Power Plays Chapter 28 (Patreon)

AN: Hopefully, this chapter should give some more insight as to what the major focus of this arc of the story will be about. It'll also introduce a few new potential pairings for Harry, each with interesting consequences for his goal of gaining power. 

There is a minor retcon I'll be altering in a few days time. In Chapter 2, I made reference to Hermione being at the Weasley's over breakfast. I will be removing her from that chapter, and the reason will be explained in this chapter.

As I said before, this arc of the story will have more smut than the last. You'll get a new pairing next chapter to enjoy!

PAGE BREAK

Bluster and spittle filled the air as Harry reclined back in his seat in the stands of the Wizengamot. The assembled members of the esteemed body were terribly busy shouting over top of one another, each demanding to be the loudest voice in the room. Even his girlfriend, Daphne, was on her feet and shouting, though she looked much more elegant at it compared to some. In the sunken pit in the centre of the room, Leopold, Pleasant, and Pansy Parkinson were all sitting in uncomfortable-looking chairs, watching the chaos unfold around them.

It had been like this for nearly twenty minutes now. The banging gavel of the Chief Warlock, Elphias Doge, was doing little to restore order to the chambers. One of the Aurors in the room had tried creating the sound of a bullhorn to get everyone to calm down, but even that wasn’t enough. Harry had waved the man down; it was better to let the Wizengamot vent its frustrations and return to the matter at hand with a more level head.

This was an all-too-familiar scene. The reporter from the Daily Prophet barely bothered to snap off a couple of quick photos for the paper tomorrow; it would be the exact same as last week’s debacle, and the public had become tired of it. 

In the central slice of the stands, Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt had his head in his hands. Harry couldn’t blame him. The way that the divided Wizengamot had slipped into all-out anarchy under his watch was disgraceful, and nothing he seemed to be doing worked. He still failed to realise that he needed to excise the infection that was destroying the Wizengamot in the first place if he wanted any hope of saving the rest of it.

Behind him, next to the seat Harry was normally afforded when he wasn’t here on official business, Amelia Bones looked upon the chaos sternly, like a disappointed professor at an unruly classroom. He knew that part of her disappointment was due to how difficult a time the Wizengamot was having at coming to a conclusion on such a simple case as this, but it was more broadly directed at how anarchical the Wizengamot had become over the past few months.

“She couldn’t have known!” One voice shouted.

“She is his wife! Of course she knew!” Someone shouted back.

“It’s all the girl’s fault! Everyone heard about what she did during the Battle of Hogwarts!”

“How can you say that? This is on her father’s head, not hers!”

“This entire trial is a farce! How could they have possibly known about the secret room!”

“Shut up!”

The last voice boomed and reverberated through the Wizengamot chambers, rattling each and every chair. Instinctively, Harry’s grip tightened on his wand he had hidden away within his robes.

Amid the sea of plum-coloured robes, one man leapt onto a chair, keeping his wand pointed at his throat so that he could maintain the most powerful Sonorous Charm possible: Rhys Orpington.

“All of you, shut up!” Rhys shouted at the top of his lungs.

Harry cocked his head to the side as he watched what unfolded. Instantly, a dozen members out of the seventy total members went silent. Then, like a wave, the rest began to follow suit.

It was a clever play, Harry had to admit. Several of the individuals who’d fallen silent weren’t even members of Rhys’s clique, but they were other pure-blood traditionalists. Most observers wouldn’t have even noticed the exact men and women who went quiet immediately, and those that did wouldn’t have thought anything more of it due to this, but Harry did. It was too coordinated to be anything but a preplanned play. Harry had never forgotten what Rhys did to Eloise’s family, or the subtle threats he’d made to Harry after the raid on Rowle Manor. He kept a close eye on the man at all times, waiting for just the slightest slip up.

And now, Harry had seen Rhys play too many of his cards at once. He was gathering more allies within the Wizengamot, but they were trying to disguise their relationships by not openly supporting each other.

Curious.

Once the crowd of Wizengamot members fell silent, Rhys continued his tirade.

“This is just the latest step in Head Auror Potter’s overreach!” He announced loudly. Instantly, voices were raised on both sides of the issue, but Rhys spoke over them as though they weren’t even there. “When we could be dealing with important issues, we’re stuck dealing with another case like this!”

“That’s because you lot keep whinging and demanding a hearing over each arrest he makes!” A man’s voice boomed in reply.

It was one of Daphne’s progressive, pure-blood allies, and Harry could see that Daphne was nodding at him with approval. It was good to see her leading her faction in the Wizengamot so effectively, even if it was only one of the medium-sized ones.

“These hearings are to try to limit governmental overreach!” Rhys retorted angrily.

“You’re the one overreaching with all of these hearings!” The man countered.

