Burning Day
Approaching Thunder
By Kinsfire
Disclaimer: As I'm sure you're aware by now, none of the Harry Potter characters belong to me. Instead, they are the property of JK Rowling, and her lawyers would jump up and down on my spleen if I were to attempt to lay claim to anything of her world. I like my spleen the way it is, thank you very much.
Note: I haven't forgotten the goblin I mentioned in an earlier note, by the way. I just haven't had a chance to introduce him yet.
Also, I forgot to give credit to The-Caitiff (look for him on fanfiction.net) for the Harry James Potter anagrams of "Jerry 'A-Hater' Stomp" and "Mr Troy, a phaser jet". Those come from his excellent fic "At the Hands of the Other" (http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3036211/1/) - go read it, it's fun!
Final Note before chapter starts: A couple people commented on Hermione fathering a child with Pansy and blinked at it. It was not a typo. The method? Hermione strikes me as one of those people who would likely explode if she weren't learning things, and having a problem to solve is relaxing for her. (That's how I see her.) I won't describe it, although I basically said in the chapter what the method was. If you're really curious — there's an entire sub-genre of anime and manga involving this. Do a web search on the word 'futanari' and be prepared for some Not Safe For Work links. While not a big fan of it, I am aware of it, and it struck me that in a world where magic works the way it does in the HP-verse, someone might well develop the spells for allowing futanari to exist. (You'll understand if you do the search.)
They reappeared in England, laughing. "My God, that man is a charmer!" Hermione said with a blush. "I'll bet he could still charm the knickers off a woman."
Harry's eyes sparkled. "Given a chance, you'd be in line, wouldn't you?" She blinked at him, slightly worried until she felt the link. He was amused. "You forget sometimes that we all can feel what the others do, love. He wouldn't have to work that hard, would he?"
She blushed even more deeply than before. "If I was going to cheat on you, I'd be helping him take them off."
He kissed her softly and laughed. "I know — I could feel your arousal." He turned and walked to the Floo. "I need to talk to a few people, so I'll be back later. Stay safe." He disappeared from the room, but quickly popped his head back in. "Think on this, Hermione: perhaps you might want to teach him something about women's liberation?" he said with a wide smirk before disappearing once more.
"Did he just give me permission to seduce Benjamin Franklin?" she asked.
Harry appeared at Gringott's secure entrance and headed for Ragnok's office. "How go things, Ragnok?"
"They go, Harry; they go. We are currently in discussion with the Ministry, which seems ill inclined to permit the reciprocity we think is fair. We have closed the bank to the general public, who are beginning to grumble at our insistence of fair treatment."
"That doesn't surprise me," Harry replied. "Unfortunately, I expect this to rise to bloodshed level soon. How goes the purchase of the Daily Prophet?"
"Not at all," Ragnok replied. "Someone realised what was happening and warned the Ministry. The Prophet is officially the newspaper of wizarding England, wholely owned and operated by the Ministry."
Harry grinned. "Excellent. That positions me perfectly to turn the Quibbler into the voice of the resistance after we move him to a safe location. Lorelei needs her grandpa to stay safe."
After a momentary pause, he asked, "Do your people have any connections with the Muggle side of the British government? I mean, do you guys run Barclays or something? I'm realising that I need to speak with people fairly high up to warn them what's coming, especially since I'm about to tear down the wall between the worlds."
Ragnok thought for a moment. "We have a surprising percentage of the ownership of several international banks, Barclays included." He chuckled. "I'm going to let you in on a small secret. DeBeers, the South African diamond people? Wholly owned by goblins."
"Okay," Harry mused in shock. "So you've got money you can bring to bear, and aren't exactly hurting if you lose the wizard business for a while."
"Exactly. Let me contact you later in regards to meeting someone in the British government. It will require contacting someone who will contact someone else, if you understand me."
"Perfectly. It happens when it happens. Just ... stress that we're on a timetable of sorts. As much as the War of Insurrection lasted years, I don't think we can really hold out that long. Neither side can really hold out that long."
"We run the risk of a very bloody war if we work too fast, you realise," Ragnok said.
