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Power Plays Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2022-10-14 15:58:00 +0000 UTCAN: Hello everyone! Here is chapter 2 of Power Plays! This was one of the two stories I trialed a couple of months ago (see here). I plan on continuing both stories every month, posting at least 2 chapters per month while also working on one-shots and other stories. Chapter 3 will be posted a couple of minutes after this one, so look out for it!
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The green flames swirled around Harry in one final burst of life before they extinguished into nothingness as he stepped out of the Weasley’s fireplace and into the chaotic kitchen. All around him, the Weasley family rushed about in their usual madness to get ready for the day. Molly was carrying a plate of bacon while deftly moving in between Ron and George as they fought to grab a slice of toast from the counter. Arthur was chasing after an enchanted yellow rubber ducky that was swimming through the air above the kitchen table while Ginny was trying to maneuver to her seat, sweating and muddy from an early morning workout session. Percy, Hermione, and Angelina were the only calm ones who were already sitting down, sipping on their morning tea and nibbling on their breakfasts.
“Harry!” Molly exclaimed. As per usual, she was the first one to spot him. She was always great at that, keeping a close eye on the comings and goings in her home.
Everyone’s gaze snapped over towards Harry and he was met with a round of greetings.
“Morning everyone,” Harry called back over the noise as he slipped down onto his usual seat across from Ron.
Before he could say anything else, Molly was already at his side, sliding a fresh omelet onto his plate and planting a motherly kiss on his head. “Eat up,” she smiled at him as she quickly retreated back towards the stove.
“Thank you!” Harry called out before starting to dig in, knowing that if he didn’t start now, his food was likely to be absconded by one of the hungry Weasleys.
“Harry, mate,” Ron chortled as he glanced down at the newspaper in his hand. “Did you see the shot of Dawlish in today’s paper?”
“I haven’t had the chance yet,” Harry answered, shaking his head.
Ron laughed loudly again and handed over the paper to Harry. Ron had started as an Auror alongside Harry right after the Battle of Hogwarts, but he had dropped out just after completing his training to go help out George in his shop. However, before he left, Ron had managed to develop quite the intense hatred for one of their instructors: Dawlish. The man had been harsh, never content with any efforts they gave, no matter how good they were. On his way out, Ron had been sure to leave the man a surprise prank at his desk. Dawlish hadn’t seen it coming and went on a warpath to figure out who had managed to make his trousers and pants invisible, but he had never found Ron out.
Harry took the paper from Ron, trying to not look too excited to see what was within. As it turned out, he didn’t even need to open the paper. Instead, Dawlish falling on the stage at the ceremony yesterday was right at the bottom of the front page.
It had been all too easy to get Dawlish’s gaff published in the Daily Prophet; he hadn’t even needed to get his contact to push for it to get published. According to them, the new editor of the paper had a bad run-in with Dawlish over some petty bureaucracy at the Ministry shortly after the war ended. Ever since then, they’ve had a vendetta against the man.
As much as Harry wanted to laugh, or even just smile, at the sight of Dawlish falling over and over again, he schooled his features. It wouldn’t do to be seen laughing at his boss’ fall, even if everyone here wouldn’t tell a soul.
“The Prophet shouldn’t have printed this,” Harry lied, folding up the paper and passing it back to Ron.
Ron flipped the paper back open, taking another look at the picture with gleeful eyes. “I think I might pin it up on my wall.”
“Not in my house you won’t,” Molly said as she finally managed to sit down in her chair. The last few plates of food soared over her head and made for the table. Before they could even settle down on it though, the hungry Weasleys descended upon the platters of food, snatching off what they could while there was still some of Molly’s delicious cooking left to go around.
“So, Harry,” Arthur said, catching his attention. He had a rasher of bacon in between two of his fingers, pointing right at Harry. “I heard from Figgins over in the Department of Magical Transportation that you and your Auror team managed to bring in eight illegally-made brooms.”
“That’s right,” Harry nodded before picking up an empty mug. A pot of simmering coffee soared over to him, quickly filling his mug before retreating back to its post.
“Is it true then? Did someone really manage to attach a tow cable to it so that you could pull a muggle car up into the air with you?” Arthur leaned forward, looking supremely interested in what Harry’s answer would be.
Harry laughed loudly. Of course Arthur would be all over this. “Yes, it’s true.”
Arthur’s eyes widened as he took a bite of his piece of bacon. “Oh, what I wouldn’t do to get my hands on one of those.”
Molly slapped Arthur’s hand playfully. “Oh hush now, dear. I thought we were behind all this magical flying car business years ago.”
“Technically this car wouldn’t be magical,” Arthur argued. “It’s the broomstick that has all the magic in it, you see. That way, the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office wouldn’t be able to touch it!”