Daphne shifted through the crowd, leaning over one of the seats to whisper something to another Wizengamot member.

Rhys realised he wasn’t getting anywhere arguing with the man, so he turned to address the other Wizengamot members who’d been silently watching the confrontation. “We’re here dealing with a simple case of a family who didn’t even know they had dark artefacts in a long-forgotten part of their Manor! They haven’t used any of them, so why are we bothering to make a big fuss over this? I say that the Auror Department could better spend its resources dealing with problems elsewhere!”

“If this is, as you say Lord Orpington, a big fuss that we shouldn’t be dealing with, then let’s put the matter of the Parkinson family’s fate to a vote!” Daphne shouted, using a Sonorous Charm herself to amplify her voice. “That’ll free up the Head Auror to go deal with problems elsewhere!”

Instantly, four other wands lit up above their respective owner’s heads, signalling their support for the vote.

It took several minutes for all of the Wizengamot members to return to their seats, and a few more before the formal voting took place.

In the end, it was as Harry expected: Lord Leopold Parkinson was sentenced to six years in Azkaban due to the severity of the dark artefacts in his family’s possession, Lady Pleasant Parkinson was sentenced to one and a half years over her knowledge of the artefacts as well, and Pansy Parkinson was given a year’s worth of probation, requiring regular meetings with and searches by Aurors, to ensure that she did not reclaim or obtain any new dark artefacts on her or her family’s behalf.

It was a good sentence, in Harry’s opinion. He still believed that Pansy was aware of the dark artefacts in her family’s possession, but it was tricky to prove. At the very least, with this increased supervision, it would be difficult for her to do anything questionable.

The real reward though was that more dark artefacts would be out of the hands of those who were most likely to use them.

The Wizengamot session convened then, and everyone made their way out into the corridors. 

Daphne found him there, hurrying to his side.

“You did wonderful,” he told her with a smile.

Daphne snorted. “It was a wasted day,” she replied. “This case should have been over days ago.”

“At least now it is,” Harry replied. “I’m sorry to say that you’ll probably have another case like this next week.”

“I just wish those knobheads would get over these arrests and just let them happen without dragging out a week-long Wizengamot session,” Daphne sighed.

“You love the politicking, though,” Harry pointed out playfully.

“I just wish I could put it to use on more important things,” Daphne sighed again.

“Harry!”

He turned away from Daphne to see Kingsley hurrying through the crowd. He had three aides trailing close behind him, each with various books and parchments, trying to demand the Minister’s attention. However, Kingsley was ignoring them all as he reached Harry’s side.

“Lady Greengrass,” Kingsley gave Daphne a polite nod. He sounded a bit out of breath, and glancing down at his belly, Harry could see that the man was still steadily putting on weight. 

“Minister,” Daphne nodded in reply. “I’ll leave the two of you alone. I’ll see you at home later, Harry.”

Harry gave her a chaste peck on the cheek and turned back to Kingsley.

“It’s good to see the two of you doing well together, even with your jobs taking up so much of your time,” Kingsley chuckled affably with a look of longing at Daphne’s retreating form.

Harry smiled back lightly at the man. “Things not going well at home, sir?” He asked gently.

Kingsley’s lips quirked downward just a touch, and Harry knew he’d hit the mark. He could only imagine how stressful it would be watching the Wizengamot fall to pieces around him like this. There were already rumours that a few department heads were beginning to question his leadership too.

“Something like that,” Kingsley mumbled. Then, he cleared his throat and put on his politician smile again. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I need you to come with me to my office right now.”

There was something in Kingsley’s voice that put Harry on edge. It wasn’t quite that something was necessarily wrong, but it was something very important.

“Alright,” Harry nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Like swatting flies, Kingsley waved away the aides who were still vying for his attention before he set off with Harry. Flashes of light erupted as Harry and Kingsley walked together, reporters rattled off well-rehearsed questions, and various members of the Wizengamot sought out to speak to either Harry or Kingsley.

It took a practised effort to maintain a pleasant, light-hearted smile for the cameras despite the annoyance Harry felt internally. All of this interference from the Wizengamot was grating on him, and he wished that he could simply be done with it all. Still, this was how politics were played in this country, and until he was in a position to change it, he had to abide by their rules.

Harry was grateful that everyone moved out of his way as he led Kingsley forward. His status as Head Auror commanded respect, and the memory of how he dealt with the last nosey reporter who had tried to badger him into submission still remained in everyone’s minds. They managed to quickly reach the lift and send it flying to Level One of the Ministry.

As the doors opened, a familiar voice rang out.

“You’re back, sir, I was just… Harry?”

A genuine smile erupted across Harry’s lips as he laid eyes on his best friend for the first time in nearly a year. “Hermione!” Harry exclaimed as he stepped out of the lift.

