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SD:CH137 - A Not-So-Full Disclosure
🕑 Added 2024-11-19 13:17:43 +0000 UTCSeven people sat sprawled around on the couches and chairs on one side, as I casually studied them. Emmeline and Amelia looked composed as always, while Narcissa had her haughty mask on. Hermione sat, utterly content, next to Nymphadora Tonks who kept eyeing the door, probably anticipating an attack any moment. Hestia had frowned when Tonks had politely refused to sit next to her, looking almost amused before her Occlumency clouded her features once more.
As the group took their places around the table, I contemplated the peculiar situation I had found myself in. On one hand, I was quite exhilarated at having foiled Voldemort’s plans for good this early, not to mention sealing him away in a place that not even he’d have thought of. On the other hand, my latest stint had raised several questions among my anchors and lilims, questions that needed answering if I was to get their cooperation for the foreseeable future.
I could count on one hand the people I trusted implicitly at this stage and have a thumb left over. Hermione, Hestia, Emmeline and Amelia, the last one to an extent, at least until I had time to explain the complexities and answer all her queries about my recent meanderings on the political and personal stage. Narcissa and Anastasia… I did not trust completely. Both had agendas which were congruent to my own at this stage, and while the anchorage did provide a degree of control, they were by no means, my Lilims, and hence, it was impossible to tell when their interests might drop and turn to the other side of the line. Of course, I had to trust Narcissa to a degree, since she had taken oaths to be loyal to myself as the Lord Black, so long as I steered clear of hurting Draco intentionally.
And then there was Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks. The metamorphmagus that had her heart in the right place, and was fighting the good fight. She looked at Dumbledore and saw the good, old, omniscient old man that defeated one Dark Lord, stalled another, and was probably their best chance at fighting a third. I didn’t know exactly what this Dumbledore was feeding the Order, but there was a high chance that Nymphadora Tonks might potentially look at me and see a rising fourth.
On the other hand, she was going to be privy to my deepest, darkest ‘time-traveller’ secret, something that not even Amelia knew. I was quite sure that Narcissa too suspected something fishy with me, as did Anastasia, even though the latter’s agendas were rather murky to me right now.
And then Emmeline stood up.
“Before we begin, I would ask everyone to swear to a secrecy vow exclusively geared for tonight’s events. A high-level, carefully worded oath that will strike you down with an extremely debilitating curse if you reveal anything you learnt during tonight’s meeting to any outside party without Harry’s direct consent. If you attempt to trick this oath, or even think of betraying Harry over this, the magic will know and start reacting. At the end of this meeting, if you wish to continue working with him… with us, then you will have to submit to another set of vows, and this time, it will be Unbreakable. If not, you will have to willingly submit yourself to permanent obliviation for the entire period of the meeting. As a licensed Obliviator and seventh-level Legilimens, I can assure you there is no way you will be able to regain the memory of this meeting afterward.”
She paused and let everyone digest that for a few seconds.
“So anyone that is not comfortable with this, kindly leave this room right now.”
She waited for another long ten seconds, eyeing the right side of the room where Tonks was sitting, with Narcissa and Anastasia sitting a little further away.
“Is that an admission that he’s actually committed something so dastardly that it will land him in Azkaban for the rest of his life?” Tonks accused.
Before Emmeline could respond, I did. “You’re partially right, Tonks. What I have committed is so dastardly that if the right people were to know about it, they’d just fling me through the Veil.”
Amelia narrowed her eyes to slits.
“Veil?” Anastasia perked up.
“If you don’t know what it is, you’re probably better off not knowing,” I clarified, before looking back at Tonks. “So, what’s it gonna be?”
“Isn’t that a question for the DMLE Director?” Tonks sneered, and I had to admit, she did a fairly good job of it.
Amelia looked at her lazily. “Assuming the crime was committed during the period Martial Law was upheld, I will ignore it. If he did something that’s even half as horrendous as he describes it to be…” She met my eyes. “Then regardless of our association, we will come to blows.”
She glanced at Tonks again. “Does that satisfy you, Auror Tonks?”