"It's a fine line we're trying to walk, and I don't know how to walk it. The fight with Riddle was a playground tussle compared to what we're trying to do. Honestly, he'd have left the government largely alone, since he'd have been able to control the people in those positions most important to the running of the government. The average wizard or witch doesn't really give a damn who's in charge as long as it doesn't disrupt their day to day life. What we're talking about here is changing things for them as well, which is where the Quibbler will come into things, pointing out how the Ministry not only can, but has done things that might affect them. We'll just have to list them for the people."
He shook his head. "Damn, I sound like I'm campaigning for an office or something."
"You may well be running things when you are done, Harry," Ragnok said.
"I don't want to run a government. I want to cavort naked with my incredibly sexy wives on my hidden island and make as many children with them as they're willing to bear for me." He delivered the line with a small whine to his voice, but there was a twinkle to his eyes.
Ragnok raised an eyebrow. "You could make the law so that the group of you could cavort naked in Diagon Alley," he said, his own eyes twinkling.
"Wouldn't that be a kcker?" Harry asked. "Wouldn't be fair to the ladies, though, and I don't need hate mail because I'm proving that I married the four sexiest women in all Europe."
"Your marriage will last a long time, Harry," Ragnok replied with a laugh. "I will contact you as soon as I have some word for you."
It was only two days later that Harry received a call from Ragnok. "My connections managed to get you a meeting with someone who has the ear of both the Muggle Royal Family and the Prime Minister. If you can convince him of your cause, he will likely manage to get you meetings with both the Prime Minister and the Queen."
Harry blew air out of his cheeks in surprise, in an effort to give him a moment or two to think. "Okay. When is this meeting, and what should I wear?"
"The meeting is tomorrow at 11 am, and you should wear a Muggle business suit." He also told him exactly where the meeting was to take place.
The next morning, Harry was in an Armani suit and Ferragamo shoes awaiting the arrival of his contact. He waited nervously, realising that somewhere along the line, he had become quite a bit more used to wizarding wear than to most Muggle clothing.
"Mr Potter, I presume?" asked a cultured voice from behind him. Harry turned to face a fairly nondescript man, one he knew he'd have a devil of a time trying to describe to anyone. "Call me Adam Smythe."
"Mr Smythe, I'm pleased to meet you. I hope that our meeting is satisfactory for both of us."
Smythe nodded and led Harry into the building. Harry could never quite describe the route he took to the meeting room, but he was fairly certain that it had been chosen for reasons of making it more difficult to escape. "Shall we begin? I was approached by some associates of mine who felt that a meeting between yourself and certain individuals within the British government would be a good idea. To be honest, your job is now to convince me."
"Fair enough. Let me get straight to the point then. What do you know about magic?" Harry asked.
Smythe raised an eyebrow and then rose to his feet in disgust. "My contact will be hearing from me about setting up meetings with the insane. I do not appreciate pranks. Good day, sir."
"Good day, Mr Smythe. Remember this meeting when you begin to hear odd reports from around the British Isles of things that you can't explain. Perhaps I can get my associates to find someone less closed minded." With that, he Apparated from the room back to Potter Manor, intentionally making the jump loud.
About twenty minutes later, while he was in the process of blowing off steam (and blowing things up), Ragnok arrived. "Good day, Harry."
"Hello, Ragnok. I apologise for not contacting you sooner, but I was attempting to calm myself to a point where I would not accidentally offend you. I thank you for your efforts, but I think you may need to talk to your contacts again, and see if they can find someone else that I can speak with. Prefereably someone with an open mind, rather than the Mr Smythe that was sent to meet me."
"Mr Smythe actually sends his apologies and wishes to meet with you again. You surprised him when you left, because that room was supposed to be secure from Portkey and Apparation. He was attempting to throw you off-guard in order to learn more from you, which is a time-honoured tactic. You proved the ancient adage, however — 'Your opponent will always surprise you.'"
"We're meeting in a place of my choice, then," Harry said. "How about managing a meeting at one of the Muggle Banks you own major interest in?"
"Barclays should do quite well, I believe," Ragnok said with a smile. "Tomorrow at the same time?"
"Yes. Same suit, too. I refuse to use a different suit since I only wore that one for about thirty minutes today."
The next day led to Harry waiting in a Barclays board room for his meeting. Adam Smythe entered the room, looking properly shame-faced. "So much for trying to talk to you from a position of strength," he said. "I apologise."
