Power Plays Chapter 70 (Patreon)

Few people showed loyalty the way that Eloise did. Ever since he rescued her brother, Mathis, she had done her utmost to make him feel welcome whenever he visited her restaurant. She refused to tolerate any criticism of him within earshot, and she’d even thrown out guests who were blathering on too much about whatever lies or conspiracies were swirling around him at the time. Even now, she stayed true to her word and kept him safe without anyone being the wiser that he was still alive right in the heart of Diagon Alley.

It took a few days before his body recovered. Eloise had gone out and procured several potions for him to help his recovery process, but even magic couldn’t completely replenish someone without a great deal of bed rest.

Harry thought about sending Daphne a letter or even calling Hobsy to come see him just so that he could let her know that he was still alive, but all of that carried too much risk. Anyone could happen to be around while the letter was delivered or overhear Hobsy informing Daphne of his survival. But more likely was the fact that those most thrilled about his supposed demise would notice a sudden change in Daphne’s demeanour. As good of an actress as she could be to disguise her emotions, it would be impossible for anyone to mask the relief of finding out that their partner was still alive after believing them dead for several days.

So, he waited and allowed his body to recover. The damage from the explosions and the splinching was painful but not life threatening. By the day of his funeral, Harry felt as close to top shape as he could, given the circumstances.

He didn’t tell Eloise that he was leaving—she’d know to keep things under wraps until he told her otherwise. It took nearly an hour in front of the mirror to get his disguise charms on right. He made his facial structure appear quite different from how it naturally did, giving him a much more angular look, and made his hair grow long and turn into a gentle brown. All of his clothes changed too, shifting their designs and fit slightly to make his frame seem different than usual. His eyes were the last trick. His natural emerald green was too striking, so he shifted for a gentle blue that almost perfectly matched Daphne’s. He hoped that she would notice him.

Diagon Alley was bustling as he exited through the back of Eloise’s restaurant. Hundreds of shoppers were manoeuvring their way through the tight crowds, and not one of them noticed anything amiss with Harry. He easily made his way to the apparation point and waited in the queue there before it was his turn.

Smoothly, he apparated straight into the Ministry of Magic Atrium.

Suddenly, the buzz of Diagon Alley vanished and was replaced by the most profound silence that Harry had heard at the Ministry since the very first anniversary of the end of the war. There were only the sounds of shuffling feet, quiet murmurs, and the occasional question being posed by a Ministry employee to people in the queue to go pay their final respects to Harry Potter.

In more ways than one, it was heartwarming to see such solemness over his death. The common people around him truly looked saddened at his passing. He knew that some were putting on an act—attending the state funeral of Harry Potter was merely a checklist activity to brag about for years to come—but they did well to keep themselves under control.

Everyone was having their wands checked if they wanted to pass through. Harry could see Gabrielle in the distance directing traffic and overseeing the work of several other Aurors. She had a grim expression on her face and just the barest hint of tears forming in her eyes, but she was still working dutifully.

She was another person that Harry would have to apologise to after this mess.

As organised and clear as the queue was, Harry knew that there were always bound to be gaps in security. The desk where wands were checked was far too out in the open for him to be able to do much, but there were other ways to get around the problem. The question was how smoothly Harry wanted things to go.

In the end, the simplest way forward was going to be with magic.

Although his Aurors were on high alert for any potential tampering with the funeral or any other criminal activity, it was also clear as to just how many of them were impacted by his passing. Some weren’t keeping as close a watch on things as they ought to have.

Ainsley, a young man with bright dreams to rise through the ranks of the Aurors, was looking particularly distraught. Harry didn’t fault him for feeling that way on the job—Gabrielle or Tonks should’ve pulled him from duty. He felt a little bad about doing this, but the moment Harry felt like none of the Aurors had their eyes on him, he very subtly cast a Switching Spell, swapping his wand with Ainsley’s.

When Harry got to the front of the queue, he handed Ainsley’s wand over casually. The man behind the desk placed it upon the brass scales and waited as it vibrated. A moment later, a slip of paper shot out of the base of the scales.

“Twelve inches, dragon-heartstring core, laurel, been used for ten years. Is that correct?” The man asked.

“Yes,” Harry lied smoothly.

“Lots of people with replacement wands coming through today,” the man commented as he handed the wand back. “I could never imagine using a different one than the first and only one I’d gotten back at Ollivanders.”

Harry just shrugged, not wanting to speak more than necessary.

“Next,” the man called out as he impaled the tiny slip of paper onto a spike.

As soon as Harry walked past the two Aurors guarding the pathway forward to the lifts, he glanced back and swapped his wand back with Ainsley’s, and no one was any the wiser.