“Sure,” Tonks drawled. “I am most eager to find out what secrets you have been sitting on that require such high levels of secrecy and also involve such… esteemed people.”
I smiled. “I’ll hold you to that. Now, any other questions, or shall we proceed to the vow?”
Fifteen minutes later, the vows were all taken care of. Between Emmeline and Hestia and Hermione, I had to trust that they had counted for nearly everything one could think of to safeguard the contents of this meeting. But knowing how things worked, I decided there was always a chance of the information getting out, which was why I was going to stick to my ‘time-travel’ story, and target my audience’s emotions, without going into the actually relevant bits.
I stood up again.
“I know that ever since the start of this summer, things have been quite different, at least as far as I am concerned. My behaviour, skills, knowledge, actions — none of them have truly fitted in with the profile you have derived about me based on the last three years. Some of you might think I was simply hiding myself, a snake in lion’s clothing. Others might think I am an imposter. And then there are those that simply believe I have been sitting on a great secret. I have too much respect for all of you to even try to claim that I am, in fact, the same Harry Potter you have known, read or heard about over the past years.”
I met Nymphadora’s eyes. “I am not.”
Something like victory shone in her eyes. Probably at my admission.
Silly girl.
“Whatever I am about to tell you is true to the best of my knowledge. And no, I am not willing to go through silly Veritaserum checks just so that you can satisfy yourself. You will find that the knowledge I have is more than enough to prove my facts.”
“An interesting preamble,” said Narcissa. “It sounds like whatever you’re about to say will shake our existing paradigms.”
I smiled. It won’t shake them. It will shatter them.
“Let me get straight to the point. My name is Harry James Potter, and I’m from the future of a different world.”
“Damnit,” said Amelia, glancing at Emmeline. “I really shouldn’t have taken you up on that bet.”
Nymphadora just stared at me, clearly wondering if I was just lying or plain crazy.
“A different world,” murmured Emmeline. “You certainly omitted that bit out when you revealed everything to me.”
I gave her a not-smile. “I told you that not everything was the same here. Sirius dying at the lake, Hermione turning into a… speaking of,” I met Hermione’s eyes. “Do you know what a Time-turner is?”
The lack of the usual spark of recognition only confirmed my words.
“There is a device in the Department of Mysteries, and Hestia can verify that for me. A time-turner, a device that allows a person to go back in Time by six hours. Or at least, that is how things were, back from the world I came from. In the Time Chamber of the Department of Mysteries, in that room full of clocks and a large, antiquated grandfather clock, was a glass box containing time—”
“Harry!” snapped Amelia. “That’s Omega-level classified information you’re just casually giving away!”
“I quite literally stumbled upon that Omega-level classified glass-box back in my fifth-year, while running from Death-Eaters,’ I shot back. “Plus, everyone here is under oath. Also, does that mean you also acknowledge it exists?”
Amelia scowled. “It’s a prototype device that the Unspeakables are still working on. It was supposed to be put into experimentation this year, but the Seers suggested against it. It’s still stuck until the Divination Board gives them a green signal.”
I didn’t know crap about a divination board, but that certainly explained why Hermione didn’t get hers in this reality. Was I truly the outlier that set dominoes in motion, or was this world already preparing to fuck things up and away from Canon, regardless of my presence?
It bore thinking upon.
“I guess in my world, the Seers thought differently and it was allowed for experimentation. Hermione got one, under the pretext of getting to take all five electives, with several of them often having classes at the same time. I’m not sure even Hermione knew she was being a labrat for the DOM.”
That I can believe,” said Hestia, with a laugh. “Hermione is exactly the sort to play with Time just to take some extra classes.”
Hermione stuck her tongue out.
“I imagine Harry confided about his past to you, Emmeline and Miss Granger?”
“Actually, it was Hestia that accused me of being a time-traveller,” I answered. “She’s smart that way. Hermione overheard me when I was revealing things to Hestia. Emmeline’s a special case, which I’m not going to disclose right now.”