As prudent as ever, Hermione set down the parchment that was in her hand before she leapt into his arms and gave him a bone-crushing hug. Her curly brown hair engulfed his vision, and the scent of her vanilla-and-spice-scented perfume filled his nostrils.

It was a warm and sweet feeling that filled Harry’s chest knowing that Hermione was finally back.

“How was America?” He asked her sincerely once they finally released each other. “And when did you get back?”

“Everything there was wonderful!” Hermione beamed up at him. “I was so grateful to be able to spend so much time in the MACUSA Archives. There are so many fascinating documents about the migration of magical beings between Britain and America; it really helped out my research for the Department of International Magical Co-operation! I only got back yesterday. I would’ve come to visit you, but—”

“But I needed her help,” Kingsley interrupted with a smile. “There was an opening in my staff, and I asked Hermione to take on the role of one of my Junior Assistants to the Minister for Magic. With the Wizengamot in the state it’s in, I need all the help I can get, and Hermione isn’t called the most brilliant witch of her age for nothing.”

“No, she certainly isn’t,” Harry said, making Hermione blush lightly.

“I’d love to catch up more, Harry,” Hermione told him with a grimace. “But things are really busy here right now. Maybe we could meet up for supper in a few days or next week sometime?”

“That’ll be best discussed for another time,” Kingsley interjected. “Harry and I need to have a talk first.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Hermione said, stepping back to grab the parchment she’d set down.

Kingsley’s strange behaviour nagged at Harry. What was going on?

“I’ll be by to see you when I’m done with Harry,” Kingsley told Hermione as he started guiding Harry towards his office. 

“Bye, Hermione,” Harry managed to call out over his shoulder.

Hermione waved goodbye with an awkward smile and then quickly ducked into a nearby corridor.

“I’m sorry to cut your reunion short,” Kingsley said to Harry. “But I’ve got a guest waiting for us.”

“A guest?” Harry asked. “Who?”

“You’ll see in a second,” Kingsley assured him.

Harry twitched his nose in annoyance. Honestly, was Kingsley deliberately trying to leave him in the dark for what seemed to be an important meeting? For a moment, Harry wondered if Kingsley’s faith in him was starting to waver, or maybe if the pressure he was under was finally making the man crack. 

Regardless, Harry was going to maintain his composure. If he wanted to see the change in the wizarding world that he wanted, he couldn’t let little things like this get to him.

So, he readied himself as Kingsley opened the door to his office and led Harry inside.

“Ah, Minister,” a French-accented voice spoke. “How wonderful to see you again.”

The man that stood up from the chair in front of the Minister’s desk was older—given that he looked to be in his forties, Harry had to guess that he was in his early sixties—but he was undeniably well dressed. His fine grey robes were tailored nicely to his body, and his boots were made of dark dragon hide leather. His short hair was peppered with grey, but it looked dignified on him.

However, all of that faded from Harry’s mind the moment the man’s piercing blue eyes landed on Harry’s. There was a moment of recognition there, and a hint of danger in the air. This man sized Harry up in an instant in a way that put Harry on guard. It reminded him of the look of a seasoned combat veteran.

But then the moment passed, and Harry finally released the breath he’d held. He noticed that the man did the same.

Kingsley didn’t seem to notice. “Harry, this is Sebastian Delacour, the Head of France’s Bureau de la Justice Magique—a similar body to our Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” he explained excitedly.

So, that was what the feeling Harry had felt was. He’d encountered a few other Aurors from Ministries all over the world that had given him a similar sensation, but Sebastian was another level above them. He gave a feeling to Harry that was closer to what he’d had when he’d seen Dumbledore and Voldemort in their elements, but perhaps not quite to the same level as them. Still, he clearly wasn’t a man to be trifled with.

But he knew he didn’t have to worry about that when Sebastian put a big smile on his face and clasped Harry’s hand in a professional shake. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr Potter,” he said sincerely. “My daughters have both spoken your praises time and time again. It is a shame that we are only meeting now; I had hoped to meet you at my daughter’s wedding.”

Harry remembered that day well. He’d only seen Sebastian in passing, and his thoughts were quite preoccupied that day, so it was no wonder he didn’t recognise him today.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” Harry said as he returned the handshake. “And yes, it would have been nice to meet you then. Unfortunately, I was disguised at the time.”

“Yes, my daughter’s told me all about what you had to endure during the reign of Voldemort and his Death Eaters,” Sebastian said gravely. “In fact, that is why we’re meeting with you today.”

“Please, sit down,” Kingsley gestured to the other open seat in front of his desk.

Harry sat, and the two men followed suit.

