Wanna read a chapter ahead? Join me on Discord for one advanced chapter! Discord code is vN7sTYhEp6.

  I am pnning to do a soft rewrite of this story to age up the characters by two years. I find myself constantly feeling like tearing my hair off as I write about immature brats dealing with grown-ups. I much prefer writing adults tbh.

  This will be a long-term project and won't end until te summer or so.

  This chapter was edited by Gdiusx.

  Greengrass Manor

  Harry rushed out of the firepce, nearly bumping into Tracey as she patted some dust from her sleeves.

  "Great, you're here. Now we need to–"

  The door to the foyer suddenly opened, and in came Mary Davis with her wand drawn. She showed no surprise, but the wand remained pointed at them.

  "How unexpected. What is your favourite brand of pop, Tracey?"

  "Schweppes, of course." Tracey answered instantly before her eyes widened. "Wait, you think I'm an impostor? Oh, come on, Mum! The wards would not have let me through in the first pce!"

  Mary Davis shrugged as she pocketed her wand. "Can never be too certain, and the two of you are supposed to be in Hogwarts. Now, what brings you and Harry here?" Suddenly, the blonde witch's brown eyes gleamed in mischief. "Oh my, did you need a private pce to–"

  "Mrs Davis, I'm sorry to barge in so suddenly, but it's an emergency." Normally, Harry would have enjoyed some banter, but his time was limited. "I need to speak to Mr Greengrass urgently."

  "Yes, Mum. It's very important." Tracey chipped in. "Could you please call him? I would summon Murdock, but Daddy doesn't allow us to call him when he's with him."

  Thankfully, Mary took their words seriously. "Murdock!"

  A light pop and an elderly elf dressed in an intricate toga appeared. "Mistress Mary calls for Murdock?"

  "Yes, dear. Are Apollo and Estelle free at the moment?"

  The elf shook his head. "Mistress Esty and Master Apollo have been deyed in the Ministry."

  "Thank you, Murdock. Remain here for a moment." Mary turned to him. "Harry, what exactly do you need from my husband?"

  Harry took a deep breath as he collected his thoughts and wondered how best to phrase his words, only to come short. How could he expin his pn and desire to save a mass murderer without sounding like a lunatic? Suddenly, Tracey squeezed his hand and grinned—the same grin as the one she had when she challenged him to a duel. He chuckled as he mustered his Gryffindor courage—scheming and beating around the bush had their time and pce, and this was neither.

  "I need to derail whatever the Minister wants the Daily Prophet to write in tomorrow's article." Mary's eyes widened, but Harry continued. "No, not just derail, I need to completely hijack it and utterly turn that rag on the Ministry. Drag their name through the mud to destroy any shred of credibility they have left!"

  "...I need a drink."

  .

  .

  .

  "How do you find the tea, my dear?"

  "As excellent as always, Mrs Davis. The slight spiciness brings the citrus taste to a higher level. Would it be possible for me to learn the recipe?"

  "I'm afraid not. Only Tracey and I know the blend." Mary Davis brought the teacup down from her lips and smiled at her daughter. "Perhaps you could convince her to tell you, but I prefer to keep such a recipe in the family."

  Harry huffed inwardly at the woman's insinuation and decided to stay silent. He pretended to ignore Tracey, wiggling her eyebrows at him in favour of enjoying the tea. It really was that good.

  It's been half an hour since Mary sent Murdock to his master with his message, and she had them wait on the terrace while she brewed them tea. Truthfully, Harry thought the witch would actually get some liquor, but it seemed her idea of a drink was more tame, as expected from the British.

  "Now, jokes aside, are you prepared for how to deal with Barnabas Cuffe, Harry?"

  He swiftly schooled his face at Mary's question. "I believe so. If your description of Cuffe holds any merit, he is the most unpleasant sort to deal with, but needs must."

  Murdock had popped back several times with messages from Apollo, and the final one was from ten minutes ago, where he warned he would be home soon with the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet as well as a journalist.

  "Indeed, but at least cousin Era will be here," Tracey chimed in. "She and Rita Skeeter have been feuding tely, and I'm sure she's pissed about losing the chance to write this morning's article."

  "That's good. I'm sure she would be satisfied with what interesting things I will have her write, then."

  "Ah, yes, the one about the attack on the train st night. I'm gd none of you were involved in that incident." Mary sighed in relief, though something seemed…off with her statement. As far as he could tell, no one in the Ministry knew he was involved, but still, something nagged at his senses, as if he was missing something. "And you will not show me even a hint of what you witnessed?"

  Harry filed away his uncertainty. "It's not really something I want to show several times. Better to wait until everyone is here and show it once."

  Suddenly, something prickled his ears, and Mary also perked up as she stood from her seat. "I suppose my curiosity is about to be sated. Apollo is here."

  Harry and Tracey followed the older woman inside the manor and to the foyer. Once Mary opened the door, they found Apollo Greengrass speaking to another thickset man with a flushed face, who could only be Barnabas Cuffe.

  "...Better be worth it, Apollo. You dragged me away just as I was about to meet with Cornelius. Do you have any idea how desperate the Minister would be?"

