Burning Day
Dynasty's End
By Kinsfire
Disclaimer: In an effort to waste words every chapter, I would like to point out, at the top of each chapter, that unless I say otherwise, none of this belongs to me, and instead belongs to someone who is likely the wealthiest woman in England — JK Rowling.
Maybe I can lay claim to the plot I'm using?
"You and Albus can share the dower cottage, if you'd like, or take rooms here in the manor," Harry said as they looked around the manor house. "Same for you, Ron and Daphne. In fact, if Albus and Sev take rooms in the manor, you two can take the dower house. It needs a married couple in it again." He smiled distantly for a moment.
"That was where your parents lived when ... well, when it happened, wasn't it?" Daphne asked.
"From what I've been told, that's where we were living when the Dark Tiddler struck. I've no real memories of the place, so it's not as if you're intruding on them. That's also a house for a small number of people, so moving the five adults and all our children in there would likely make the place explode. The manor house works quite well for us. Use it with our compliments."
He turned. "In the meantime, however, I have a diplomatic call to make." He walked to the Floo and called Gringott's. A minute later, Ragnok and another goblin were standing in the room. Harry looked at the fellow and scowled, trying to remember something. "I've met you before, sir, but I don't know if I ever got your name."
A smile that showed no teeth was his response. "You met me when you were eleven, more than half your lifetime ago," the goblin said. "Back then I was a cart handler. I've climbed the ranks a bit since then."
"Griphook!" Harry exclaimed with a big grin on his face. "Sorry about not remembering your name."
"You have had more important things to do than remember the name of a goblin that you met only one, Mr Potter. I admit to some surprise that you remembered my appearance."
"That's our husband for you," Luna said proudly.
Dobby appeared in the room suddenly, dressed in a luridly coloured butler's uniform. "The meeting room has been prepared, Master Harry," he said.
"Thank you, Dobby." He motioned to the goblins and then headed first into the room, showing his trust of them by showing them his back. He sat at the head position at the table and waited for everyone else to take their places.
"All right," he said when everyone had been seated and had drinks in front of them. "I've been suckered back to England by some little jerk with delusions of grandeur. He's taken a step too far by kidnapping my daughter and slicing off her finger to give me proof of her being in his clutches."
"I told you before, Harry — if you decide to go to war with this burgeoning Dark Lord, let us know, and you will have troops available," Ragnok stated.
"I do appreciate it. We'll have to see, though. A lot of it depends on just how big a threat this fool is. For one thing, he's using the old Morsmordre spell, so that means he wants to be thought of as the successor to Voldemort, but my personal thought is that he simply doesn't have the membership to alter the spell, since that's a tricky bit of work. Right Hermione?"
She smiled and lifted her wand, saying "Sigilus!" What appeared over the table was a periwinkle symbol that combined an otter, a stag, an eagle, a phoenix and a penguin, all cavorting happily together. "I'm researching how to take that mark of Severus's arm. I'm pretty close, but I want to make it as painless as possible."
"And I've said that I don't mind some pain," Severus replied with a smile.
She grinned in response. "I know you've experienced the Cruciatus. That doesn't mean I want to hit you with something that could be just as painful."
"We're getting off track," Harry said. "That shows that the Dark Mark spell can be modified, so the new Dork Lard either couldn't be bothered or doesn't know how."
"Or he hasn't realised that the only way he'll properly make a name for himself is to have his own mark, not use one from a failed Dark Lord," Ron said. After a momentary pause, he asked, "'Dork Lard'?"
"Fits with the thought process I have about this guy. He uses the old Morsmordre spell, which gives him a tie back to a failed Dark Lord. He's arrogant, which is actually a given, since he's trying to openly be a Dark Lord so soon after the last one Went Away." The others chuckled as they realised that they could hear the capitalisation. There are several things that point as his laziness or bad scholarship as well. The spell is one. His chosen Dark Lord name is another. Is there anyone at this table who didn't translate Basileus to some form of leader? I've seen it as 'war-chief', 'king' and even translated as 'emperor'."