"Trying to talk from a position of strength tends to make me think that you see me as an enemy. That's not what I'm after, and if you see me as an enemy, then the inevitable revolution within the wizarding world is going to cause no end of problems to you." Harry's attitude was sharp and implacable.
"Revolution?" Smythe asked. "Are you sure it's inevitable?"
"Yes. It's already begun. Part of the reason for trying to meet with someone in the Muggle government is to attempt to mitigate as much of the problem as possible, but you lead me to believe that we are unfortunately going to be fighting a war on two fronts — our own Ministry, and the Muggle government." He scowled. "Are my wife's parents the only Muggles not hostile to wizards? Every other example I seem to have gotten shows me that the only difference in the last four hundred years is that you now have more interesting and painful methods of killing wizards and witches."
"Oh Christ," Smythe muttered from the other side of the table. "I have really bollixed this one." Unaware that Harry had heard him, he said, "I'm not sure how I can convince you that the problem we're having right now is purely of my making. I don't want you thinking that the Prime Minister or the Queen is planning on harming you and yours."
Harry looked at the squirming man at the other end of the table for a moment before relaxing. "Not fun being on the receiving end, especially in a diplomatic situation, is it?"
Smythe looked at Harry for a long moment and then nodded, a wry smile on his face. "You seem to understand enough of the game to get by," he said.
"I've been forced to learn. Seriously, for all intents and purposes, this is a diplomatic mission for me. We are in the process of overthrowing the current Ministry, because they have gotten unbelievably corrupt, in our opinion. Bagnold, some twenty-odd years ago, was throwing people into Azkaban without trials, because the surface evidence seemed to show that they were guilty. Sirius Black was one such individual hurt in this manner."
"You have proof that he wasn't the mass murderer?" Smythe asked.
"Yes. I met the person he supposedly killed. That person was the one responsible for my parents' death, later Cedric Diggory's death, and the return of Voldemort to a physical body. I can personally vouch for my godfather's innocence, considering I met the man he supposedly murdered." Harry snorted. "And they still haven't rescinded Pettigrew's Order of Merlin."
"That's off the point, though. Bagnold's successor, Cornelius Fudge was really no better. He listened to the wrong people, such as a very rich man who was able to bribe his way to an innocent verdict. I was there when a man was arrested and thrown in prison, not because he was guilty, but 'because we have to be seen to be doing something'. It was found later that the man in question had been framed by Voldemort fifty years earlier, which is why he was the easy choice to throw in prison again."
"When Sirius escaped prison, Fudge was going to have him Kissed by a Dementor — again with no trial. When the Tri-Wizard Tournament happened and Voldemort came back at the end of it, both Fudge and his closest advisor, Dolores Umbridge spent a year doing everything they could to destroy my reputation until the point that Fudge saw Voldemort with his own eyes, on the same day that my godfather died duelling one of Riddle's 'Death Eaters'."
"I watched Fudge's actions. He didn't vote or rule in a manner that was best for the people, it was always what was best for Cornelius Fudge and his continued presence in the job. And his second in command seemed to work best in dealing with problems that she considered could cause problems with her boss."
"With Ministry permission, she came into Hogwarts and ended up taking over. She was known to torture students. She did patently illegal things, and never paid for any of them until quite recently, simply because see could slide, being a Ministry employee."
"They went so far as to kidnap my daughter about a short time ago, just to get me to come back to England and fight a new Dark Lord they were hiding from the public. Again, rather than teach people that the best way to stop a Dark Lord is to nip them in the bud immediately, they hid it and hoped they could force someone else to do their dirty work for them. They went so far as to make me think that this new Dark Lord had cut off my daughter's finger."
"Are you sure that it was the Ministry that did this?" Smythe asked, horrified at what he was hearing.
"I'll never know if Fudge had anything to do with it, since he's dead, but his successor had the plan going before Fudge was killed. And Dolores Umbridge hated me for escaping her grasp and making good later on, becoming a hero to the people. When she got into the job, every single one of her law-making attempts was aimed either at curtailing the rights of people she considered to be less than her or specifically aiming an edict at me."
