Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Salvation4 Reviews
Hermione's fate is decided, a coronation, and a coup of unimaginable scale.
Recap of chapter 10:
As she began to get feeling back in her body, she noticed that the stabbing pain in her side was starting to get worse. Looking down, Hermione discovered that someone, she guessed Dumbledore had managed to land one solitary hit on her, but she thought the one curse that connected might have been all that was necessary. Her side had a large puncture wound comparable in size to those made by .50 caliber rounds, which was now bleeding quite copiously. As her knees buckled and she began to fall, Hermione thought for one fleeting instant before darkness claimed her that she had seen her friend Harry running toward her, a look of terror on his face.
Cah11 humbly presents
Chapter11: Rise of a Monarchy, Fall of a Ministry
After all the veela matriarchs had pledged their family’s support to Harry, everyone had sat back down and the current report on the veela nations was read. The report was not hopeful. Continent wide, there were only three hundred and fifteen thousand four hundred and thirty seven individuals with any veela power at all, of those only a fifth were considered to be average power, and only a fifteenth were considered to be high power veela. All the other individuals were considered to have little to no power in veela magic. After the report was read, people began to drift back to the city of tents to talk amongst themselves about the report and the latest development, namely the crowning of their new king, which would take place the next day.
Harry and the Delacours had been heading back to their tents, occasionally stopping along the way to talk with, and introduce Harry to his new subjects. Many were very polite and even seemed hopeful that Harry would be able to lead them into a better future. All the family matriarchs were pleasant and courteous to both Harry and Fleur, but occasionally Harry or Fleur would notice certain individuals, mainly young female veela staring at Fleur with dislike, or in extreme cases outright hostility.
‘Love, I think that your assent to the thrown has been well received universally, but it would appear that some are not as fond of me.’
‘Yes, I noticed that as well’ Harry thought back ‘Still, you are my bond mate, and they can do nothing to change that, even if I could, I would not pick any of these other individuals over you.’
‘Thank you dear that makes me feel better.’ Fleur admitted. She was still shocked sometimes by the depth of Harry’s devotion to her, and at times could not understand how Harry could not desire one of the other veela here at the enclave, even if they were bonded.
‘Honey, you are under the delusion that you do not think you are a worthy wife for me, when it is me that is not a worthy husband for you. Just accept the fact that I want no one but you, just as I have accepted that you want no one but me.’
Fleur swore that she almost melted inside at Harry’s declaration and decided that Harry would definitely be receiving a very special reward once they got back to their tent, a reward that would necessitate a strong silencing and locking ward.
As they finally reached their tent there was a sudden crack that split the air causing Harry to fall to the ground in an instant, thinking of gunfire and assassination, while every other veela nearby began looking in the same direction for the source of the commotion. What the veela saw left them stunned. A young woman, a witch by the looks of it, had apparated straight into the enclave, which should have been impossible. However the next thing they noticed about the new arrival was that there seemed to be a copious amount of blood gushing from a rather large puncture wound in her thigh. Not more than a second passed since she had appeared before her face turned bone white and she began to collapse to the ground. Many people began to run toward her, eager to help, the one in the lead however was non-other than Harry Potter, who had recognized his former friend, and despite her earlier betrayal, he still thought that it was possible that she had not known of Dumbledore’s manipulations and had acted without complete information.
Harry fell to his knees before Hermione as he reached her. Grabbing his wand, he pointed it at the wound in her thigh and began to chant a healing charm. After a few moments however, Harry cursed loudly and said, “I can’t heal this with magic, there’s too much dark magic surrounding the wound. She’ll need to be sown up the muggle way.”
Many of the surrounding veela paled at the thought that the spell cast was so dark that not even their king could overcome its power. It proved that whoever had done this was very powerful indeed, and that they weren’t afraid to kill for their own gain.