"If he weren't an ineffective little gimp, I'd figure that you were talking about Draco Malfoy," Daphne said. "Arrogant, bad scholar, and thinks more of himself than he should."
"Given his little problem -" Susan started to say.
"Which one?" Pansy and Daphne asked simultaneously. Their eyes met and they started giggling.
"I'm sorry," Pansy finally said through the giggles.
"Nah, I wasn't as unlucky as you — he just liked to show of to impress the girls."
"There was something to impress with?" Ginny asked quietly.
Pansy replied. "No. That's the reason we're giggling."
"From someone else on the receiving end, I can vouch for the fact that it's not that big." He shrugged as the table went silent. "Hey, no worries. It's over and done with, and led to me being married to four lovely ladies. I can't exactly complain, can I?"
Ragnok smiled, showing all at the table great respect by not showing teeth. "We need to prepare for the eventual attack on those who would mar the hand of your beautiful daughter," he said, bringing the conversation back to it's start point.
"My apologies," Harry said. "Time is money, and we are wasting both of yours." He shook his head. "It really comes down to me making sure that Lord Basselope knows that I'm in England. Best way to do that is to go to Diagon Alley and mingle with the tourists. I expect that shortly thereafter, I will be contacted. Possibly while I'm still there."
Luna shot to her feet and grabbed Hermione. "My father! We're so worried about this that -"
Griphook stood. "May I join you, in case there are problems?" She nodded, and the three ran for the Floo.
"Damn," Harry said. "I can't believe that I forgot that Lawrence ... dammit." He shook his head. "Enough of that. We'll see him in a few moments, I hope, and then I'll contact the other parents and get them here."
"Let me set goblin guards on those you deem necessary," Ragnok said. "No charge. A sign of our solidarity in ending this Dark Lord menace."
Harry nodded and waited for Lawrence to arrive with the small party that had gone to retrieve him. "Lawrence, I'm sorry -"
"What are you apologising for?" Lawrence asked darkly. "You're not the one who lost his own grand-daughter, in his own home."
"Our opponent is wealthy, and could obviously afford to hire ward breakers." He looked to Ragnok. "I don't know enough about the concept — can you tell whose work brought a ward down?"
"It can be done, yes. Griphook, contact the department and see to it." The other goblin nodded and left the room.
The rest sat and comforted Lawrence. "We don't blame you," Harry said. "We have an enemy with access to some money and some muscle, and none of us found out about it until today. The Ministry appears to have been hiding evidence of this Basileus's work. He came out of the closet, so to speak, with today's murder. None of us had any reason to suspect this might happen."
Griphook returned a moment later. "The team is on their way. Would I be correct in assuming that you suspect William?"
"No one's seen him in a few years. He could have disappeared into a bottle, or he could have decided that it was really my fault that he lost his girlfriend and his job and decided on revenge. I'm actually hoping that you don't find any residue of his work there."
"We still need to plan," he said. "Honestly, if he's decided to come out as a Dark Lord, then if I spend the next handful of days wandering around Diagon Alley, acting as if I'm familiarising myself with the Alley again, we're likely to see Dweebo the Wonder Chicken show up with his people. Or maybe he'll just send the people to grab me."
"'Dweebo the Wonder Chicken'?" Ginny asked with a giggle. "Where did that come from?"
"To mock your enemy such shows your contempt," Ragnok said. "I definitely approve."
Harry had taken, in the last five years, to doing most of his magic wandlessly. It had become second nature to him, although he kept the holly and phoenix feather wand around — it was an old friend, after all. Knowing that he didn't want that little titbit of information released, he took a moment Transfigure a piece of wood into an exact duplicate (right down to the little scratches on it) before heading out to Diagon Alley.
The trip was a nightmare of epic proportions to someone who prefers his privacy, such as Harry. Now almost 23 years old, he was reminded of his first visit to The Leaky Cauldron. He found himself wondering if Doris Crockford actually ever travelled anywhere, because the only times he'd ever met the woman she'd been in the Cauldron.