They were taken down the lift in batches and ushered into a large corridor where they had to wait and watch as countless Ministry officials passed by first. It was a tedious process, and Harry just felt all the more anxious to finally be able to see Daphne again.

After what felt like an eternity, an Auror opened the door at the end of the corridor and invited everyone to walk forward in a calm manner. The queue got moving at once, and everyone streamed through a couple sets of doors before finally reaching the last set of them. Tonks was stood there, her face filled with sadness and an utter resolve to keep things under control just for today. She wore a pin on her lapel that designated her as the Head Auror. He was glad that Amelia didn’t try to supplant her in any way.

Through the sea of people in front of him, it took a while before Harry actually saw Daphne standing up ahead. He’d thought that she’d be waiting inside of the ballroom for the funeral with all of the other guests, but apparently she decided to greet them all in turn as they came through. It was a smart political decision, but he knew that in her heart of hearts, Daphne wouldn’t want to be here doing this. She was red eyed and utterly broken. Even her calm, thankful expression couldn’t hide the dire sadness within her soul from Harry. He’d never seen Daphne look that way before, and he never hoped to see it again.

He knew that his actions were impulsive, but he couldn’t let her go on with the belief that he was dead. Even as he shuffled forward in the line, everything in his body dared him to burst forth and engulf her in his arms. He’d have to do the next best thing.

Harry dropped the spell that changed his eyes.

While he was acutely aware of the people around him who might spot out this change, what really mattered was that Daphne saw it. Everyone, throughout his life, had commented on just how distinctive his eyes were. If anyone were to recognise them at a mere glance, it was Daphne. But he still had to be aware of Tonks and his other Aurors who might notice him.

He kept his eyes his natural emerald green until Daphne finally stared back at him. He tried to pour out all of his apologies into his gaze as she stared back at him. The moment seemed to last a lifetime, but then she blinked and glanced away. Instinctively, Harry reapplied the charm changing his eye colour just a second before Daphne looked back at him.

He hoped that it was enough, but he feared that it wasn’t.

The line moved smoothly, and within a couple of minutes, Harry found himself at the front. His blue eyes met Daphne’s, but she saw no recognition in them. Even Delphini at her side didn’t notice anything familiar about him.

Swallowing back his desire to reveal his identity, Harry moved past them and hurried ahead to find a spot where he could easily see her. A bit past the halfway point in the hall, Harry found a few empty seats near the aisle. He took the closest one to the aisle and ignored the whinging comments from the elderly man and woman who had to shuffle past him into the next couple of seats over.

Although he’d genuinely been interested in experiencing what his funeral would be like, after seeing Daphne so utterly heartbroken, it was impossible for his mind to really focus on the matter. People chattered quietly around him, but he tuned it all out. A deep emptiness in the pit of his stomach gnawed at him.

Once the last guest entered, the doors were closed for a few minutes. Everyone suddenly became quite interested as to where Daphne and Delphini were, Harry more so than anyone else. Eventually though, the doors opened, and the two of them stepped through.

As they walked down the centre aisle, Harry’s eyes couldn’t leave hers. He knew that he was being even more foolish than before to risk this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Love outweighed duty.

When Daphne’s eyes were on his, he cancelled the charm concealing his true eye colour just long enough to see her eyes widen. Then, he reapplied the charm.

Wordlessly, Daphne and Delphini passed by him, but he felt Daphne’s entire focus on his being. She glanced back at him only once she’d reached the front and found her seat.

She knew he was alive! He was absolutely certain of this, and it made his heart soar. The pit in his belly was suddenly filled with bubbles of pure giddiness and relief.

The funeral passed by in a blur. Kingsley, as he was still the current Minister for Magic until the election took place, handled the majority of the speaking roles. It did hurt when the whole Weasley family and Hermione came up on stage to speak, but he knew that they would understand his reasoning once this was all over. Or… he hoped they would.

Daphne, naturally, spoke as well. Her speech was much shorter than he’d expected, and she spent the entire time avoiding his gaze completely. He figured that she was just trying to get through this so that she could speak with him after.

Speaking of which, Harry had a plan for that. It meant going against his initial plan to remain completely dead a bit more, but he couldn’t simply wait to see Daphne again.

Come the end of the funeral, there was a standing ovation for Harry’s achievements, and then everyone was instructed to leave so that the family might have a private moment alone.

Harry took his time leaving, and once he did, he lingered just past the doorway out. Tonks was leading several Aurors to help corral all of the guests out of the ballroom and back up to the atrium, but the sheer number of people thankfully made the process slow going. He kept glancing back into the ballroom and was relieved when he finally saw someone coming his way. He shuffled back in the queue, excusing himself as he slid his back along the wall to get right up to the door.