Emmeline blew me a kiss.
That seemed to pacify Amelia. For now.
“Go on,” she said.
“Like I said earlier, some things in this world are very different than in my world. And yet, a lot of the events are the same,” I said, knowing this wasn’t likely to be an easy explanation. “And no, I am not quite certain how I ended up travelling through time. All I know is that I was fighting Voldemort, and something happened, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up at the hospital, only to find that Sirius Black was dead, and Snape had rescued me.”
“Professor Snape, Harry,” said Hermione.
I rolled my eyes.
“Fighting… the Dark Lord?” whispered Anastasia. “But he’s — he’s gone for good.”
“Not as much as you think,” I said dryly. “As the Director can herself vouch for, she paid an up-close and personal visit to the Dark Lord just yesterday, along with me and Emmeline.”
Every single one of them, including Narcissa and Tonks, went from gaping from me to gaping at Amelia.
“It is true,” Amelia murmured.
“How — how are you still alive?” asked Anastasia.
“It’s a long story,” I responded. “One we can get to after I’m done talking about my own secrets. And I’d like it if I can just share it all without having to play twenty questions.”
Over the next hour, everyone listened with growing horror and dread as I outlined for them in broad terms what I had ‘faced’, from the Triwizard tournament, my name coming out as the Fourth Champion, outflying a dragon, swimming in the lake to face off mermen, and finally the third task that led to Voldemort’s resurrection. I thanked my lucky stars that I had gotten the ‘Library of Knowledge’ Perk from Hermione. Without it, I couldn’t recollect the book content with that degree of accuracy.
Lord knows, the movies did a bang-up job of banging things out of context all the time.
Anastasia threw up when I described the ritual that regained Voldemort a body, as well as Cedric Diggory’s death. Dolore Umbridge; Azkaban breakout — which Amelia practically shot up to her feet upon hearing; alluded to the secret ‘weapon’ that the Order was keeping from Voldemort by posting Ministry officials to guard the Department of Mysteries, my eventual stunt at the place; Sirius Black falling through the Veil because of Bellatrix’s curse. I kept things vague at several points, using words like we and they instead of giving particulars, just so that they might not capture any inconsistencies.
Different world or not, I didn’t want to reveal any such information that would make them sceptical of my words.
“That’s a horrible idea,” said Amelia sourly. “Are you really telling me that Dumbledore — your Dumbledore — decided that Arthur Weasley or a rookie auror like her,” she idly pointed at Tonks, “would provide better resistance to the Death Eaters than the highly-trained Unspeakables and the debilitating enchantments placed inside?”
Tonks went bright orange. Quite literally.
“You uh—” she began sheepishly.
“Auror Tonks,” said Amelia archly. “All modesty aside, I own the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. So I know when my Aurors, especially someone like Kingsley Shacklebolt…” she paused, and I remembered that the man had perished in the attack, “or yourself, kept asking for leaves. You are free to follow whatever ideology you believe in, but I cannot condone Albus Dumbledore using my Aurors for his personal use.”
“It’s not his personal use,” Tonks defended. “It’s uh, to fight against the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters.”
“The last time the Death Eaters attacked Wizarding Britain, I nearly perished. And it is thanks to Harry Potter, and not Albus Dumbledore, that I was able to rejoin the fight and win. Understand this, Auror Tonks, it was not Albus Dumbledore that gave us victory against the Dark Lord when he vanished in 1981, and it wasn’t because of him that Wizarding Britain still has a DMLE Director sitting on her chair.”
Tonks looked like she had been slapped.
“Harry warned Dumbledore about a vision he had about the Dark Lord planning something with Lucius Malfoy at the World Cup, asking him, no, he begged him to take action, even going ahead to claim that if they didn’t act, then all those lives would be on his head,” said Emmeline, anger vivid in her tone. “I was there, Nymphadora. I saw it all. I heard it all.”
“Fat lot of good it did,” muttered the metamorph. “We still lost —”
“We still lost because we didn’t have information,” snapped Hestia. “Me, Harry, Emmeline, even Madam Bones — all of us had been working tirelessly to ensure things didn’t go wrong. But neither of us had any idea about the attack on the Quidditch World Cup.”
