudge was Minister though, more photos of me on his desk, ya know?"
Timmy's lips, because he had lips now, twisted into a smirk. "Perhaps I will frame a photo of the Minister and Harry Potter declaring their plans on the steps of the Ministry together."
Harry felt a flare of heat in his pocket and his fingers itched to know who else made it out, but he resisted the urge to check. It would pulse three times if it was distress, a single flare up just meant they were down to sixteen people left in the Ministry.
"Yeah? What are your plans then? World domination? Kill all the muggles? Forced horcruxes?" Harry added in Parsletongue.
Timmy's smile widened into something sharp and cruel. "Why would I tell you my plans when your charming followers are busy searching for them now?"
Harry felt his stomach lurch, but he kept his face cool and calm. "Dunno what you mean," he said airily. "I'm not the one commanding a bunch of brainless fuckin idiots to do my bidding."
Timmy didn't lose his shark-like smile, he kept it up and watched Harry as he very slowly reached in his desk drawer and pulled out a sheet of parchment. "No?" he murmured quietly. "What is this then, Little Horcrux?"
Harry tilted his head curiously at the parchment and silently summoned it from Timmy's desk to his hands. It took every last bit of effort Harry had to not snarl as he stared at a list of names and departments- fucking identical to the exact list Harry wrote to keep track of who went where. At the top of the list was even the date and time of the first round of apparations.
It meant Timmy knew that Harry's people were in the Ministry.
It meant that there was a traitor in Harry's group.
Harry held the parchment up and burnt it to ashes before flicking his fingers and spreading the ashes about the office.
"That's cute," Harry sneered, anger boiling in his blood and a haze of rage fogging his brain. "Don't suppose you want to tell me who gave you that list, yeah? I can kill them for lying to you, if you want."
Timmy looked amused, which only pissed Harry off more because he wasn't there for his bloody entertainment.
"I don't think I will," he said in a silky tone. "Apologies, darling Harry, but it could prove to be a fortuitous avenue for me to pursue in the future. Also," Timmy's eyes darkened, "I enjoy the idea of you torturing your followers for disloyalty." He slipped as easily into Parsletongue as Harry did when he wanted to, "Let me know if you need assistance, I do have much more experience than you."
Harry was so angry he had to work hard to keep his magic from lashing out, destroying the entire office. It had been less infuriating talking with and taunting Timmy back when he'd been noseless and blatantly insane. "No need for torture," Harry told him tightly. "They lied to you anyway, didn't they? We changed the date. I'm here alone."
"Oh?" Timmy smirked and waved his hand in front of him, causing an image to begin playing. Harry took a step forward in curiosity and everything twisted in sickening rage and fear at what he saw.
Luna and Fleur rifling through a stack of paperwork, their nearly identical blonde hair shining while they spoke quickly and quietly to one another.
Harry bit his tongue so hard that he felt his teeth rip the skin open and blood fill his mouth. He swallowed it down and forced himself to look away from Luna directly at Timmy.
"Don't," he warned him quietly, his voice soft and dangerous. "If they don't leave this building unharmed I swear to god I will make you regret it."
"Will you?" Timmy asked curiously. He waved his hand again, dissipating the screen between them, then tilted his head at Harry and blinked. "How?"
Harry laughed, startled and panicked and uncertain. How did you threaten a mad wizard who split his soul up to ensure his own immorality?
Oh.
"I'll kill myself," Harry said, smiling charmingly when Timmy's eyes flashed with anger. "I've got a brill sword I used on a basilisk, a couple fangs too now that I think about it. You'd be short a horcrux if I decided to drive one through my chest, yeah?"
"You would die to protect them?" Timmy asked, not doing nearly as well as Harry did at disguising his voice.
Harry put both hands on the desk and leaned down to get in Timmy's face. "No," he lied. "I'd die to piss you off though. Don't test me, Timmy, I can summon a fang with a bat of my fuckin eyelashes and do it right here in your office."
"You believe I would be mortal if you did?" Timmy asked, his eyes scorching as he tried to push his consciousness in Harry's mind.