Harry had to think fast, she wouldn’t make it if he tried to take her to a medical tent as she was. He needed to control the bleeding now. Realizing what he could do, Harry made a prayer that Hermione would forgive him, and then partially transformed. Once his extremities were sufficiently aflame, he pressed his hands against her wound, wincing as the skin sizzled and parts of it turned black and charred. As soon as the bleeding had slowed to a trickle, Harry had picked Hermione’s limp body and ran to the nearest medical tent. Hermione had been removed from his arms the moment he had arrived, and been taken into a partitioned section where Harry could hear the shouts of veela healers as they worked on her, desperately trying to close the wound completely. Feeling helpless, Harry sunk to the ground and buried his face in his hands. How could he have forgotten his friends in England? True they had betrayed him, but they were reacting that way after years of pro-Dumbledore propaganda and six more years of his tutelage. Harry had hoped that Hermione, being a muggleborn, would not be as swayed by Dumbledore’s reputation. He should have known that her devotion to authority would supersede any friendships she may have made. If Hermione died, it would be his fault for leaving his friend behind. She would become another name added to his list of people that he loved that had died because of his inaction, first Cedric, then Sirius, and now possibly Hermione.
Fleur watched her bond mate sadly, and kept a close watch on his emotions through the bond. She was alarmed as his thoughts became closer and closer to self-loathing for his supposed abandonment of his friends. Finally she decided that she had to intervene before Harry did something extremely rash that ended in both their deaths.
Harry’s thought became blacker and blacker, If Hermione died, Harry didn’t think he would be able to live with himself. He decided that if she died, he would immediately apparate to Hogwarts alone and implode his core, killing himself and Dumbledore instantly. That way he would take that dark man with him when his life ended.
As Harry continued to brood, Fleur walked up behind him and sat down, wrapping her arms around his body as she did so. The moment she touched him, he burst into tears and turned in her embrace so he was crying on her shoulder. Fleur merely wrapped Harry tighter in her hug and said, “She is strong Harry, she’ll pull through.”
“But wh-what if she d-doesn’t?” Harry asked “Wh-what if she dies, sh-she was one of my fi-first friends.”
“Oh Harry, everyone dies.” Fleur said sadly, “It does not matter when we die, or how we die, but what we have the chance to do before death. That is what truly matters. If she dies now, then she will have died for a worthy cause, she would have died warning us about how dark Dumbledore has really gone.” After that Fleur and Harry sat in silence, waiting for the veela healers to come out and inform them if they had been successful at saving Hermione or not. Nearly an hour later, the head healer walked out of the tent with a very grave expression on her face and said, “It is done.”
Knowing that this could mean any number of things Harry of course asked, “Does she live?” his voice was sad, but with a tinge of hope because the healer had not come right out and pronounced her dead.
The grave look on the healers face was instantly replaced by a warm smile and she said, “Yes my Lord, she lives. It was a close thing, and she was touch and go for a while there, but you did an excellent job getting her here alive. It was a good thing you kept your head and cauterized the wound before bringing her here, or she would have died while you were taking her from where she apparated in, to here.
Harry beamed with happiness, and Fleur’s arms relaxed around him as she took comfort in the knowledge that her mate no longer felt as responsible for Hermione’s injuries. She knew that if Hermione had died, Harry would have blamed himself entirely for her death.
“When can we go in and see her?” Harry asked.
“She is recovering right now, but she should be awake in a few hours if you wish to speak with her.” The healer replied before heading back into the medical tent.
Harry sighed and turning in Fleur’s arms, embraced her back saying, “Thank you love, thank you for being here for me when I needed you. It means a lot.”
“Oh Harry, you must understand that no matter what happens, I will always be here for you. Nothing will ever be able to keep us apart ever again.”
“I know love, it’s just, whenever I find someone who loves me, it seems that they get taken away before I get the chance to really spend much time with them. I only got a year and a half with my parents before Voldemort killed them, then Remus entered my life in third year, but had to leave, and he was never really much of a father figure to me. Then I met Sirius, and he became my father. But then he got killed at the Ministry…” At the recitation of everything he had lost, Harry’s voice broke and he wept once again into Fleur’s shoulder. Fleur, knowing there wasn’t really anything she could do to dampen his fear merely held him tighter in her arms and whispered soothing words in his ear about how she would never leave him alone again.
Eventually Harry’s emotions burned themselves out leaving him emotionally drained, which when combined with the energy he had expended at the duel of wills and the power he had used to save Hermione, and the emotional shock of seeing one of his first friends mortally wounded, caused him to feel so exhausted that he felt as if he could sleep for a week.
