Peverell Ascendant Chapter 8 (Patreon)

He was coming to learn there were different sensations one could feel when they entered a room with powerful individuals. Typically it was the tense atmosphere, creating an unspoken requirement to stick to formality, to stand upright, and to measure your words as to not cause offense. That was the case for those with political or monetary power, of which Harry had experienced many, whether it be the Malfoys or the Delacours.

But there was a different phenomenon associated with those possessing magical power, or rather, power in its most base form. It came with its own sensations, like a constant stagnant buildup of static in the air just waiting to be released. He had felt it while being in the vicinity of Voldemort and Dumbledore, and he felt it again in that moment. The office of Amelia Bones had that same sense of hidden power hanging over everyone’s head, and for once Harry wasn’t powerless against it.

One of Britain’s magical powerhouses sat across from him, and Harry’s magic reacted much like her own. Across his body, he could feel his hairs standing on end, the feeling akin to a monster in the wild meeting a predator of equivalent danger. The only question was whether there would be a peaceful resolution, or whether he and Amelia would leave this room as enemies.

She clearly sensed it too, based on the intense look she was giving him. After all, only a handful of individuals in Europe could release the same amount of magical pressure that he was releasing now, and half of them were Dark Lords.

Don’t waste time. That was essentially the first thing she told him, and he found it ironic that his own thought process worked in a similar manner. “It might surprise you to know I have a lot of enemies, Madam Bones, and at a certain point one tends to lose track of them all. All of them have their own schemes, their own plans for how they want to bring me down, which can become tiresome for me to try to keep up with. This is why I’ve begun making friends to help deal with them, which is why I’m here today.”

The redhead looked more amused than anything, while Tonks stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “Did you come here to make me one of your friends, Mr. Potter?”

“Actually, I came here because I found Dumbledore’s Order to be… unproductive in helping solve some of my current problems.” Her expression shifted from amusement to firmness at his words. “And so I decided to do what I always do, and take matters into my own hands. Which led me to you.”

“Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix.” Amelia voiced aloud, as Dora let out a small gasp in shock. The woman wasn’t a member, but she clearly knew of the group, just as Harry had suspected. “I’ve turned down more of Dumbledore’s invitations than I care to count, as his Order is not something I look upon kindly. My brother Edgar and his wife died as members of it in the last war, their names leaked and both cursed in the back on a casual stroll in Diagon Alley.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He offered as she waved away his sympathies, while Dora grimaced in the background. “And just so you know, I’m not here to ask you to join Dumbledore’s group.”

“Good.”

“Instead I’m here to ask you to join mine.”

The two others present seemed to freeze, looking at him with both surprise and some incredulity. “…Yours? Would this have anything to do with your trip to France?”

“Reading Witch Weekly, Madam Bones?” He teased, realizing she had associated his appearance at the Delacour Ball with him gathering allies. In a way, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Hardly.” She rolled her eyes, but her lip quirked upwards in a way that he liked. “It’s hard not to miss the papers these days, especially when my niece reads them so thoroughly. That said, your trip to France did raise some eyebrows with some of my colleagues on the Wizengamot.”

“I’m forming a coalition.” He told her. “Yes, the Delacours will eventually be in it, as will House Black and Greengrass.”

“Black and Greengrass? You would associate with them?” She stiffened, realizing that he was associating with criminals to achieve his goals. “Why would you tell me this?”

“One question first… Do you want to win?”

She might be humoring him now, but at the end of the day this woman was the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. “That is an unusual question to ask of me… Why even ask it?”

"It's the only question that matters." Harry explained. “Because you can fight this war slowly and inside the lines, do the legitimate investigations, warrants, and trials to try and take out Voldemort’s men just as the Ministry failed to do in the last war. Or you can do it my way, and strangle them in the cradle before they can even move.”

“And do so illegally?” She raised a brow in challenge, but didn’t seem overly angered about his proposition.

“Your part in it would guarantee that you have a say in the methods I use. Otherwise I’ll fight Voldemort and crush his allies without you, meaning it’ll be a bigger mess for your Aurors to deal with.” He continued confidently. “I’m offering you a way to benefit from it all, any less would mean a headache for you, and more would require negotiating on your part.”

She snorted, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms under her tremendous bust. He couldn’t help but let his gaze drift down to the mouthwatering sight of such heavy breasts being pushed together, silently wondering if she knew the effect she had on him in that moment. “I need more before I commit to something like this.”

He thought for a moment, before deciding to reveal one of his cards. “I have people inside Voldemort’s ranks.”

Her gaze narrowed. “I’d say you’re full of hippogriff shit, but I actually believe you. Any chance you can give me a hint?”

“The name Zabini ring any bells?”

“That woman?” Even Amelia grimaced at the woman in question. “You sure she’s not leading you around by the balls?”

“I’ve never met her, only know through my sources that she helps funnel galleons underground to the continent for some of the Death Eater families.” He shrugged.

Amelia gaped at that answer before composing herself, clearly not expecting it. “I see… Just be careful with the likes of her.”

He could tell she was coming over to his side. “I take it you’re open to joining me then?”