Before the couple could argue any further, Harry stepped in. “They’re all under lock and key right now, but I have it under good authority that the Comet Trading Company is looking into getting the idea passed through the regulations at the Ministry. If they can recreate what was done, then they might be able to get the tow cables out by next year.”
“That would be brilliant!” Arthur exclaimed, reminded Harry very much of Ron.
Taking another sip of his coffee, Harry smiled as he offered Arthur another surprise. “I might be able to talk to the Department of Magical Transportation and see if I can’t get one of those brooms out to do a . . . extra-careful check for any dark curses or enchantments. It might take an entire night to get it done though, and the office is so cramped. Would you mind if I brought the broom over here?”
Now, Harry always knew that he was like a seventh son to the Weasley family, but he’d never before seen the level of adoration that was currently in Arthur’s eyes; he was like an excited kid at Christmas. “Would you really?”
“You really don’t need to do that, Harry,” Molly said, trying to stop the situation before it progressed further, but Arthur was too excited to be denied. He leapt out of his seat and threw his arms around Harry.
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The Ministry was a mess, as usual. Harry still remembered the first time he had shown up as an Auror Trainee after the war. The new Minister, Kingsley, had been there to welcome Harry personally and show him around. It had been a chaotic place with hundreds of people rushing every witch way, countless interdepartmental memos flying around above everyone’s heads, and half a dozen people barking out orders, trying to direct the flow of traffic. “This is just temporary,” Kingsley had assured Harry. It was a part of every new government’s growing pains.
Well, it was five years later and everything was just as chaotic as it had been only a couple months after the war.
The queue for wand registration was a jumbled mess. There were four lines of angry, impatient ministry workers and visitors who just wanted to get to where they needed to be. The lines weaved and even intersected with one another a few times. Luckily, as an Auror, Harry got to bypass the line entirely.
“Mr Potter!” Voices called out as the first few people in the Atrium took notice of him. He still got thank yous and greetings every day, but at least he didn’t get swarmed anymore. However, today looked to be a bit of a different day.
Amid the crowd of the usual folk who wanted to say hello—there were always more of them around the anniversary of the final battle—a couple dozen reporters and photographers were camped out around the Ministry. Harry held back a sigh. They’d be relentless for a week or so and then they’d leave him alone. Still, as tiring as the harassment from the press was, it was an excellent way to improve his public image. Quite a few important people liked to be seen around Harry this week for that exact reason, and that helped him build his connections within the Ministry.
So, Harry put on a bright smile and waved at the press. They took that as a positive sign and, quickly, they rushed over, snapping off dozens of photos in seconds and shouting over one another.
Quite a few people from the queues to get past wand registration looked over curiously. It was a perfect spot to hold an impromptu press conference. There was nothing as great as a little word-of-mouth buzz to stir up some interest.
“Mr Potter!” Mr Potter!” The reporter’s cries jumbled into a mess, so Harry sent up a small flare of red light into the air and waved his hands above his head for calm.
“Alright, alright,” Harry shouted over them. “I’ll answer a few questions, but only one at a time. It’ll have to be quick because I’ve gotta get back to work actually catching some dark witches and wizards.”
The reporters all started talking over one another again. So, Harry simply pointed to one of them: a nervous-looking young wizard who had a scrap piece of parchment in his hand. The other reporters quieted down, grumbling.
“Mr Potter, Albie Trent from Spellbound.” Albie glanced back down at his parchment. “Sir, Mr Potter, with the recent capture of Fenrir Greyback, that leaves only a few notable Death Eaters left who have still evaded capture. How does the Auror Department plan on finishing the job it started five years ago?”
Harry stood up straight and tall, ensuring good posture for the photos to come. “The Auror Department has made it clear from the start that we are going to see this task through. Unfortunately, I cannot offer any details as to how we might go about this, but it is no secret that we have an informant who keeps us abreast with much of the knowledge we need to stop attacks before they start. I ask that you trust in me that I will personally ensure that each and every Death Eater receives justice for what they have done to this country.”
There was a flurry of clicks and tiny explosions as the cameras went off again. Harry made sure that his speech was full of hand motions and other movements to ensure that it would make for an eye-catching piece to appear on the front of newspapers. Then, once the cameras stopped taking pictures for a moment, Harry pointed at an older witch on the right.
“Mme Auclair with Le Cheval Ailé. Monsieur Potter, many of us in France have been wondering, will you be following in your mentor’s footsteps in taking up a role in the International Confederation of Wizards?” The French witch cocked her head to the side and stared up at Harry, looking intently curious at what his response would be.