Sensing the extent of Harry’s exhaustion through the bond, Fleur stood herself and Harry up, and keeping him in a tight embrace, began to half lead half carry him back to their families tents. Once there, she was immediately accosted by her family who all wanted to know the same question. Who was the witch that Harry carried away, and was she still alive?
Speaking in a whisper so as not to disturb Harry, who seemed to be dozing on her shoulder, Fleur answered “The witch was a friend of Harry’s from Hogwarts; she had a huge hole, most likely inflicted by a dark variant of the piercing hex, blown into her hip, and yes, she did survive, now if you’ll excuse us, Harry has had a very traumatic day and I fear he has slipped into emotional shock, I’m taking him to bed until evening, and we don’t want any one disturbing us unless it is of dire consequence, and I mean that, if we are interrupted for anything less than our race being on the verge of war with Britain, I will personally burn the messenger to bones before he can utter so much as a syllable.
Mr. Delacour was shocked at first about Fleur’s declaration, but after taking a closer look at Harry, he found that maybe his daughter was right to be so harsh about this, the boy and young monarch looked completely knackered.
Whispering in Harry’s ear, Fleur led him into the back of the magically enlarged tent, where their quarters were located. As soon as they had entered the bed room, Fleur’s hands moved to his robe, which she pulled off of him and threw on the ground, and then she unbuttoned and pushed his pants to the floor, taking his hands as she did so and gently pulled him forward, causing him to step out of the legs of his pants. Then moving her hands to his shirt, she began to lift it off of him, asking him softly to raise his arms for her, which he did, allowing her to get his shirt off leaving him in his boxers. Moving over to the bed, Fleur sat him down, then began to remover he own cloths until she was down to her bra and knickers.
Harry was tired, so tired that he didn’t even notice his wife stripping in front of him until she was pushing him down onto the bed and lying down in front of him. Harry then saw Fleur draw the blanket up over them and felt her wrap him in her arms as he quickly fell asleep, utterly and completely spent.
Ministry of Magic, London
David Greengrass was annoyed. He had come to the Ministry of Magic to fill out paper work for the upcoming Wizengamot session and had arrived to find that the door to his office would not respond to his magical signature. His irritation had become so great that he pulled his wand out and began to fire blasting hexes at the door, trying to blow it in before remembering that the doors were charmed to be indestructible so that they could not be broken into by those who would want to steal classified documents.
So here he was, standing outside his office wondering how he was going to get in, when he heard someone else walking down the hall. Turning, David saw Amos Diggory walking down the hall toward him. Wondering if Amos would be able to get into his office, David waited until Amos walked up to his door and saw him turn the handle and walk in. once he had entered, David walked to the door to Amos’ office and knocked. The door opened after a few moments and Amos peered out at David with a suspicious look on his face and asked, “Yes? What do you need Lord Greengrass?”
“Well, I was just wondering if you had any trouble getting into your office, because it would appear that I cannot enter mine for some reason.”
“Amos’ face turned from guarded to perplexed and said, “No, I got the door open alright, just like every other day, are you sure that you are trying the right door, and that someone is not just pranking you by switching the name plates?”
“I’m sure; I’ve only been coming to the same office at least once a week for the last 25 years of my life.” David said rather impatiently.
“Well let’s see you try again.” Amos said.
Stepping out into the hall, they walked back down to David’s door. Once there David reached out his hand and tried to turn the handle to open the door, but just as before, the door remained firmly locked.
“That is very odd.” Amos said, his face looking confused, “Maybe you should go see magical maintenance, have them reset the wards on your room.”
“Yea I’ll do that, can you check your inbox for me first, and just to make sure there is not any important court wide memos going around that I might miss?”
“Sure.” Amos replied. The pair once again moved back into Amos’s office and Amos reached over into his inbox and pulled a small stack of notices to himself. Flipping through them, he saw a letter from Amelia, one from Mrs. Longbottom, one from Mr. Croaker, and most unexpectedly a notice of an emergency Wizengamot Session called by majority vote for later that afternoon.
“I didn’t know there was a vote to hold an emergence meeting, did you?” Amos asked knowing that the Greengrass’, being a neutral family, had ties to both light and dark families, and thus were one of the first to know about anything either side did.