It wasn't any better in the Alley. People were happy to see that he had returned, and were mobbing him, hoping to speak to him or touch him, as if the mere act of touching him would somehow transfer strong protections to them.
He finally managed to get to Weasley Wizard Wheezes, where he found Fred and George looking out the door. It opened and he was pulled inside quickly, and the door shut immediately behind him. "Business meeting!" George shouted through the door to the people outside. "We'll be back shortly!" They set to pulling him away from the front door and into the back.
"What brings you to Diagon Alley ..." Fred started.
"... after five years of wedded bliss?" George finished. "Looking for something to spice up your love life, perhaps?"
"If so, you're in luck," Fred said. "We've just started marketing a more ... adult line of ... ah, toys, if you will."
Harry looked at them for a moment before bursting into laughter. "I'm sorry," he finally gasped to the amused Weasleys, "but I was seeing a connection between your pranking and your adult line."
"Do tell?" Fred asked, interest piqued.
Harry shook his head. "I assume you've managed to develop the equivalent of the Muggle vibrator, only without the need for batteries?" They nodded at him. "My thought was one of those that you'd also put some of your fake wand enchantments on, and the look on some poor woman's face as she holds a vibrating rubber chicken."
"Harry, you are diseased to think of something like that," George said.
"No wonder we love you," was Fred quipped reply.
They enjoyed the laugh for a few moments before getting serious. "Why are you really in Diagon Alley?" Fred asked. "Does it have to do with Fudge getting murdered yesterday and that Dark Mark glowing over the body?"
"Yes and no," Harry replied. "Apparently the Ministry has been hiding from the public the fact that someone is positioning himself to become the new Dark Lord. He's calling himself Lord Basileus."
"Arrogant little prick, ain't he?" George scoffed. "'Lord King'? Bit full of himself."
"Yeah, well he's managed to sign his own death warrant. I'm here in England to get the little fucker to notice me," Harry growled. Several nearby glasses danced on the counter. "Sorry," he said, quashing his anger, and allowing the glasses to stop dancing.
"Who did this Lord Basingstoke hurt?" George asked.
"He sent us one of Lorelei's fingers." Harry said simply.
The reaction of the two men was shocking, even to Harry. For only a moment they stood stock still, and then their eyes narrowed as they turned as one and fired a spell at the back wall, howling with rage as they did. Harry was forced to repair the wall a moment later, since they had managed to completely remove it.
"The little bastard did what?" Fred asked dangerously.
"She may be no relation to us, but she's our little niece," George added, "and no one, and I mean no one, hurts our little girl that way."
"Promise us you'll leave something for us to ... play with," Fred finished.
"No promises, guy," Harry said in a voice rather thick with emotion. "I've got the goblins mobilising in case we need them for war, now I've got you, and do you really think that my wives are going to just sit by and let this happen? We're not going to leave you out of the loop, but I can't promise that there will be enough to scrape into a small box when we're all done with him."
He pulled them into a hug. "It means everything to us that you feel that way, though." He scowled toward the front of the store. "Now I just have to go back out and face that ravening horde."
"You can handle them, Harry," Fred said, his good mood back as if it had never been gone.
"You're Harry Potter, The Man Who Killed Voldemort!" George added, striking a pose reminiscent of a certain Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
"Is he still in St Mungos?" Harry asked with a grin, to which he received two vigorous nods as an answer. "Good." He steeled himself and headed back toward the front of the store. "Time to face my destiny, I suppose." He stepped back into Diagon Alley and made his way toward Gringott's, hoping to perhaps check his vaults, or at least get some idea of how well his investments were doing.
The crowds had finally started to thin as he got closer to the bank, and he found Lawrence and his wives on the steps waiting for him. As he mounted the stairs, he heard several loud cracks of Apparation.
He turned to find himself faced with the usual black robes and white masks. "Oh, give me a break," he said to the dozen people so robed. "That didn't work for He Who Now Pushes Up Daisies, and it won't work for Lord Basketball, or whatever he calls himself." He pulled his wand. "Now, do you leave peaceably, passing on the message to your Lord Baskerville that I'm willing to let him be if he'll give up this foolish nonsense and return what he took from me, or do you return to him in pieces?"