"And now we have Rufus Scrimgeour in office, who basically is working quite hard at keeping the job. Umbridge wanted access to the goblin run bank — Gringott's — and forced through an edict demanding access to all their accounting records. This is tantamount to calling them liars. Wars are fought over this type of an insult. He is trying to keep the wizarding world running exactly as it always has. Who knows — he might have been a wonderful choice for Minister if we'd gotten him while Voldemort was still around, but he's no good now. People are still being oppressed by the fact that there are laws penalising them for things that they have no control over, such as being a goblin or a werewolf. The centaurs don't even deal with humans because of the way that they've been treated over the years, and that needs to change."
Harry stopped and blushed. "Sorry. I get a little carried away when it's something that means something to me. The wizarding world was the first place I really felt at home after growing up with the Dursleys."
Smythe blinked. "Dursley, Dursley, why does that name sound familiar? Wait, was there a son named Dudley?"
"Parents Vernon and Petunia?" Harry asked. When Smythe nodded, he asked, "So what did they do to catch your eye?"
"Tried to hide the fact that their son was a mule for a multi-million pound drug operation. Dudley's spending many many years in prison, while the parents are scraping by on what they can. Vernon Dursley lost his job, apparently, when his company apparently thought he wasn't quite what they were looking for — bad image and all that."
Harry grinned. "So I didn't have to pull the fact that I own majority stock in Grunnings out to influence him. They say that karma is a wheel, and it sounds like it rolled right over them."
"Interesting phrasing. To get back to the reason for our meeting, I take it you want to warn us — I think you call us Muggles — that some weird stuff is about to happen?"
Harry nodded. "It's more than that, though. I had a chance to meet with an American the other day — you wouldn't believe me if I told you who — and he made me realise just what they'd managed to do by making the Mundanes, I think they call them, aware of the existence of the magical world. They don't go screaming it from the rooftops, but they don't exactly hide, either. By doing it that way, they have advancements in magic that we haven't even thought of yet. So I want to drop the wall between wizard and non-wizard. Try to set it up similar to them. Yeah, there will be some interface problems in the beginning, but that will change within a generation."
He shook his head. "The problem is that there is likely to be some bloodshed, and I don't want that. But the current administration won't go down without a fight, damn it. We have to tear down the old Ministry and build it again from the ground up."
"I don't envy your fight, and I see why you needed to speak with us. Can you get us some proof of some of these things you say?"
"Some of them are purely my memories, with no real proof that would hold up in your courts of law, although they have in ours. We have devices that can store a copy of a memory, and others can go in and look at the memory. But that wouldn't hold up in your courts."
"It doesn't need to hold up in court — it just needs to be viewable by the people I need to speak to."
Harry nodded. "I'll see what I can do. Give me a few days."
Smythe nodded in return. "Have your people contact mine when you've got the information, and we'll meet again."
Both men stood as they realised that the meeting was at an end. "Thank you, by the way, for even provisionally forgiving me my idiocy from yesterday," Smythe said. "Sometimes your efforts work, and sometimes they blow up in your face." He grinned at Harry for a moment. "I can at least tell my superiors that they should trust my instincts a little more. You did manage to surprise me when you managed to get out of that room."
"I'm a bit stronger than most people you'll ever have in that room, especially since I could draw on my wives as well, if I absolutely have to."
Smythe raised an eyebrow. "Wives? How's that working for you?"
"Wonderfully, and not for the reason that most people would think. They ground me, and each other. We're a real team, and -" Harry stopped, just smiling broadly.
"Say no more," Smythe said with a laugh. "It's obvious that you love them just from that goofy grin on your face." He walked to Harry and offered his hand, and the two shook, the meeting ending on a much friendlier note than the one on which it had started.
Harry was awoken the next morning by someone landing on his chest. Luckily, it was not feet first — it was a full body hug attack from Lorelei. "Morning Daddy!" she said brightly.
"Good morning, beautiful," he said, kissing her forehead as they hugged. "You haven't done that in a little while."
"I just wanted to, especially after that woman took me for a while." She scowled. "Is there something wrong with my hands, Daddy? She kept scowling at me and saying something about abom .. adom ... it was a long word, and it didn't sound good. She kept staring at my hands for such a long time, and scowling, and muttering something that I couldn't hear, except for the occasional word that I probably shouldn't repeat if I don't want soap in my mouth."