David sounded surprised and confused when he said, “No, I was not aware of a vote, or even a meeting called to request an emergency meeting. This is all very odd, and in my experience two seemingly innocent odd occurrences are not that innocent after all.”
David and Amos immediately moved to the chamber where the Wizengamot meetings were held where they split to move to their respective doors. Amos made it through the door to his box seat fine, but when David tried to go through the door to his seat, he found that like his office door, it refused to accept his magical signature. Sighing, David made his way to the visitor box and was surprised when he opened the door to find that the visitor box, which was usually almost completely empty, was jam packed now; in fact it was so full that it was practically standing room only. David was also surprised to find several familiar faces in the box with him, including Lady Longbottom, Amelia Bones, Mr. Abbot, and several other Wizengamot members. Walking up to his longtime friend Ken Davis, David asked “Couldn’t get into your box either?”
Ken looked surprised to see David there and said “No, everyone here that I’ve talked to has said that the door to their box, and the door to their office won’t respond to their magical signature, it’s almost as if someone has somehow stolen nine tenths of the Wizengamot seats and combined them under one.
David’s face paled at the idea that someone had subverted the system and managed to take control of the court by combining the seats all under one.
Suddenly, the door at the door at the far end of the court room opened and Dumbledore walking and took his place at the seat of the Chief Warlock. After arranging some papers in front of him, Dumbledore reached over for a gavel and banged it twice on the podium in front of him calling for order so the meeting could start. As soon as it had quieted down, Dumbledore stood and said, “I call to order the 50th emergency session of the wizengamot, the last one having been held in July 1942, is there anyone with any business to discuss before the reason for this emergency meeting is made public?” No one answered.
“Very well, this meeting was called by majority vote to discuss changes here in Wizarding Britain which shall be effective immediately. First, the reason that many of you can’t enter your wizengamot offices and boxes, this is because I have taken control of the wizengamot.”
Dumbledore’s explanation was interrupted by a hundred voices all shouting at once, asking how or why he had done this.
“SILENCE!” And indeed silence was forced upon them by the headmaster’s magic. “This has occurred for the greater good, too long have those in power held thing stagnant where they are, maintaining the status quo. Now, as for changes, one, the wizengamot is hereby dissolved, those who approve say aye. AYE!” everyone was shocked that as Dumbledore responded, over a hundred tally lights lite up, much more than the majority needed. “Those who oppose say nay.”
A few voices rang out showing their courageous, but futile desire to hold their positions.
“The vote stands at 178 votes aye, 13 votes nay, and 3 non-votes, motion passes, the Wizengamot is hereby disbanded, now, as written in the warlock’s charter of 1386, a new form of government must be chosen. Votes for those forms of government, and its leader are decided by those who held seats on the Wizengamot. As such, I have majority vote. I propose a Dictatorship as the new form of government, with me as its leader. All those that agree say aye, aye. All opposed say nay.”
Once again, a few voices rose in futile rebellion against the inevitable.
“The vote stands as 178 votes aye, 10 votes nay, and 6 non-votes, the new Dictatorship of Wizarding Britain is now the Government with me, Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore as the reigning dictator.” Many voices, including David’s rose in protest to the decision. “SILENCE!” Dumbledore yelled, his magic silencing them once again. “I thank all of you for your years of service on the wizengamot, but you are no longer necessary. Good day.” And with that, everyone in the chamber and the visitors section were ejected by the ancient magic of the hall. Everyone appeared outside the ministry, where many were now trying to get back into the building; however they were all repelled by ancient wards that had not been operational for centuries, but made the building more of a fortress than a government center.
David watched dispassionately as several people he knew foolishly threw themselves against the wards or fired hexes trying to wear them down. But David knew their actions would lead to nothing but collateral damage; there was enough energy in these wards to repel a goblin army, let alone 200 disorganized wizards with no military, or curse breaking experience.
‘This is bad, really bad, Dumbledore has managed to steal the entire government right out from under us, and the real question is, how did he achieve this?’ David shivered thinking that however he did it, he was unlikely to like the answer.
Dumbledore smiled. Now that he was the magical dictator, we could craft the laws as he saw fit, and because magic confirmed his rule, magic itself would enforce his decrees. This would make his job much easier.
Veela Enclave, France, The day of the coronation.