“Tonks? Daphne wanted to ask if you’d be coming in with us,” Draco called out over the noise of the crowd.

From further down, Tonks called back. “I have to watch over things in the atrium,” she replied regretfully.

Draco nodded and turned to leave, but Harry suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist. Draco jerked back in surprise, but Harry kept his grip firm.

“I’m so terribly sorry for your loss,” Harry told Draco.

“Yes, well, thank—”

Harry dropped the enchantment on his eyes long enough for recognition to shoot across Draco’s face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Harry cut him off sharply.

“Le Bistrognome,” Harry told him. “Tell Daphne to come disguised and to ask Eloise about renting the upstairs flat.”

He didn’t give Draco a chance to reply before he disappeared back into the crowd. Even saying those few words may have been too much.

Merlin, he was being foolish, but his heart needed this.

By the time he managed to return to Le Bistrognome, it was nearing supper time. He maintained his disguise as he entered the restaurant. An older couple were seated outside, but the interior of the restaurant remained thankfully empty barring a single server and Eloise working away in the kitchen.

“I’m here to see Eloise,” Harry said to the server before they could intercept him.

He sidestepped around them and found Eloise working away in the kitchen. She looked suspiciously at him as he entered into her domain.

“Yes?” She asked, crossing her arms under her chest.

“I’ll be upstairs,” Harry told her, using his natural voice. Eloise recognised it instantly. “If a woman comes in here asking about renting the upstairs flat, please send her up to me.”

“Understood,” Eloise replied with a slight smile. “If it’s who I think it is, I’ll give her a warning that there’d better not be any property damage after she’s through with you.”

Harry chuckled quietly. “Thanks.”

The room he’d spent the past few days in was sparse. A cot, a table barely large enough to fit a couple of plates on, a rickety wooden chair, and a perpetually-fogged window that stared directly at the next building over were all that was in there, but Harry didn’t need anything more. If all went well, he wouldn’t need to be here for very long.

He sat on the cot and waited for what felt like, and probably was, over an hour before he heard the staircase creak. He stood up suddenly and tried to make his robes look as presentable as he could.

Then, an unfamiliar woman appeared at the top of the staircase. She looked around frantically before locking eyes with Harry. He dropped the charm on his eyes, and she sprinted into his arms.

Laughing out of sheer relief, Harry wandlessly dispelled the charms they had masking their appearances. Daphne’s blond hair suddenly covered his entire face as she clung to him for dear life.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered into his ear. Hot tears stained his neck.

“I’d never leave you alone,” Harry promised her. He pulled back to drink in her face for just a moment before he closed the gap and kissed her sweetly. Daphne returned the kiss with just as much love and care, and for a moment, nothing existed in the world except for the two of them.

When they finally separated, Harry was truly able to see the exhaustion that the past few days had left upon Daphne.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, gently pulling her down to sit on the cot next to him. “I didn’t exactly plan to fake my own death. It just sort of happened.”

Daphne snorted quietly and wiped her eyes clean. “Sounds like one of your old Hogwarts stories. Have you been here all this time? What happened with Nerys?”

“Eloise helped me to recover,” Harry told her as he began relaying everything that’d happened back to her. “Nerys blew herself up trying to take me out with her. But that doesn’t matter. Rhys and a couple of his cronies showed up right after while I was caught under some debris. He talked about putting things back the way they should be and dealing with the Ministry once and for all. I have no clue what he has in mind, but he sent his accomplices to Nott Manor while he went back to the Ministry.”

“I guess that means that we were right that he was busy working on something else while the election took place,” Daphne replied. She let out a deep breath. “What are you going to do, Harry? Why are you even still pretending to be dead?”

“Because there isn’t much I can do as Head Auror,” he admitted regretfully. “Between Amelia watching over my every move like a hawk and the Wizengamot still interfering in everything I do, I won’t be able to figure out what Rhys is up to and put a stop to it. This is the only way I can have some freedom. And besides, Rhys won’t see me coming like this. Once he’s dealt with, I’ll be able to reveal myself.”

“But then Amelia and the Wizengamot will come after you for what you’ve done,” Daphne pointed out.

“I know,” Harry grinned. “I think I might have a fair shot of being acquitted if the Wizengamot takes me to trial over this, but if you win the election, you could always offer me amnesty.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a Minister has done that,” Daphne said, nodding along. “This could actually work, but I still have to win the election. I’ll have to avoid playing the widow card because people will always suspect me of knowing the truth of your survival if I win.”

“Stick to your own strengths and rally the people around you,” Harry said. “With my funeral done and over with, it won’t be long before the first debate begins. Show the people that you’ll lead Britain into a brighter future, and I’ll make sure that there’s still a future for you to lead.”