He sat up and took her into his arms, the sheet sliding down to his waist as he did. "There is nothing wrong with you, Lorelei, with your pretty little hands, or with anything else. That woman ... I guess you could say that she's sick. She's had such a strong dislike of me for so many years, and unfortunately one of my beautiful baby girls got caught in the middle of the problem."
"You still love me?" she asked in a small voice.
Harry quashed the urge to kill that rose suddenly. He wanted to go to Azkaban and peel Dolores Umbridge's skin from her body for making his child think what she was thinking at the moment.
He hid the feeling well as he held her tightly. "Ask your mommies someday what my reaction was when she told me that she was pregnant with you. It was a surprise, but ... I knelt down on the floor in front of her and kissed her tummy, welcoming you. I grew happier every single day knowing that you were coming, and that feeling has never changed. I am so happy that you and your sisters and brothers are in my life, and I always will be. I will always love you. I will always love all of you." He rocked slightly as he spoke, holding the little girl that had been the impetus for the change he was about to hit the wizarding world with. She sniffled once at the very beginning of his short monologue, but settled happily against his chest as he held her and spoke his feelings. She actually began to purr slightly.
Finally, she had settled down enough, and she disengaged from his hug and exploded from the room, once again a happy little girl of almost five. He shook his head in amusement at the sudden change. Hermione walked into the room as the girl sped past her.
"We'll deal with Umbridge together if it comes to it," she said simply as she walked over to hug her husband as he finally climbed from the bed. "I've never doubted it, and I never will. You were meant to be a parent. You handled that perfectly."
"I just told her the truth. I told her the things I wanted to hear growing up with the Dursleys. The difference is that I love my children; they aren't a burden." He scowled slightly. "I'd best make sure that the other children know that I love them as well. I've been spending so much time worrying about Lorelei that Alex and the rest might think that I love her the most, and that isn't true."
"Dear, they know. They were scared for her when she was missing, and they did overhear some of what you were saying to her. Especially at the end." She kissed him again. "We all know how much you love us. We know that you would die for us, but we'd really rather you didn't, if you get our meaning."
His eyes twinkled. "Not even the 'little death', just for you four?"
She grinned and backed him against the wall. "That one you can do for us as long as you're able," she purred, getting the response she wanted.
"Trying for another one," he asked softly as he gripped her bum. "Or would you -"
"Are you going to suggest Franklin?" she asked, cocking her head.
"If you're both willing," he answered, kissing her neck. "I know that he at least warmed up your engine, if not fired it up completely."
"But -"
"Yes, you have a very nice one," he interrupted with a laugh before lifting the hand that bore the wedding ring. "As for your other worry? I know that you love me, Hermione. I can feel it every night as I go to sleep. By the logic you're using, I should be jealous every time you make love to one of our wives, because you're making love to someone other than me. Am I asking you to bear a child of his? No. I am however giving you permission to pursue it if the fancy strikes you, beloved. Does that answer your question, and can I get back to slowly working my way down this magnificent body with my tongue?"
"The kids could walk in on us -" she moaned as he matched actions to words.
"So what? They've walked in on us before. Remember six months ago on the beach, when Alexandria came across us while you were so delightfully bouncing atop me? All our kids are doing is getting a healthy respect for the fact that we love each other, and they're learning that nude doesn't mean wrong." He spun her gently until she was against the wall, and let loose a small flare of magic, sticking her gently to it.
She moaned loudly as she realised what he was doing, and the moaning became louder as his tongue teased her nipples. He sucked gently for a moment, wishing she was lactating again, because she seemed to enjoy nursing while making love.
Eventually his tongue left her nipples and slid down her body further, spending a few moments teasing her navel, causing her to make a noise that couldn't decide if it was a moan or a giggle and that shot straight to his groin. He responded by biting her very gently, drawing what was a definite moan from her. He continued downward until he reached his final destination, and since she was already panting, he attacked in earnest, his tongue maddening her with every flick
Finally she released a happy squeal that only stopped when she had to inhale, so he stood slowly as she panted, and just as she seemed to get herself under control, he slipped inside her, causing her to begin squealing again. His fingers teased and tortured her stiff nipples as he nibbled her neck, all the while thrusting slowly into the ecstatic woman. He seemed to have gotten a good response from Luna and Susan by doing this, so he once again gave new meaning to the phrase 'magic wand'. Hermione's joyous squeals actually went ultrasonic, as far as Harry could tell. She seemed to be squealing, but he could no longer hear her. He could definitely hear her heart pounding, though, since nibbling her neck put his ear against her shoulder.