Once again, Harry was nervous. He was about to be crowned ruler of the whole veela race. He had, of course, known this for weeks intellectually, but now the moment was here. He was scared out of his mind. It had stated early that morning, after waking up from what he could only consider an emotional breakdown of the most embarrassing sort.
He had awoken and spent the next 10 minutes simply staring at Fleur in his arms, thinking about how much he loved her, when it hit him that he would be responsible for her safety in the coming conflict. Then he had had the slightly disconcerting realization that although magic may have picked him to be king of the veela, if he was not a good ruler, he would not have the backing of his subjects, and as the kings of the Renaissance learned, kingship was an empty title and no protection if you didn’t have the support of the people.
This of course got him thinking about the fact the he would now be responsible for the continued safety of an entire race of beings, and this thought filled him with dread. War was a bloody and terrible thing, and if Dumbledore was as serious as he appeared to be, then the situation would most definitely deteriorate to the point of open warfare. Later that morning Fleur and Harry had finally gotten up and gone out of their room to get breakfast. Once out of their room, they noticed that Mrs. Delacour was standing by the door of the tent talking to a very official looking veela. They appeared to be having a heated discussion about one thing or another, in fact it was so heated that Mrs. Delacour appeared to be right on the brink of transforming.
“Mama, what is wrong?” Fleur asked looking concerned.
Mrs. Delacour jumped and whipped around, catching sight of Harry and Fleur. Immediately she relaxed and said, “Nothing, now, this is a messenger from the medical tent, he claims to have a warning from Harry’s friend that must be delivered immediately. As per your instructions, I was about to tell him to come back later, but since you are both up, I suppose he can deliver his message.
“Thank you.” The messenger said, sounding rather impatient. “Your friend Miss Granger has quite a tale to tell, she claims that Dumbledore has bound the entire living population of Hogwarts to himself, which means that he has taken control of their minds, magic and souls. She apparently escaped by coincidence, and somehow managed to perform a blind apparition jump right on top of our camp. If I may be so bold your highness, I believe she is lying about the whole thing, I think she is part of a plot to have you assassinated.”
“That is enough!” Harry yelled, “Your last statement was too bold! Hermione would never try to get me killed, even when she disbelieved my innocence of being a dark wizard; she called for me to get help, not for my death.”
The messenger cowered at Harry’s anger and slowly began to back out of the tent with a short bow saying, “Forgive me your highness, it was not my place.” Before turning and running full sprint back to the medical tent.
As soon as the messenger was out of sight Harry seemed to wilt and leaned against Fleur for support. Fleur managed to catch him and hold onto him as Harry felt the guilt over what the headmaster had done overwhelm him. He had known that Dumbledore would go to great lengths to accomplish his goals, but he had not thought that that he would go as far as enslaving practically the entire preteen to young adult population of magical Britain.
So now here he was standing at the end of a long path that led to two thrones of wood and gold. Harry was dressed in a long robe of red and gold that was so elegant and delicate looking that he had been afraid to put it on when he had been first handed it. Every veela at the enclave was present, along with Hermione, who had healed enough over the night to be allowed to attend the coronation as long as she was closely watched by a healer.
Soon a regal sounding melody was struck up and Harry knew this was his queue to start walking, Fleur, who was standing beside him dressed in a similar manner as himself, followed at his side, minutes later, though it seemed hours to Harry, they reached the twin thrones and they turned to face the audience. The music stopped and everything was silent for an instant before Mr. Delacour marched toward them, two crowns upon the pillow in his hands. One crown was tall, and very much masculine. It was made of solid gold, with a huge sapphire in the center that had somehow, harry supposed by magic, been cut to the shape of a phoenix that appeared to be swooping down on prey, with its wings blown back and claws extended. The other crown was much smaller and more feminine than the first. It too was solid gold, but the phoenix shaped sapphire was much more docile. It was a phoenix that appeared to be basking in a hot burning flame.
Once Mr. Delacour had arrived in front of the pair, he had given them a small smile, tears of joy in his eyes, before beginning the ceremony.
