You want me to cuddle Voldemort to death?
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns all. Don't we all wish we were her?
Summary: The summer after 'Order of the Phoenix', Harry is depressed and angry. And he starts thinking. Is death really irreversible?
After disappearing for a year, Harry has returned, wearing the pins that identify him as a Necromancer. The Ministry isn't too pleased with this...
Spoilers for: Books 1 to 5. (HBP never happened. Really.)
When Harry woke up the next morning, the first thing he saw was a wand pointing right between his eyes. "Good morning to you too,"he greeted Moody, who eyed him as if he could spit fire any moment.
"Dress," the old Auror ordered him. Kingsley handed him his clothes. Harry obediently put them on. "I need to brush my teeth. Honestly, Moody, you don't have to point your wand at me all the time. I'm not running away."
"It isn't personal, Harry," Tonks said, entering the room. She smiled apologetic. "Standard Ministry precautions. We're your escorts to the Courtroom."
"I expected something like that." Harry glanced at Moody's wand. "I'd still like to go to the bathroom without an audience, though."
"You've got five minutes," Kingsley said, before Moody could argue. Harry smiled, and took his skull-shaped pins from his trunk.
Tonks suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Er, Harry? You really should leave those here. Dumbledore has decided it's best if you look as innocent as possible, and pretend the whole Veil business was amisunderstanding."
"Tonks, we had agreed not to lie to the Wizengamot,"Moody hissed. "I don't care what Dumbledore says, Potter is dangerous and should -"
"You had agreed not to lie. Dumbledore -"
"We have to think of the Prophecy, Alastor, -"
"I'm not leaving my pins behind." Harry swiftly ended the discussion. He looked at the three Aurors, his eyes determined. "It's not just a matter of honour. The Atlantian Council of 893 B.C. decided all Necromancers should wear pins to warn people what magic they are dealing with. I don't want anyone hurt because they angered me enough to make my control slip." He grinned faintly. "Of course, they can still do that, but at least they'll be warned. And if you'll excuse me now, I'm going to brush my teeth."
Harry sat in the middle of Courtroom Eleven, bound by the magical chains. A few metres to his right, Fudge was droning on about how dark and evil Necromancy was, and how each and every single one of them was just a Dark Lord waiting to rise.
It bored Harry. He'd heard it all before. This entire trial was a great waste of time. They should have been planning the war, he should have been preparing an army, anythingwould have been more useful than sitting here and listening to an idiot.
"... not even considered human in most cultures..."
The worst thing was, Fudge could make his life very difficult. He was fairly sure he could survive anything they threw at him, but he really didn't fancy a life as a fugitive. Besides, he needed the Aurors working beside him in the war with Voldemort, not against him.
"... Image what he could do if he keeps his freedom!Death -"
Harry's stomach rumbled. Due to Moody's insistence they leave immediatly he had missed his breakfast. No matter how longingly he eyed the sausages Mrs Weasley had prepared, his escorts hadn't felt like waiting.
It wasn't the first time he went hungry in the past year. Necromancy was a tiring business. While you were under the influence of the magic you didn't feel mortal things like hunger or thirst, but as soon as the spells ended they came back with a vengeance.
"... that is why I feel the only fitting sentence would be the Dementor's Kiss."
Fudge had finally stopped talking. The level of idioticy in the air dropped several degrees.
Madame Bones took the word. "Harry James Potter, do you have anything to add to this?"
Harry sat up straight in his chair. "As a matter of fact I do, Madame Bones." He sought for the right words. "About a year ago, my godfather, Sirius Black, fell through the Veil in a battle with Death Eaters. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what happened in the Departement of Mysteries at the time. By the way, my godfather happens to be innocent, so I'd appreciate it if you don't throw him in Azkaban again. Anyway, everyone told me it was impossible to bring someone back from behind the Veil." He suddenly grinned."But perhaps you know my stance on 'impossible'. I spend a year learning what Ihad to do to get my godfather back. Of course I picked up some other things along the way too. Things that could be useful."
"Useful for what, Mr Potter?"