“Why?” Tonks sneered. “You forgot to tell them that bit from your future escapades?”
That rankled.
“No,” I said coldly. “That bit did not happen in my time. Back then, Lucius wasn’t involved in these plans. It’s another reason why I say this world is different from mine.”
“And mind you,” said Hestia. “If not for Harry, we’d not be able to save Madam Bones. If not for Harry, we’d never have the spirits of the fallen helping us and turning the tide. If not for us, all of us in this room would be dead, and just so you know Nymphadora, it would’ve been your fault. You were the one that just attacked him out of nowhere without even bothering with the information.”
“He was using Necromancy!” Tonks snapped.
“To save the Director’s life!” Hestia snapped back.
“Can we uh, get back to the topic?” asked Hermione softly. She looked at me. “Uh, Harry, I think we still have a batch of the Draught of Peace you had me prepare earlier. Maybe if we all just…”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Tonks, growling, not meeting my eyes. “Please continue.”
“I will say this though,” said Amelia imperiously. “There are several inconsistencies with what you are describing, and what I know is.”
She met my eyes. “A group of school-kids entering the Ministry of Magic late at night without adult supervision? They wouldn’t be able to get past the atrium without triggering the automated defences.”
“Unless someone neutered those enchantments, perhaps?” Hermione ventured.
Amelia snorted. “Going all the way to disable the Ministry wardstones just to allow someone, or many, I suppose, to trespass at night like that? If that is what truly happened, I’m not sure whether to commend Lucius and his ilk for their dedication, or their foolishness. If the idea was to ensure that Harry here went to the Department of Mysteries to pluck a prophecy orb—” She met my gaze, as if challenging me to refute her. “There are far easier methods to get it done.”
I met her gaze, expecting a Legilimency intrusion.
There was none.
“Yes. Voldemort’s plots are often stupidly convoluted. I’m not sure if that's just his paranoia, or his experience from years of dealing with Dumbledore.”
“Hmm, so there is a prophecy,” murmured Narcissa. “I recall something like that back in the last war.”
“For obvious reasons, I shall be redacting the exact wording of the Prophecy, and continue the story,” I said, leading them through my description of Voldemort’s rise to power in Harry’s sixth year, followed by the war at the end of the seventh. I alluded to horcruxes without mentioning details, and after another hour and a half, I finished giving them a rough idea of the war that happened in Harry’s seventh year. I alluded to the scar several times, improvising midway to suit my aims. My throat was getting parched and my voice was growing hoarse from speaking constantly.
“The Dark Lord… attacked Hogwarts and destroyed it,” murmured Narcissa. “All those… All those students… my son…”
Ah yes, that little titbit. I might have twisted the canon seventh-year battle slightly, describing that it was Malfoy and not Goyle that fell into the Fiendfyre he had cast to kill me.
“Show me!” She said, an undercurrent of steel in her tone. If not for Occlumency, she likely would have panicked by now. “I demand you to show me! Show me that memory!”
“I… can’t.”
“Why?” she barked. “If what you’re saying is true, if you lived it then — unless — unless you’re—”
“He cannot show it,” said Emmeline loudly, surprising me. “I have been in his mindscape. Whatever this incubus power is, I don’t quite understand it well. But it has kept his memories of his previous time locked. I cannot even fathom what sort of magic did that.”
“Perhaps something to do with time-travelling?” suggested Amelia quietly. Unlike the others, hers was thoughtful and calculating. It was obvious that she didn’t think me to be delusional, and it was equally clear that she was matching the changes she had observed in me during his visit, versus what she knew of me originally, versus whatever she was hearing from me right now.
“...Perhaps,” I said, shrugging. “Emmeline has looked into it, and I’ll defer to her expertise.”
Emmeline preened. Truly, the woman was as proud as they came. No wonder her patronus was a swan.