Harry blocked him, nearly having to grind his teeth to do so. Timmy knew Harry knew about the one horcrux, Harry couldn't give him a heads up that he knew about the others. He knew where one was, he couldn't risk it being moved or Timmy making more before they destroyed it.
"If I die so can you," Harry taunted him in a whisper, feigning ignorance on the other horcruxes. "No human horcrux, no eternal reign as minister. They leave here safely, Timmy, or we both die tonight."
The silence was thick and loaded as they stared in each other's eyes and judged one another.
Harry hoped Timmy could see his determination in the set of his jaw, the hardness of his eyes. If Timmy made a move against him, Harry would drive a sword through his own chest and hope someone found that tiara quick.
They could end the war today, if Timmy hurt Luna.
Timmy's lips curled up. "Ever the enigma, Little Horcrux. What did you hope to accomplish today?"
Harry chose to believe that was as much of an acknowledgement of their impasse as Timmy would give and straightened himself back up.
A flare of heat.
Fourteen left.
"I thought I'd see what new changes we can expect from the Ministry," Harry said with a disgusted sneer. "What's first? Kill all the muggles? Kill muggleborns?"
Timmy smiled, a perfectly pleasant and charming smile, then waved his hand again, opening the office door wide.
"See if your followers have discovered my horribly evil plans," he said drily. "Though, if I were you, darling, I would inform them they have less than a minute to leave before I have them all arrested or killed." He leaned forward and his eyes were sharp, "This is my playground, Little Horcrux, and until you join me, you're not welcome. We'll speak soon, I'm certain of it."
Harry opened his mouth but was abruptly shoved from the room with a burst of magic and the door was slammed shut in from of him while he landed on his arse in the corridor.
Timmy had to die- he killed Trent and Barty and couldn't be allowed to live.
But…
Harry got to his feet, relieved that his abrupt ejection from the office had gone unwitnessed.
But damn if Timmy wouldn't have made a brill partner to have.
Harry eyed the closed door curiously as he reached in his pocket and ran his thumb over the face of the gold coin he carried. He sent a brief message, 'Leave now,' and waited for confirmation that his people were out before he left.
This new Timmy was discomforting and Harry wasn't sure how to deal with him. Gone was the screaming insults and death threats. Gone were the whispered claims to Harry's essential being.
Timmy was playing a new game and Harry didn't understand the rules. He wasn't built for political wars and polite threats. Harry was built to destroy and fight fire with fire. And Timmy wasn't burning so hotly anymore…
Harry leaned against the wall, playing with the coin and letting it flip between his fingers easily while he thought.
Timmy must be entirely confident that he'd get Harry to his side in the end. In fact, Timmy's confidence didn't waver the entire time Harry stood in his office. Timmy knew they were at a stalemate. He knew Harry would happily see him dead, but… but Timmy must think Harry was much more attached to life than he really was.
That was the only logical thought Harry could think of, he was sure Sev or Theo would have more though. Timmy must believe that he had time to convert Harry, he must have developed some patience for the idea. They both knew their lives were tangled so tightly that neither could die while the other lived.
Harry smirked and pocketed the coin that had flared with heat a few times as he thought about how pissed Timmy would be when he discovered the flaw in his plan. He overestimated how much Harry wanted to live.
Did he want to leave his friends, his husband, his Sev? Not particularly.
Better he leaves them early than lose them and suffer like he did when he lost Trent though.
Dying wasn't giving in, it wasn't a lack of self-preservation. Harry was protecting himself for an eternity, and fucking up Timmy's plan would just be the icing on the tart.
Harry waited for the final flare of heat to inform him that the last of his people left the Ministry and pocketed the coin. He thrust his chin up, forced a smug look on his face, and strut from the Minister's corridor toward the atrium.
He had a traitor to kill.
Harry did pause long enough to hex Percy Weasley with a stinging spell when he saw his pale and freckled face peek out of his office and blink at him behind his glasses.
Fuckin prat.