The Gray's Secret: Scene 14 (Patreon)

Whooshing through the British floo system, Harry thoughts went over what he wanted to accomplish that day again and again, still rotating through each of his people, their roles, competencies, weaknesses, and how best to use all of them.

Finally stepping out of a floo in the Ministry entrance hall, Harry stepped aside and took stock.

Busy.

As expected.

While his people and Lily made their own landings, he turned to the fireplace next to his, just as a middle-aged rotund wizard whooshed out of it and stepped onto the marble floor with a click-clack of leather shoes.

Lord Slughorn turned, spotted him, and raised his eyebrows — as though seeing him there, today, was somehow a surprise. “Harry,” he said in a voice that was equal parts cigars and booze. The gaze travelled behind him and up. “And Lily. Sunny.” The gaze flicked back down again. “Daphne. You’re looking enchanting, as always.”

Harry fancied he could feel the air temperature behind him lower several degrees and he wondered if he looked down, if he’d see frost start to creep across the marble floor. Daphne might be the most actually traditional of his witches—as opposed to Alex who more cosplayed tradition—but that didn’t mean she appreciated the emotional torment this man had once put her through. Back before he’d gotten his head out of his arse and bought out her betrothal contract.

“Walter,” Daphne’s mother greeted in a level voice. “All our allies are ready?”

“Of course!” Slughorn replied and then gave an exaggerated bow. “The Gray is strong and we are united.” He straightened and looked around the party before fixing on Lily with a confused expression. “John being held up?”

Lily’s expression remained blank for several moments before her face turned horrified, she let out a little squeak, and subsequently dove back for the floo.

Slughorn chuckled. “I guess that answers that.” His face turned serious. “So, Harry. How’s your poker game doing since the Winter Festival? Faced anyone with a legilimency play, yet?”

Harry tilted his head in response. “I was actually using a legilimency play myself during the festival. A minor one, but still.”

“Indeed?” Slughorn looked dubious.

Then Harry felt it — the gentle brush of a legilimency probe against his mind.

It was pretty much the same thing he’d done with Tracey Davis on the Hogwarts Express last year, when she’d once doubted his capabilities.

Unlike Tracey, though, Harry had more options than just ‘get mentally groped’, or tickled, or whatever equivalency you fancied.

Yanking hard on the probe, Harry’s world vanished, and he found himself standing at the black chasm between minds, just outside his mental fortress of Azkaban Prison. All the hustle and bustle of the ministry atrium had vanished. It was just him, his thoughts, and the bridge.

Time outside slowed.

Harry waited.

Eventually, Lord Walter Slughorn strode down the bridge towards him.

“I see,” Walter said, looking decidedly unimpressed. “Another display of power from Slytherin’s Prince? It takes more than talent to make a leader, boy.”

“You don’t believe I could lead the Gray?” Harry asked.

Slughorn scoffed. “Maybe one day, you could. But you are too young now, child. And Slytherin is presumptuous to name a successor so early in his own ascendancy. It doesn’t engender trust. It’s like he’s straight up telling us he doesn’t plan to be around long.”

Harry pursed his lips. “You could call it good short-term contingency planning.”

Slughorn gave him a withering look. “Or, you could call it terrible long-term contingency planning. Slytherin is betrothed, twice over. And Daphne chose the Ritual of the Lady on her thirteenth. Slytherin will soon have brats all over the place. The man can say that they’ll have to make their own way all he wants. If he’s no longer around, they’ll fight for control like kneezles in a bag. That is the nature of power.”

Harry made a mental note that Slughorn had access to the cross-faction spy network in the Department of Family Magics. Rituals were not supposed to be a matter of public record. But given that the ministry was a faction in itself, neither the Gray nor the Dark was particularly enthusiastic to conduct a clean sweep to remove the corruption that acted as a balance against corruption inherent in the ministry’s mandate. The light might be tempted, but so far had the good sense not to pluck out their own eye just because they’d seen something offensive.

He could see Slughorn’s position. And obviously, the man was missing key information. But that was the problem. There were still plenty of lords in the Gray—the majority, in fact—who believed Harry was merely Lord Slytherin’s protégé. Not that he was Lord Slytherin. He needed more time to bring them on board safely so the faction could maintain cohesiveness when he was ready to publish the book Lockhart was working on.

Of all the people to bring in on the secret, Harry trusted Slughorn the least.

Part of that was the man’s character.

Part of it was that Harry had snatched Daphne from under his nose.

Only a fool would trust someone they had so publicly humiliated. Who still clearly coveted that which they felt had been stolen from them. That resentment would likely only grow as Daphne matured into a beautiful woman — a resentment that could even threaten the faction as a whole, given how much pull the man had.

If he wanted to avoid that, he really should find someone he could pair the man up with. Just hoping he’d find a bride to replace his deceased wife clearly hadn’t worked.

Not Tracey, he quickly promised himself — again.

Or Astoria.

In fact, not anyone he gave even a tiny shit about.

But preferably someone he could still influence.

…not an easy task.

The ministry faded back around him.

The bustling sounds of early morning rush returned.

Lord Slughorn stayed where he stood.

Harry nodded. “You have given me plenty to think about. Thank you.”

Seemingly modified, Slughorn nodded back. “Congratulations on your animagus form,” he said before turning. He craned his neck over his shoulder. “And you too, Miss Lovegood. Very impressive forms. Daphne.”

And with that, he walked off towards the main Wizengamot chamber.

Harry’s party started in the same direction once Slughorn was a sufficiently comfortable distance away.

“What happened there?” Hermione half-whispered, half-hissed, leaning in close so only those immediately around could hear.

“Legilimency conversation,” Harry replied. “Nothing critical. Just feeling him out. Slughorn has always been our Achilles heel.”

“Shame we couldn’t deal with his nephew,” Daphne muttered. “Horace is supposed to be a wet drip by comparison.”

“The way he was looking at you,” Alex said, sounding revolted. “Felt like dead bugs crawling up my spine.”

“Alex, you’re supposed to leave your pets at home,” Luna admonished.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Harry whispered, even quieter, just as they were about to turn the final corner to the main Wizengamot chamber. “Slytherin masks on, girls. First on the docket — the basilisk hearing. Ready, Lady Greengrass?”

Sunny Greengrass smiled down at him and nodded.

They turned the corner.

And Harry found himself walking straight towards a man waiting at the door to the hearing room.

Lord James Potter.

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