“You’ve partly convinced me.” She didn’t outright declare her allegiance to him, but it seemed like she was fine with at least being on friendly terms. After all, it would take more than one meeting to fully get a woman like her on his side.

“Good, because now we can get to the next reason I came here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter from the Ministry’s Misuse of Magic Office, before handing it over.

Amelia unfolded it and her eyes moved over the page quickly, extracting the relevant information from it with a mere glance. “Magic in a muggle area… Yet the spell you used is never listed?”

“Because I never cast a spell.” He paused, thinking back to the encounter, before deciding to elaborate. “Well, I should first say I got this letter from the Ministry after two dementors appeared at my home. Luckily, Auror Tonks apparated us both away in time, so no damage was done."

Amelia looked up at him, then at the Auror accompanying him, standing silently in the corner. "Confirm that."

“It's true, ma'am.” Dora nodded. “Harry lives with his muggle relatives, and it happened while I was alone with him. The dementors appeared on their front lawn, and I apparated us to London to get away. Not a moment after, he got an owl from the Ministry with that letter.”

“I guess I shouldn’t ask what a woman of your station was doing alone with Harry Potter?” Amelia raised a strict brow, and Dora’s face turned bright red in a blush. But he still caught the amused twitch of the Director’s lip before she continued. “This letter has no signature, no timestamp, nor does it list the type of spell used. Due to that, I’m led to believe someone at the Ministry manufactured this, altered an underage detection mechanism, and likely ordered the dementors to appear at your home.”

“I assumed it would be something like that…”

“I'll find out who did this." She decided. “And they will be dealt with appropriately.”

“Perfect.” He breathed, standing up. “Thanks for your help.”

“One last thing.” She stopped him before he left. “Has anyone told you that you’re different than they expected?”

“More often than you would think.”

“Hm.” She hummed, eyes roaming over his form before settling on his face. “I’m looking forward to speaking to you more in the future, Harry.”

/////

It was after their adventure at the Ministry came to an end that Harry and Tonks arrived back at Grimmauld Place to find the place had descended into absolute pandemonium.

His disappearance had caused a greater stir than he anticipated, and led to everyone thinking that the worst had happened. The Order members had come to the conclusion that he had been abducted, that the Death Eaters had somehow gotten past the Fidelius charm and forcefully taken him in the night.

As such, it was quite a comical sight when he casually exited the floo, with Dora following on his heels. A horde of scanning spells and personalized questions later, and most of the Order members settled down as they realized he wasn’t an imposter nor had he been kidnapped.

“Where have you been?!” Sadly, not everyone was over his disappearing act, as Mrs. Weasley stormed in like a hurricane. “We thought… Merlin, Harry! We all thought that You-Know-Who had found a way in, that he had taken you! We checked the wards, went out to look-”

“Molly.” Sirius said, stopping her midway through her rant. His godfather didn’t look panicked in the least, instead looking like he was trying to conceal his amusement. “He's fine. Look at him, not a hair out of place. Harry just got bored and went out for a walk.”

“A walk?!” Molly Weasley furiously rounded on him. “That is what you say? Do you really think this is funny?!”

“Of course! It’s like I’m dealing with Prongs all over again!” Sirius grinned widely. “James did shit like this all the time, vanish for an afternoon and come back from shopping. He gave Fleamont a migraine the first couple times he did it.”

Harry let out an amused snort, all while quietly moving away from the two so as to not draw further attention to himself. The more his godfather spoke, the closer Ron’s Mother looked to exploding. Her face was as red as her hair as Sirius wound her up, and Harry was hardly the only one trying to get away in time.

He and the rest of the Weasley children moved together into the next room and sat down on the couch while the adults argued it out, watching as Arthur Weasley rushed in to calm his wife down.

“Great job, Harry!” Fred gave him a thumbs up.

“You’re causing them more trouble than us.” George grinned.

“We need to up our game.” Fred said to his twin.

“Quiet, both of you!” Hermione scowled. “We’re not supposed to leave, and Harry risked a lot by doing that!”

“Where did you even go, mate?” Ron asked.

“The Ministry.” He shrugged at their incredulous looks. “Had to get some things done, and I wanted to see what it was like there.”

The group took a moment to digest that fact, trying and failing to comprehend why he would willingly go into enemy territory. Hermione was the first to open her mouth to respond, but was cut off when a bird’s cry suddenly sounded out.

Two owls arrived in that moment, one swooping in and heading for Hermione while the other went to him. Harry had learned that certain owls throughout the country knew the location of Grimmauld Place, let in on the secret as a matter of convenience for the Order members stationed there.

It dropped a letter off in his lap before leaving, while Hermione’s owl gave her an identical letter, the Hogwarts crest emboldened on both envelopes.

He shrugged and broke the letter’s seal, opening it only for something metallic and heavy to fall out, falling onto the floor before he picked it up. It was a small red and gold shield shape, and he immediately recognized it as a prefect badge.

Just like that, the chaotic events of that morning were forgotten, as everyone looked over with renewed interest.

“Harry?” Hermione asked faintly from a seat over, her own letter open as her face shifted through a multitude of surprised expressions. More noticeable than that, however, was the fact she was holding an identical badge to his own.