"Lord Basileus will not be denied!" shouted a heavily accented male voice, who immediately fired a spell in Harry's direction.
Harry dodged it handily and fired a Stunner in the man's direction, followed by a fan of various other non-lethal spells toward the other eleven. Much to everyone's surprise, Harry hit with six of them, handily taking the ones so hit out of the battle. At least one of them Apparated away as a loud wet sound erupted from them, and Harry knew that he'd be explaining to his boss why he'd left after being hit with an Explosive Diarrhoea Curse. As they traded spells, he thought of talking to the twins about developing some 'prank' munitions. Explosive Diarrhoea was bad enough, but what if it was truly explosive?
The others had joined the fray, and it was surprisingly difficult a fight. The heavily accented man was a very good fighter, more than making up for the lesser skills of the ones still fighting alongside him. In a one-on-one fight, Harry would have been able to defeat him with ease, but with trying to keep his facility with wandless magic and helping to protect the other five, he was hampered in his capabilities.
This became all too evident when the fighter that Harry had mental christened Accent suddenly charged at Harry, punching him hard in the jaw and slapping something on his chest. Harry brought his hand up and punched Accent back as hard as he could, driving the man away from him and knocking his mask off. As Accent stood, a cadre of Aurors appeared in their dark maroon robes, distracting everyone for just a split second — long enough for Accent to fire a spell at Harry. Even as Harry leapt into the air to dodge, he felt the nauseating feel of a Portkey behind his navel. As he faded away, he heard Lawrence shout "You!", obviously in recognition of someone — likely Accent.
Harry landed in a cell somewhere — hard. He had been in the air in the midst of an evasion, and continued the movement as he reappeared — barely pulling his head out of the way in time. He still crashed very hard into the wall, stunning himself for a moment. This was more than enough time for people to come rushing into the cell and Stun him into unconsciousness.
He awoke in very different surroundings. He was in a well-appointed room, chained to a wall, facing a throne-like chair. He looked down to find himself wearing nothing. I've learned to be comfortable on the island, to the point where Daphne can rise out of the ocean like Aphrodite with flaming red hair and I don't react, so I don't think this is going to embarrass me the way the Dark Jerk wants it to.
He was pulled out of his musings as people began to filter into the room, ending finally with he who was obviously Lord Basileus, simply by how he carried himself. Harry watched him walk, and said the first thing that popped into his mind. "Bloody hell! You mean to tell me that the wizarding world is afraid of a swaggering ferret?"
'Lord Basileus' finished his walk to the throne and sat down. "I would watch my tongue if I were you, Potter," he said, removing all doubt from Harry's mind. "You seem to be unaware of which one of us is in power here."
Harry snorted. "I'm to be afraid of a man — and I use the term loosely — who can't even perform his own harmful spells because they'll backfire on him and hurt him instead?"
Malfoy reacted differently than Harry would have expected — he smirked and said, "A true leader does not need to dirty his own hands, Potter. He gets others to do it for him. Flint, if you would?" A moment later, Harry was writhing under the influence of the Cruciatus.
"Coward I name you," Harry growled when his senses returned. "You don't have the balls to do it yourself."
"I know what you're hoping to do, Potter," drawled the blonde man. "You're hoping that I'll get so angry that I'll let you challenge me to a duel, hoping that I'll return your wand to you. I know how dangerous you are with that wand, so -" Draco held up the wand that had been taken from Harry when he had been searched in the cell. Grasping both ends, Draco quickly snapped the wood into two pieces. "Oops, you seem to have broken your wand, so I have every right to deny the duel." He sat back, relaxing deeply in the chair. "I think it's time that we have a little fun before returning your body to Diagon Alley, crucified the way the Romans used to do it. We'll get your little slags sooner or later, and kill those half-blooded monstrosities you call children before their eyes."
That was all that Harry needed to hear. "Draco Malfoy, you are definitely too stupid to live. First you kidnap my daughter and slice off a finger to draw me back to England, and then you tell me that you're going to murder my other children in front of their mothers. Tell me, do you have your will made out?" he finished with a growl.