  "Desperate enough to personally go to your office instead of summoning you." Apollo chortled just as he saw them entering. "Ah, here's our guest of honour. Barny, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Barnabas Cuffe, editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet."

  "A pleasure to meet you, Mr Cuffe." Harry walked confidently to the gawking wizard, who clearly did not expect to see him here. He woodenly raised his hand for a handshake that Harry gripped firmly. The man looked quite old, possibly in his seventies or eighties, short and stout, yet his dark eyes gleamed with cunning as he quickly recovered.

  "Harry Potter! I must say, of all the people I expected to find here, you were not even on the list." Cuffe shook his hands for a moment before gncing shrewdly at Apollo. "I did not know you were acquainted with the Boy Who Lived, Apollo."

  "He is a dear friend of my daughters, one that I approve of. I find him to be a respectable and capable young wizard."

  "Is he now?" Barnabas Cuffe stared at him as if he were seeing him for the first time. "Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Harry Potter. Do you mind if I call you Harry?"

  "Not at all, Mr Cuffe. I apologise for asking Apollo to bring you here on short notice, but I'm afraid it was necessary."

  "Necessary, eh? While I would love to sit around and make small talk with you, Harry, you must understand that I have several appointments and a lot of work to do." Barnabas Cuffe groaned, and his tone turned righteous, "The people depend on me to give them the truth, and I have done so each day for years, for lives depend on it! Why, if it were not for the Daily Prophet…"

  Harry maintained a polite smile, acting as if he completely sympathised with the man as he went on a tangent about how great and reliable his newspaper was, despite the urge to wash his hands lest he get infected by such perfidy and deviousness. This was possibly the slimiest and least trustworthy man he had ever met. Gncing at Apollo's eyes, Harry could tell through his polite smile that he did not particurly like the man either.

  Realising that he needed to take the initiative and not waste time, Harry interrupted, "I'm sure you are a busy man, Mr Cuffe, so I shall not waste yours or my time. I understand the Minister has a big say on what shall be written in tomorrow's edition."

  "Indeed. That is why I am expecting the Minister in my office soon. Cornelius had already interfered in this morning's edition. Going around my back and giving an interview to Rita Skeeter about what happened yesterday, I had no choice but to publish what he gave us, for we had no other sources to use. Rita is usually more careful and astute; I wonder if Cornelius holds some leverage over her?" Cuffe bemoaned before giving him a sly look. "Shouldn't you be in school, though? I am very curious to learn why you wanted to meet me so much. Even asking Apollo for help, he is not one to give aid meaninglessly."

  "Perhaps we should wait until my wife is here with my niece." Apollo chimed in as he grabbed both of their shoulders with a wide smile, one that did not reach his eyes. "Come, might as well stay for dinner, Barny."

  "Er, well, I wouldn't want to intrude. I mean, I do expect Cornelius in my office soon and–"

  "Dinner is nearly ready, Mr Cuffe." Mary bowed politely, Tracey beside her doing the same. "We can have tea afterwards. My special blend, of course."

  Surprisingly, that seemed to interest Barnabas Cuffe, but before he could decide, the firepce fred green and out came Estelle Greengrass, followed by a familiar young witch. Era Evergreen's emerald eyes shifted around the foyer in confusion before falling on him and shining mischievously, looking so much like an older version of Daphne that Harry couldn't help but gulp in trepidation.

  "Oh, Harry! So good to see you, dear." Estelle practically skipped over and hugged him tightly before kissing his cheeks—Harry did his best to ignore the hammering of his heart and his no doubt burning blush from the unexpected sign of affection. "You have to tell me all about what you've been up to, especially how my daughters' first day back in school was."

  "Y-Yes, Mrs Green–"

  "Tut-tut, what did I tell you about calling me that?"

  "Not to, Estelle." Harry coughed and quickly recovered as he hugged the woman back lightly. "I would love to talk to you more about how Astoria and Daphne are doing in school, but I'm afraid I will need to trouble Mr Cuffe with something important for now. Perhaps Tracey would be a better option?"

  Harry gnced sideways at his friend, who took that chance to approach her second mother. Estelle instantly grabbed her and gave her another tight hug.

  "I'm gd you are both safe and sound, even more so that you did not get involved with yesterday's lunacy." Once again, Harry felt confused, but Estelle grabbed him in another hug, dragging him and Tracey closer. "Know that you are always welcome in our home. Why, this is almost your second home now."

  Estelle's amethyst eyes shined before subtly cocking her head towards Cuffe. Harry grinned inwardly at the woman's antics—while she had always been loving and kind to him, this time was a bit more on the nose. Judging by Cuffe's scrutinising gaze, Harry wagered the man finally understood that he had the full backing of House Greengrass. "Ah, yes, I'm sure you've met Era before?"

  The reporter took this chance and stepped forward with a handshake. "We meet again, Mr Potter. I barely managed to get a few minutes of your time in Diagon Alley when we st met. Hopefully, we will have a lot more time tonight."