"You too?" He asked.

"I…" Hermione looked down at the badge in her hand, then back up, something bright and slightly disbelieving in her expression. "Yes. Prefect, I'm a prefect."

"Prefect?" Ron repeated from across the room, his gaze alternating between them both. A weird frown had settled on his face, and for a moment he almost looked embarrassed before he forced a small smile. "Blimey... Uh, Congratulations, both of you."

"Well, of course Hermione got made prefect." Fred grinned. “Straight O's since first year, never broken a rule, hardly surprising that.”

“Not to mention Harry won the Triwizard Tournament.” George continued in the same tone.

"That's not necessarily why." Hermione’s face flushed.

It was weird in that Harry didn’t expect this to happen. In fact, he was so caught off-guard that he sat still in place, trying to digest it all. Overall, he knew it wasn’t that big of a deal to be made prefect, as it was the equivalent of being a muggle hall monitor. Comparatively, he had already achieved much bigger things in life, yet for some reason he felt oddly happy about this.

But beyond the initial surprise, there was the matter of being made Prefect itself, something that wouldn’t have happened without Dumbledore’s express support. It was further proof that the Headmaster was on his side, and that the man trusted Harry with this duty.

"Congratulations." Sirius smirked Harry’s way, walking over to him. "Both of you. And Harry, your dad would've found it funny, and been very proud. As for your Mother, she’d be over the moon with happiness, as she was a prefect before becoming Head Girl."

"High bar to clear then." He joked.

"You cleared several higher ones already, so don’t sweat it." Sirius said with a certain inflection, suggesting that he wasn't only talking about the badge.

/////

The hour was late, as daylight no longer poured in through the windows to light up the library, meaning he had to rely on candlelight to see. Not that it bothered Harry, as he had spent a lot of time reading under insufficient light late into the evenings back at the Dursleys.

The Black Family Library within Grimmauld Place was a metaphorical goldmine for someone like him, and he was still in disbelief that all of this knowledge would one day belong to him. He was the Black family heir, as per Sirius’s designation, meaning he would one day fully control one of the largest and most sought-after libraries in Britain.

The table he currently sat at was overflowing with books, some volumes half-opened while others were stacked on top of each other. He had greedily read through volume after volume, sometimes casting one aside as a new title caught his interest.

But the time for reading and memorizing new spells had eventually come to an end, the scratch of a quill filling the room as he finished writing the third letter of that evening.

This should be good enough. He proofread the letter which was addressed to a more dangerous individual, meaning its contents had to be perfectly worded else he risk unforeseen consequences. Hopefully this conveys enough blackmail and amenability to get her attention.

Just as he was about to fold it up and seal it before handing the letter over to Hedwig, the library’s door suddenly cracked open. In walked the most predictable person in Grimmauld Place who would visit the library in the middle of the night.

For his part, he wasn’t surprised to see her, but Hermione definitely was. “Harry?”

“Hermione, good evening.”

“What are you doing here?” She looked around, immediately noticing the stacks of used books on his table. “Are you preparing for your trial?”

Do these look like books on law? He nearly snarked, as any scrutiny would reveal the books in front of him to be of the dark, spellcasting variety. If anything, reading these books would get me in trouble with the law.

“Do you want to know a secret?” He asked instead, making Hermione stiffen as she leaned forward in interest.

“W-What is it?” Her voice came out uncertain, and it might’ve been a trick of the light but he could swear she was blushing.

“There won’t be a trial.”

“There won’t?” She looked at him as if he’d gone barmy. “What do you mean?”

“When I left this morning, I went to the Ministry and talked to some important people.” He said. “I showed them the letter I got, and they’re actively looking to arrest whoever sent the Dementors after me.”

The brunette witch blinked, thinking that revelation over. “Who did you talk to who could do that?”

“Madam Bones.” She didn’t know the name, so he elaborated. “She’s Director of Law Enforcement for the Ministry, and was quite interested in the circumstances surrounding my impending trial.”

“Why…” Hermione wet her lips, looking confused. “Why didn’t anyone in the Order do that?”

“Apparently, the woman isn’t fond of the Order.” He shrugged. “It actually took some energy to convince her to help, and it wasn’t easy.”

“Oh, I see.” She replied, and after a long moment he looked up to see her staring at him oddly.

“What is it?”

“Nothing!” The brunette squeaked, and quickly looked away while pushing a stray hair behind her ear. “…I’m just not used to seeing you like this. You’ve really changed over the summer, Harry.”

“I have.” He agreed, and she looked at him in surprise for that admission. “I’ve decided to do things differently, Hermione, and I’m not the same as you remember. To be honest, you might not want to be around me anymore because of how much I’ve changed.”

“That’s not true!” She exclaimed with a fervor that shocked even him. “I wouldn’t abandon you for anything!”

She stared at him, doing so with an intensity that made him actually believe her. It seemed that the Gryffindor bookworm hadn’t just changed in terms of her beauty this summer, but also in mindset.

He gave her a small smile in response. “Thank you, Hermione.”

Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18