Her arms and legs began to quiver, and he realised what it presaged, so he released the wall's hold on her. Her arms and legs went around him almost immediately, and she began to meet him, thrust for thrust, as she began to orgasm. He felt his own approach and let himself go, once again getting the feeling of endless release. He was both startled and amused to see Hermione begin to glow as he continued to orgasm into her, although both the emotions were rather muted by the powerful release. As he finally finished, he watched as the golden hue that she had been emitting slowly disapeared back into her skin.
"I've heard of a woman having a certain glow during and after sex, but that's the first time I've ever seen it be literal!" he was finally able to say some time later.
"I could feel it, Harry!" she panted. "Oh goddess, now I understand why Susan and Luna were so horny for the rest of the day after you did that to them. They talked like it was actual ..." she blushed, even after years of marriage, "actual come you were releasing into them, but I think that it was pure magic. I think you were literally filling us with your magic as you came. I could feel your love flowing throughout my every pore." She lowered her eyelashes at him. "Not to mention the intense arousal you were feeling."
"I was having an orgasm!" he laughed. "How much more aroused could I beïŸ"
She giggled as well. "I understand now, Harry. If, and I stress the word if, I decide to try to seduce Franklin, I won't worry now."
"Good," he said, kissing her deeply. "I trust you with my soul."
"I think you filled me with it a minute ago," she answered him, blushing furiously.
He received something of a surprise the next morning, when Smythe contacted him again. "Bring the proof, if you can, but I've managed to wrangle a meeting. How does today at noon sound to you?"
"If it helps us not end up in prison from being considered to be involved in an insurrection against the Crown, I'm all for it," Harry replied.
"Excellent. We should meet at Barclays again at about eleven, and I'll take us where we need to go."
Harry ran around quickly, gathering what he could for whomever he might be meeting. A short time later he was at Barclays with a small briefcase. Inside were a Pensieve and several bits of paper that might offer some sort of trail or proof of his statements.
Smythe arrived and immediately led him to a vehicle, and they were quickly headed out of London. Harry had never really seen much of the British Isles so he kept his eyes riveted on what he could see that might be of some interest. Nearly an hour later, they pulled up in front of a fairly nondescript building that Harry could immediately see was quite secure. He wasn't sure how he knew, since it was so terribly unassuming a building, but he knew that it would take a full military assault to get inside this place.
Smythe motioned him inside and let him through some of the doors before turning to face him again. "You've convinced me, but now you have to convince them. Good luck." Smythe opened the door and ushered Harry inside, closing the door without ever entering himself.
"We who are about to die ..." Harry murmured to himself nervously as he looked at the fairly empty room. There was a pane of mirrored glass across one end, a table and a comfortable looking chair. He nodded. Fairly high up, and apparently want plausible deniability. He scowled. "So much for the Pensieve," he said softly, "unless they have a wizard in there with them."
"Please sit down, Mr Potter," a voice said. It was distorted and deep, and Harry realised that there was no way of telling whether the speaker was male or female.
He sat down and looked expectantly at the glass. "Where do we go from here?" he asked softly.
"You try to convince us of the rightness of your cause. Why you should be allowed to take the reins of power in the wizarding world as opposed to leaving things as they are."
"I don't want the power. I just want to go back to my island and enjoy being married and raising children. The problem is, they'll someday go to the same school that I went to, and they'll fall victim to the same system that I did growing up."
"What happened to you that was so bad?"
He laughed. "I grew up with an abusive family that hated magic. That could have been avoided if the Minister at the time had been willing to give everyone trials, rather than assuming that because someone looked guilty, they were guilty. If Sirius Black had actually received a trial, I would have grown up in a much more loving environment."
"So you want to overthrow the order of things because you had a bad childhood?" the voice asked, and even through the distortion Harry could hear the disbelief and sarcasm.