Despite all of the vagueness, Harry knew what this was about. In the months since the failed Death Eater resurgence here in Britain, Rita had been keeping him up to date with news stories coming out of Europe about alleged Death Eater sightings. Most were hoaxes, and fewer were lone individuals. However, the rumours out of France had been the most concerning. 

Pure-blood witches and wizards had been disappearing in large numbers for months now, and the French public was growing ever more concerned with each passing day without any resolutions. There were rumours that Death Eaters were involved, but they were only just that: rumours. There was no evidence that he or Rita had heard of that could back up these claims.

But if Sebastian was here, given the allusions he made moments ago, there had to be something more substantial to the rumours.

“I take it you’ve kept abreast of the goings on in France as of late?” Sebastian asked Harry, almost rhetorically.

Harry nodded.

“Then you should know that we have confirmation that former Death Eaters are involved in it,” Sebastian continued. “Just a couple of weeks ago, we interrupted a dark ritual taking place near the southern coast. The kidnappers fled, but we managed to rescue some of the men and women who were in the process of having their blood drained from them. Upon reviewing their memories, we identified Death Eater regalia and uniforms on several of the kidnappers, and we also spotted a known Death Eater supporter.”

Kingsley turned to Harry with a serious look. “Cyrus Greengrass,” he stated simply.

Just the name of his girlfriend’s father made Harry’s blood boil. “He’s in France?” He asked for confirmation.

“Along with dozens of supporters,” Sebastian nodded. “Their numbers are growing too. Some children of former Grindelwald supporters, men and women who’ve grown up on tales of magical superiority and have since combined it with pure-blood fanaticism, have begun to join as well. The movement has begun to spread beyond our borders too; we identified Romanian and Greek wizards among the Death Eater’s ranks.”

“This is all very concerning,” Harry said slowly as he turned his attention back to Kingsley. “But what does this have to do with me, besides the obvious.”

Kingsley and Sebastian shared a look before Kingsley cleared his throat. “I’ve negotiated an agreement with the French Ministry of Magic. You’re being assigned to an international Auror operation that’s set to take place in France to combat the remaining Death Eaters there. You and Sebastian will be joint leaders on this operation, but you’ll be based out of the French Ministry of Magic.”

Harry took a moment to soak this in. A joint operation in France? Such a task would do wonders for his public image and his career, but there was one glaring issue with it.

“As Head Auror, my duty is to oversee the Auror Office here in Britain,” Harry pointed out. “I can’t very well continue to do that if you’re assigning me to this operation in France.”

“Part of the agreement allows for you to return for two days every two weeks,” Kingsley explained. “During that time, you’ll be working here to ensure that the Auror Office is operating smoothly. While you’re away, Director Bones has suggested that Auror Tonks be assigned as the temporary Head Auror. The two of them will share the responsibility of maintaining business as usual while you’re away.”

Amelia suggested that, did she? That was very curious, especially given the facts that she knew how close Harry and Tonks were and that Amelia’s relationship with Harry has been quite tense. 

“We’ve had a hell of a time trying to squash this on our own,” Sebastian admitted. “You’re the one who stopped Voldemort and the recent Death Eater attacks. I can’t think of a better, more knowledgeable man to help put a stop to these criminals.”

Harry couldn’t fault Sebastian’s logic, and even if he could, he didn’t want to. As much as Harry cared about his career and how he could advance to enact the changes he wanted to see in Britain, cases like this were personal. And if Cyrus really was over in France, Harry could finally deal with the man who’d been plaguing Daphne and Astoria’s lives for so long.

“When do we start?” Harry asked.

A sigh of relief escaped Kingsley’s lips, as though he’d been expecting Harry to protest the assignment.

“Thank you, Harry,” Kingsley said sincerely. “You don’t know how much you taking this on will help me out around here. We’d like you to start as soon as possible, as soon as you’ve got your affairs here in order and pick a group of eleven Aurors to bring with you.”

“It’ll take me a few days to wrap things up here,” Harry replied, his mind already thinking about which Aurors he should take with him. “Perhaps we could leave on Monday?”

“That’ll work for us,” Sebastian nodded. “We already have space ready for you in the Bureau. In the meantime, we’ll begin compiling leads for us to work towards.”

“Excellent,” Kingsley clapped his hands together and got to his feet. Harry and Sebastian followed suit. “Thank you very much, gentleman.”

“Of course, Minister,” Harry nodded.

“Then I shall make haste to return to France and begin preparations,” Sebastian said as he started towards the door. He hesitated after just a few steps though and turned around to face Harry again. “I’d like to invite you over for supper on the day of your arrival, Mr Potter. My daughters have missed you dearly, and they’d both appreciate having an evening to catch up with their hero.”

There was a sly smirk on Sebastian’s lips that told Harry that catching up wasn’t quite the right word for what his daughters wanted to do with Harry.