"Useful in the war against Voldemort." A shiver ran through the courtroom. Harry's green eyes caught Amelia Bones' gaze and held it with their intensity. "I'm sure you've heard the rumours about me being some kind of Chosen One. They are, in fact, true. There exist a prophecy, made to Albus Dumbledore, concerning me. It was thatprophecy Voldemort wanted from the Departement of Mysteries last year."
"Albus... Is this true?"
Dumbledore nodded. "I'm afraid it is. Harry is the one destined to defeat Voldemort." Another shiver, this time coupled with uneasy glances at the dark young man in the middle of the courtroom.
"This is preposterous!" Fudge, whose lime green bowler hat nicely contrasted with his reddening face. "They are obviously lying! It's all just another plot of Dumbledore to get the boy free!"
Head Auror Scrimgeour cleared his throat. "Minister Fudge has a point. I propose Veritaserum should be used."
"That wouldn't be a good idea," Harry warned them."Necromancers get very adverse reactions to Veritaserum, or other mind-altering substances. You're not suicidal, I hope?"
Dumbledore stood. "Veritaserum can be countered with Occlumency. It wouldn't work on Mr Potter."
Fudge started to argue, but Madame Bones quickly put astop to the chaos that threatened to break lose. "Anyone in favour of using Veritaserum on Mr Potter?"
The majority decided not to. Harry was relieved. He really didn't fancy blowing up half the Ministry because he lost control of his magic.
"The Dementor's Kiss is the usual sentence for Necromancy,"said Fudge, before Madame Bones could take the word again.
"What if he is the only one who can defeat You-Know-Who?"
"He'd still be alive, wouldn't he?"
"And how do you propose he'd fight You-Know-Who then?"Amelia asked icily.
Fudge looked flustered. "Well, he - er..."
"I doubt drooling on him would scare Voldemort much,"Harry offered, his face dead serious but his eyes sparkling with amusement."Perhaps he'd be so grossed out he takes a bath and accidently drowns himself, but I wouldn't count on it."
"This isn't the moment to make silly jokes, Mr Potter," said a stern looking Madame Bones. Harry smiled faintly. "Sorry."
The Wizengamot and the jury members adjourned to another room, to decide the verdict. Harry was left in the courtroom with two Dementors standing guard, and twenty distrustful looking Aurors. And Tonks. She gave him an encouraging smile.
He smiled back, but it withered under the angry glare Moody fixed on him.
Harry's stomach rumbled again.
It seemed to take ages before the court came back. Dumbledore winked at Harry and Fudge looked mad. Harry relaxed. He didn't bother listening to what Madame Bones was saying exactly. He got the gist of it: they spoke him free. And he was allowed to use his Death Magic, but only to help the war against Voldemort. Harry simply nodded and agreed. He'd deal with that rule when the war was over.
The chains around his wrists crawled back into the chair. He stood, just in time to see Fudge appearing next to him. The Minister's eyes were wild. He seemed to have conquired his fear for Harry, at least so much he could drag the young Necromancer and push him in front of the two Dementors that guarded the doorway. "Go on," the Minister hissed to them."Kiss him."
Before the Aurors - or anyone else - could react to this, the nearest Dementor pulled down his hood, and leaned forward.
A body fell on the ground, no longer supported by aconscious mind. The courtroom quieted. The Dementor pulled his hood back on.
Harry Potter kneeled next to the still body and pulled back Fudge's sleeves. A collective gasp broke the silence.
"I didn't expect this. I always thought he was bribed by the Death Eaters, or perhaps only acted like he did out of stupidity. Well... This clears some things up." He looked at the Dementor. "Thank you."
It inclined its head, as if to say 'You're welcome.'
Harry ignored what was said afterwards. He was too deep in thoughts.
If he hadn't managed to make a deal with the Dementors he would have been soulless now. Fate guarded him against dying, yes, but not against that... He would have been nothing more than a human plant, incurable. And Voldemort would have won.
Harry shivered. Sometimes it was best not to dwell on such thoughts.