Rather than shoot back in the manner that first struck him, he thought for a moment. "Maybe in a way you're right. I was a victim in that my godfather was wrongly imprisoned, causing me to sleep in a broom cupboard for ten years, since that's the only bedroom my 'family' thought I was worthy of. I went to school to face hero worship and ridicule due to a Ministry that didn't like some of what I was saying after my fourth year had ended. There are no libel laws in the wizarding world, so I can say anything I want to in print, and nothing legally can be done about it."
He started to rise, because he preferred to pace while thinking out loud, but changed his mind, since he didn't know who was in the hidden room. "In '81, Bagnold had tribunals set up to deal with the Death Eaters and suspected Death Eaters. My godfather was 'sentenced', if you can call it that, in one of those. No trial, just twelve years of prison. Fudge came into office and tossed an innocent man with a criminal record into prison for a time, because he had 'to been seen doing something'. No effort to find the culprit, just throw the guy with the criminal record back into jail. Mind you, we later discovered that the man had been framed, but I've never heard anyone offer to expunge the record and give him a chance to learn magic again." He shook his head. "Fudge was a royal nuisance to the people. More worried about his image than actually doing anything about the return of Voldemort. He and his second, although she wasn't at the time, Dolores Umbridge, spent my fifth year making the wizarding world hate me as an attention seeking psychotic, simply because they didn't want to believe that Voldemort was back. It took Voldie standing in the Ministry building before Fudge would admit it."
"Umbridge, on the other hand, literally took over Hogwarts. She tortured students if they disagreed with the Ministry line. In proof, I can show you the back of my hand. I have carved in it the words 'I must not tell lies'. The lies I was telling was that Voldemort had returned. Her punishment for becoming Hogwarts first Ministry appointed dictator and torturer was a promotion and a pay rise."
"I defeated Voldemort and left. Five years later, a new Dark Lord starts to rise. Do they tell the people to keep an eye out and see if he can be nipped in the bud early? No. They kidnap my daughter and convince me for a short time that this new Dark Lord has her and cut off a finger as proof." He paused. "Sorry, that was badly phrase. They made me believe that her finger had been cut off. It was not."
"They got me to England all right, but by the time I got here, Minister Fudge had been assassinated by the new Dark Lord, I assume in retaliation for hiding his existence. I never did understand the way that Malfoy thinks. Umbridge was now in charge, and as soon as I had dealt with the new Dark Lord, who was nothing to worry about in the slightest, by the way, she recognised the man and his money and tried to throw me on trial for damaging the reputation of a fine upstanding citizen. When we brought out proof that he had confessed in front of multiple witnesses, the case suddenly went away, and an Executive Order was passed negating my marriages and demanding that all 'illegitimate' children be brought to the Ministry to be given to 'proper' homes."
"It sounds interesting, but what proof do you have?"
"I brought a method of showing you my memories of the incidents in question, but unless there is some way to increase the ..." He frowned for a moment. "There are two modes for these Pensieves. One, you go into the memory yourself, but that is definitely right out for you, whomever you are, because you've no way of knowing whether or not you go into the memory physically or not. The other is to display it above the bowl, but that's too small to be seen from where you are, and you're back there for a reason — you don't want me to see your identities, and I understand and agree with that." He shrugged. "Honestly? Except for a handful of things regarding Dolores Umbridge, I've no physical proof at all of what I say."
"How would you treat the British government if you revolted from your current regime? I think you call us Muggles?"
"Right now, a skilled team can do almost anything they want to, since a good Obliviation squad can make you remember whatever they want you to. That's wrong. I personally think that we should try to open the doors between the two worlds — make them one. As for the Prime Minister and the Queen? I have my wand with me, and am willing to take an oath to defend them and the Muggle government with my very life. Such an oath is magically binding. If I swear something on my life and break that oath, it will kill me immediately. No questions asked. That's why an oath should be carefully phrased."
"But you would swear such an oath to protect the British Muggle government?" the voice asked.
"So you wish me to right now?" He pulled his wand and held it in salute. "I solemnly swear, at the cost of my own life, that I will -"
"Stop!" the voice yelled. "You have made your point. We will talk further shortly. You will be brought into another room, where you will meet us face to face."
Harry nodded, and waited for the door to open. A few minutes later it did, and Smythe smiled. "I guess you said the right things. Follow me."
He led Harry down a short hallway and to an ornate door. "You'll love this," he said with a grin as he opened the door.
He was facing the British Prime Minister and Queen Elizabeth.