“We are gathered here today to recognize the crowning of our new ruler, our new king. He is Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, Who were betrayed by a friend and slain by their mortal enemy. The enemy was defeated by Harry at the tender age of one, and thus began Harry life. Harry’s childhood was not easy; he was not treated with the care and affection that every child should be shown during their life. I will not go into details as that would take far too long; needless to say, Harry arrived in the Wizarding world with no knowledge of his past, his heritage, or his powers.”
At this, many veela looked confused, and several angry at the veiled insinuations that someone had even dared abused the heir to thrown. Mr. Delacour smiled internally, knowing that he had just effectively crushed any internal debate amongst veela that Harry was not their king. It was known that veela who were abused often had their developing powers turned inward causing them to go into mad berserker rages that were only stopped by lethal force. The fact that Harry help onto his sanity for so long, went a long way toward solidifying their case against anyone who might disagree with their story.
“His years at Hogwarts were no easier, every year he was put in unimaginable danger, every year he was tested, and every year he emerged triumphant. Again, we won’t go into details, but know that every year at Hogwarts except one, Harry came face to face with the dark wizard known as Voldemort and survived. In most cases even outright beating him in what should have been very one sided fights.
Then Harry grew stronger, he learned the things he needed to know to defeat the one who killed his parents. Finally the day came where he challenged the dark lord, and defeated him in one on one combat. The method was unorthodox, but no less effective. That is why I believe he deserves to be king, not for his fame, or even because of his heritage, because of his deeds. I am also proud of our new queen, who is none other than my older daughter Fleur. She managed to be Harry’s rock during a difficult time in his life. With Dumbledore’s betrayal, and his friends deserting him, Harry didn’t know who else to turn to. So he came to my daughter seeking asylum, and found much more than he bargained for.” The last part was said with a larger smile on his face.
“I am glad to call him my son, and glad he is our new ruler. With Harry leading us, you can be assured that he will not do things merely because they benefit him, or someone he knows. He will do them because it is the right thing to do. That is why today should be a day to remember. Not merely because we have crowned a new king and queen, but because they will be a good king and queen.” And with that Mr. Delacour took the queen’s crown from the pillow and moving in front of Fleur, waited for her to kneel before him. Once she had, he placed the crown upon her head, and then taking her by her hands, stood her up and then hugged her tightly. Next he moved in front of Harry and repeated the same he did for Fleur except after crowning him he held out his hand, and shook Harrys, putting as much respect and feeling as he could into the gesture. As the evening sun began to sink below the horizon, a flash of fire was seen above the couple, and Fawkes appeared, singing a song of hope, and courage for all those to hear. Though Hermione seemed discomforted by the song, she had not yet repaid her ills to the new king, and her soul was still not completely pure. It was as she saw Harry and Fleur looking at each other, and Fawkes with such love that she decided that she would repay her debt and repent of her sins against Harry, no matter how long it took. Then maybe, she could move on and would find her love. Her salvation.
Ok, first things first, truly, I am sorry that this update is so long in coming, real life decided that it would be a good time to start kicking me in the ass and stealing all my free time. Between end of term exams, seasonal work at Target (never working in retail again), and the holidays, I haven’t had much time to write. And though those aren’t really good excuses, they’re all I have.
I know this will shock many, but I have actually decided to end the story with this chapter, and make the whole war between Harry and Dumbledore a completely different story. Firstly because I’m afraid the story will get too long otherwise, I know I have a problem finishing stories that are too long (Searching for the power, and Harry and Kiki: Tales of the Boy Necromancer come to mind) I just have a problem with keeping my attention on one story for anything over 50 chapters (sometimes not even that long.) Secondly, I am an evil person, therefore, I’M LEAVING YOU ON A CLIFFHANGER AGAIN!!!!!! (Insert maniacal laugh of your choice.) Don’t worry, I’ll begin work on the sequel soon, let it be known that the sequel will be much more action packed than this story was, along with being gorier, more aghasty, and will contain character death. There will still be a romance element to it with the main pairing being Harry/Fleur. However, there will be a Hermione/OC side romance (Sorry people hoping for a Harry/Hermione/Fleur pairing, in this story, Fleur is soul bound to Harry, and if Hermione tried to join it would end badly, I’m not saying I won’t write that pairing in the future, just not for this story.) In that vein the next story will be mostly action and less storyline, that’s what this story was all about, setting up the sequel. Thanks for reading, and look out for the next story in this series that should be coming soon!