“There is something I don’t quite understand,” said Emmeline after staying silent for a long, long time. “You survived the Dark Lord’s killing curse again? Are you… immune to it?”
“No,” I admitted. “There’s more to my relative immunity to that curse, but I ain’t going into details.”
“Nor should you,” said Amelia. “As it stands, you are divulging way too much.”
Anastasia frowned. “Can you at least tell us what happened afterwards?”
I barked out a laugh. “Yes. I lost. We lost. Horribly. Albus Dumbledore’s great plan of pushing me to suicide against Voldemort backfired spectacularly. Knowing him, he probably wanted me to repeat the feat that my mother did for me, granting the people of Great Britain immunity from Voldemort.”
“That’s…. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” sneered Narcissa. “I’ll be the first to claim the superiority of sacrificial magic against standard spellcraft, but one life, even if it is the famous Boy-Who-Lived, cannot make everyone else immune to the Dark Lord’s magic. Perhaps he could’ve replicated his mother’s actions for the person he loved most, but everyone else… No fucking way!”
“That’s Albus Dumbledore for you,” grumbled Hestia.
Tonks gave her a sharp look.
“What happened to us?” asked Amelia. “From your tale, it’s evident that you were nowhere near as close and connected to each of us back in your original timeline. How did we… end up?”
Dying, she didn’t say. She didn’t need to say it.
I met her eyes. “You were killed in your own manor in sixth year. Susan survived, but the Bones manor was burned down to the ground. Corban Yaxley rose to the Director position soon after.”
Amelia sneered, though it was likely not meant for me.
“Rufus Scrimgeour had been elected war-time Minister back in my sixth year after Fudge resigned. Voldemort killed him, placed an imperiused pawn on the High Chair, and took over Britain in a single day. With Dumbledore dead, you gone, and the other Order members either hiding, captured or dead, there was literally no resistance. The Death-Eaters set up a Muggle Born Registration Commision, routed up all the halfbloods and muggleborns, and sentenced that they were stealing magic from the purebloods.”
I met Tonks’ eyes.
“All of them were fed to dementors by Voldemort’s Ministry.”
Shock flitted through the metamorph’s eyes as she registered what I was alluding to.
It made me smile.
I should probably try to be a nicer person.
“Hestia and Emmeline were killed in a Death-Eater attack back in my sixth year. I didn’t know either of them well, and I won’t go into details, but let’s just say that Dumbledore knew of the attack, but did nothing to maintain the security of his spy inside Death Eater Camp.”
That broke the camel’s back.
“HE WHAT?” Emmeline roared, shooting up. I winced, realising that I had omitted that little bit back when I had given the Cliff’s Notes version of my ‘struggle’ to Emmeline at Greengrass Manor.
“This — this can’t be true!” Tonks murmured, her eyes white with terror and denial. “This — it cannot be—”
“Be what? True?” It was my turn to sneer at the obnoxiously stubborn metamorph. “You have been in the Order for what… a year? Two? Tell me what your blasted Order has achieved in all this while! Aside from setting up dossiers to distribute to fellow members about the Boy-Who-Lived they’re constantly tracking!”
“That’s for YOUR OWN PROTECTION!”
“Yes, you gotta protect the pig before you can slaughter him!”
Tonks reeled.
“You’ve probably grown up with stories from your mummy and daddy about what it was to live through the last war. I? I’ve been in a war like that, only worse than the one they talk about. You know what I’ve seen, Nymphadora Tonks? I’ve seen families destroyed, houses burned. I’ve had friends stay awake night after night, listening to the Wireless, hoping that they don’t hear news of their friends and families being summarily put to death by the people they elected to power. Kingsley Shacklebolt! Alastor Moody! Remus Lupin! The weasley twins, it goes on and on. You yourself were tortured for a month before they dropped you naked, defiled and dead in the middle of Diagon Alley. And at Hogwarts, muggleborns were captured, raped in the dungeons, and then discarded like useless lumps of —”
“ENOUGH!” Tonks screamed, shutting her eyes and ears. “STOP!”