"What are you talking about — kidnapping your daughter? We don't have any one of your mongrels yet." Draco looked angrily puzzled at Harry's comments.
"You honestly expect me to believe that?" Harry asked as he flexed his arms, letting a burst of magic loosen the fasteners holding the plates to the wall. He swing his arms around, catching two of Malfoy's goons around their necks. One hard yank later and Malfoy was down two minions. He swing his right hand out, the chain releasing from the dead henchman's neck, and it snapped into a straight line, pointing directly at Marcus Flint for just a moment. At that exact moment, a bolt of violet-white lightning arced down the chain from Harry's hand and incinerated the man who had taken eight years to finish a seven year school. The chains fell from his arms and ankles and he strode forward, literally glowing with power. His left hand shot out, and all of the remaining thugs slammed against the walls several inches off the floor, staying there in whatever position they had been in at the time. This meant that several would be out of the fight even if they were released immediately, since the position that they had assumed required the breaking of bones.
Harry stalked forward and grabbed the front of Draco's robes. "You're the dreaded Lord Basileus? Give me a fucking break! Now tell me where my daughter is, or I take your head to the Ministry to prove that you're the one. Don't make me rip it off and keep it alive long enough to rip whatever they need out of you."
Draco now did for the first time something that Harry expected — he lost control of his bowels and began gibbering. "I'm serious, Potter! I don't know where your daughter is! We never grabbed her! Our first official introduction to the wizards was assassinating Fudge! We didn't even know any of your children were in England!"
Harry glared deeply into Draco's eyes for a long moment, judging the truth of the man's statement. A few moments later, he threw him at the wall, sticking him to it as well and breaking his wand arm in the process. He conjured some clothes and then concentrated as he looked at the throne. A few moments later, he dropped a conjured note into it and made a 'shooing' motion at it, causing the chair to disappear.
Ten minutes later, Amelia Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks and a few other Aurors, as well as his wives appeared. "Hello Aunt Amelia," he said. "Turns out that this new Lord Basselope was Draco Malfoy."
"That's Basileus!" Draco yelled. "At least get the name right!" With a look of calculation on his face, he added, "And it took Harry Potter to bring me down!"
Harry laughed. "It required seven people and something extremely explosive to kill Voldemort, you dickless jerk. I defeated you and your entire cadre while naked and wandless. You are literally nothing to me. And now you get to join your mother in Azkaban, and I can probably make a claim on the Malfoy fortune."
"As a matter of fact, you can," Amelia said. "That would take you from the richest person in England to the richest person in Europe."
"I think I will," he said. "By the way, is Narcissa still mauve?" Amelia nodded with a smile.
"Um, Mr Potter?" one of the Aurors asked. "Would you please unstick these fellows from the wall so that we can take them into custody?" A moment later, everyone that had an Auror in front of them fell to the floor, making two men scream as their broken legs became compound fractures.
In short order, all of them were in Ministry holding cells, and Harry was saying, "If I can make that claim on their money, I want to before they go to trial. Less bribery going to happen if I have their money."
"Agreed," Amelia relied. "So, how are you doing really?"
"I'm trying to figure out who has my baby girl," he said. "Malfoy didn't. He's filthy because I threatened to rip his head off and keep it alive long enough for interrogation if he didn't give me my daughter back."
"Can you do that?" Tonks asked in wonder.
"Not likely," Harry responded, "but Malfoy thought I could, so he squealed like a pig with its testicles in a vice." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. This is bringing out absolutely the worst side of me."
"Understood," Amelia said. "Let's get back to the Ministry and see about Lawrence. He recognised someone, according to your wives?"
"I guess so. I heard him shout just as I was being Portkeyed out."
A minute later they were all congregating in a small meeting room just off Amelia's office. "Now Lawrence," Amelia said, "What was your reaction in regards to as Harry was being Portkeyed away?"
"I recognised one of the people who had attacked my house and kidnapped my little baby grand-daughter," he said. "It was one of your Aurors."