“No, not at this time,” Harry answered with an easy smile. Truth be told, he hoped to eventually hold a position there, something that wouldn’t eat up too much of his time, but it was far too soon. He’d seen politicians make great waves in their home countries only to flounder once they reached the international stage. It wasn’t an easy place to work at, and you needed quite the backing if you wanted to have any sort of influence there. “I still have a long way to go before I think of anything like that. I’m still quite happy and proud of my work as a Senior Auror under the capable leadership of the Head Auror, John Dawlish.”
“And speaking of him!” A voice interjected.
The reporters all turned to the loud voice with a range of disgruntled expressions on their faces. Normally, Harry would be among that group, and would pointedly ignore the comment made by whoever interrupted. However, this wasn’t any normal situation.
Draped in bottle-green robes, Rita Skeeter gave Harry that ever-so-typical smug expression as her Quick-Quotes Quill scratched down her words onto a floating piece of parchment. Her brightly-painted crimson fingernails tapped her cheek as she looked at him over the brim of her glasses. “Mr Potter, what do you have to say about your boss’ latest gaff that appeared in the Daily Prophet this morning? He’s been having quite a few mistakes like this recently, hasn’t he? If he’s the leader of the Auror Department, how can the public be sure that any of you are up to snuff?”
To all of the onlookers, Rita looked boorish and snide, but Harry and Rita knew the truth of it. Harry had to bite back a smile. She had been on his side for long enough now that he had started to find some humour to her inflammatory words.
“Head Auror Dawlish is a competent man,” Harry responded coldly. “He’s led many of the raids against the remaining Death Eaters-”
“And yet you’ve been the one that the Ministry has given credit to on that front,” Rita pointed out accurately.
“That may be so, but that doesn’t discredit the great benefits he gives to the department,” Harry countered.
“Like making a fool of himself at every public event?” Rita raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
Though her words didn’t improve the other reporter’s impressions of Rita, Harry could see that their exchange was staring to take sway in the group. Not everyone was closely familiar with John Dawlish’s career, but they would be soon after today.
Harry tried to let a little bit of frustration leak through to his visage. Give them enough to hopefully snap a photo of him looking frustrated and it’d hopefully further the impact of the article Rita would inevitably write. “I won’t tolerate these attacks on a good man’s career any longer,” Harry snapped. He turned on his heel and strode away even as a dozen questions were hurled his way from others.
The flashes of cameras going off followed Harry as he stalked further into the Atrium until they eventually grew too far apart. They’d be stuck waiting to get through the checkpoint for at least another fifteen minutes, giving Harry enough time to smoothly slip between the pockets of Ministry workers that littered the atrium and into a waiting lift.
“That didn’t go too badly,” Harry muttered as the door snapped shut in front of him.
A tiny blur brushed past his gaze for just a moment before it suddenly shifted and transformed back into the smirking form of Rita Skeeter. “I’d say it went better than that,” she twirled around, throwing up her curly blond hair. She grabbed onto one of Harry’s arms, squeezing it in between her full breasts. “I figure I can get at least three more articles on Dawlish before the end of the week with what you gave me today.”
“As long as it’s at least somewhat believable,” Harry replied.
Rita batted her eyelashes up at him. “Of course.”
She was always like this around him ever since they . . . made their arrangement. Harry knew he’d never get good press from Rita; she made her career based on taking other’s down. So, instead of asking her to stop targeting, Harry only asked her to go after specific people. People that he chose. Once she heard the idea, Rita was more than happy to get the work. With Harry’s help, she was able to get juicy stories far more easily. In exchange, she helped him take down people he wanted out of the Ministry, and she’d sometimes ease up on him in the press a little bit.
Harry had always known that Rita was a flirt, but he never expected just how unashamedly she’d act once they started working together.
A second before the lift reached the destination Harry set, Rita leaned up to his ear and whispered to him. “I’ll do my best to get the public after him. Then, you just need to do your part and get him out of here.”
“Level Two: Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services,” a female voice magically sounded as the lift came to a stop.
Rita gave him a quick peck on the cheek and transformed back into a beetle and landed beside the button for the Atrium. As Harry stepped out, he pressed the button for her.
It was a short trip through the corridors towards the Auror Department. The doors to it were located just a few feet away from the elevator in case there was ever an emergency within the Ministry itself where the Aurors needed to respond quickly.
The Auror Department was a flurry of activity, much like most of the rest of the Ministry this early in the morning. As the shifts changed over, quite a few Aurors were coming and going. If it weren’t for the faded scar on his forehead and his well-known appearance in the Department, it would have been easy for Harry to slip through unnoticed. Unfortunately, that was not to be today.
“Potter!”