“Why?” I sneered. “Don’t want the truth anymore? Or maybe you just don’t want to believe that your great infallible Dumbledore isn’t so infallible? It’s been sixteen years since my parents were slaughtered by that madman and a fluke allowed Britain respite from him. Sixteen years! And yet, nothing has changed! Nothing! So many were able to escape punishment for their crimes by crying the Imperius defence! Free to continue causing the same problems in society.”
The audience was obviously in several stages of shock as they tried processing what I had shared with them over the past two and a half hours. It was obvious that they believed me, even Tonks, and it was equally obvious that my tale had shook them to the core.
“You have a single Ministry-controlled media outlet in focus that prints whatever the Ministry likes. The same people were in power! The same bias towards muggleborn, with the same people sitting at the Wizengamot with the same beliefs as their predecessors! Tell me, just what has your fucking Order of the Phoenix done for this country?”
Narcissa looked distinctly uncomfortable.
And you know what? I can’t even blame that man! He just does what he thinks best because of morons like you that put him on that pedestal, let him pretend he’s Merlin reborn, and follow him like sheep!”
‘And now you want everyone to follow you?” Anastasia asked curiously.
“I don’t need anyone to follow me,” I said, my expression cold and distant. “I have only one goal, to crush Lord Voldemort, destroy Wizarding Britain and rebuild it.”
“Destroy —” Tonks began, alarmed.
“Destroy!” I repeated. “You wanted to know what I was doing at the Quidditch World Cup, right? Here’s the truth for you. I am connected to Lord Voldemort through this scar. I was able to draw out his knowledge and skill in Necromancy to resurrect the DMLE Director back to life. That’s why you have her sitting right here, instead of being just another statistic in the list of those dead in the World Cup. I forced the spirits of the dead and used their wrath to bind them into transforming them into an army to hunt their killers.”
“I had heard rumours,” began Anastasia softly, eyeing me and Amelia. “Spectres of the dead fighting the werewolves…”
“Without them, we would all have perished,” said Amelia without hesitation. “Without Harry’s intervention, we would have already lost.”
“Lucius Malfoy is dead,” I said, and Narcissa looked alarmed. “I killed him, with my own two hands, and forced him to write off the Malfoy fortune to Draco, making it look like he’s out in the wind.”
“You — you —” Tonks began, unable to accept the surreality of what I was saying. “But the Director —”
“Dead people are notorious at not leaving evidence of their death,” Hestia quipped. “I imagine the Ministry can pull off the fugitive status for a year or more.”
“More,” said Amelia dispassionately, giving a harsh look at Narcissa who happily ignored her.
“It’s just the beginning,” I said. “I’ll raid and destroy Azkaban. I’ll tear down the Wizengamot, take the bigotry festering deep within its dark heart and rip it out. When I am done, there won’t be any conservative, moderate or extremist factions left. Just magic and those that can wield it. And from the ashes, I will build a new world. One that knows not what it’s lost but only what it’s been given. A grateful world.”
“You’d —” Nymphadora stammered. “You’re talking about throwing this world into another war! You — you are —”
“No, just ending the previous one,” I sneered. “This time for good.”
Comments
doryn
nice
Larry
thanks great chapter
Hadrian v.E.
I had a distinct hope that this chapter would be a tell and show, with the show section consisting of Harry fucking all of the women in front of Nym 😆.
Elton2K Dre
Loved the homage to Thanos lol.
frosty gamur
wow
Dylan Pullock
I mean, Harry has a point. Same shit, same smell even 16 years later. The extreme pacifists making it impossible to fight back, the extreme bigots taking advantage, and the same idiot moderates enabling the whole sad saga. Destroying Wizarding Britain at this point is the only way to save the people of Wizarding Britain at this point. Having Harry as a leader with a cabal or council of individuals whose positions are earned and kept based on merit and ability would do wonders for the whole magic and those able to use it angle. No more suck ups, no more nepotism, no more bought politicians.
Alkole
Exactly ending the war for good instead of stopping it for a period of time
jp9901
And I'm here with a bucket of popcorn to watch it burn!