  "I certainly pray so." Harry shook the young woman's hand before turning to the lord of the house, who nodded.

  "Splendid! Now that we are all here, I don't know about you, but I'm famished. Come, Barny. Let's get some food in our bellies, then we can discuss important matters over tea."

  The editor-in-chief took one st gnce at Harry before nodding and allowing Apollo to lead him to the dining room, all the while chatting with him about the turmoil in the Ministry—Tracey waved at him before following her mother to the kitchen. Before Harry could follow, Estelle grabbed his arm and dragged him and Era to the side.

  "This is quite the surprise, Harry." Estelle began, her smile dimming, and Harry sensed worry and uncertainty. "I won't lie to you; Apollo spent a lot of influence to drag Cuffe so suddenly from his office. I even called in several favours to cover for me in the Ministry and had to cancel a dinner invitation for peers from the Wizengamot."

  "I am truly sorry, Estelle. Believe me when I say I feel terrible for abusing the aid and hospitality of your family, but I had nowhere else to go." The Greengrasses did say they were willing to offer him any aid for helping Astoria, as well as the unspoken alliance between them, but it was still incredibly rude to barge into their home so suddenly and practically demand their help. "I could not think of anyone else with enough influence to help me with what needed to be done."

  "And what is it that you need to do, Harry?"

  "Save Narcissa Bck from Azkaban. Or, at least, make sure she gets a fair trial. I owe her that much."

  His decration was naturally met with incredulous stares from the two women, the younger of them looking conflicted, as if she was fighting the urge to start writing everything he said or stay silent while her aunt-in-w spoke.

  "You understand she is accused of murdering thirteen people, correct?"

  "Oh, I have no doubt she killed them. I've seen it with my own eyes, after all." Harry produced the omniocurs from his mokeskin pouch. "But I am certain we could control the narrative somewhat. Make it seem like self-defence or that it was a grieving mother retaliating against the corrupt Ministry."

  "Grieving?" Estelle looked confused, and the earlier bad feeling threatened to consume Harry—this was getting ridiculous! But the pale-haired witch shook her head and waved at the other witch. "We will talk more about that ter. Luckily, I managed to grab Era from her haunt in the Ministry before coming here—Mary was not clear, but you need a reporter's expertise, right?"

  "Yes. I've read what Skeeter writes, and she did not impress me." Harry turned to the so far silent dark-haired witch. "What do you think? Would it be possible to work with Cuffe on this?"

  "Damn, that's going to be a tough sell to Cuffe." Era whistled. "Or perhaps not. The man lives off controversy and scandals, twisting the truth so much that it hardly resembles the facts. Whatever would line his pockets most, he will publish; the people love reading controversies, after all."

  "And yet you work for such a man?"

  "Not really. All reporters are freence and get paid by the article." Era shrugged. "I write for Witch Weekly and a couple of other tabloids, but there really isn't any other alternative when it comes to quality press aside from the Daily Prophet. It's the only one sponsored by the Ministry, and any official decrees or edicts are announced through it."

  "And the people actually trust it?" Harry asked aghast. "Despite knowing it's a mouthpiece of the Ministry?!"

  "Why shouldn't they?" Estelle answered. "You have to understand, Harry, that for the average witch and wizard, the Ministry of Magic is the only entity they can fully trust—aside from Hogwarts, of course. After all, it is the single rgest employer in the country."

  "The only people who believe the Ministry is stifling them are the old and powerful families, who already have their own power bases, and don't need any oversight from the Ministry," Era added helpfully. "And they are barely a tenth of all purebloods."

  "So the Ministry has a monopoly on information. Even more of a reason for me to get Cuffe on my side."

  "Exactly. After all, no matter how truthful or interesting an article I write, without a lot of prep work, no one will take me seriously if I write for, say, the Quibbler."

  Harry disagreed; while Xenophilius Lovegood was an eccentric wizard, his daughter Luna was quite intelligent. He enjoyed the article she wrote for him despite the little attention it brought. He thought for sure his name would bring readers, but perhaps that wasn't enough—reporters and writers gathered a following, almost cult-like. Luna was a twelve-year-old, a smart one to be certain, but still a complete unknown.

  Still, that gave him an idea. "Can you write the same article for several publishers?"

  "Yes, though I will have to work with each of their editors. What is acceptable for them to publish and what not."

  "That's fine, you will still get my name on the articles. Not to mention having the first pick on evidence that was not avaible even to the DMLE." Harry added before a thought came to him. "Will Cuffe make trouble for you if you decide to publish the article elsewhere?"

  "Naturally, but I'm not some random reporter, you know." Era grinned wickedly as she stood beside Estelle. "I do have some backing, so you don't need to worry about that. Just focus on giving me the biggest scoop you have, and I'll rock the world for you!"

  "Oh, I'll give you a scoop, alright. Maybe even more." Harry chuckled. "But first, whatever happened to the witnesses? Their testimony would help greatly with the evidence I will provide."

  "Fudge got to most of them, and suddenly, they were not interested in giving any testimony." Estelle shrugged. "Truthfully, we do not know much about what happened, and he is the biggest obstacle against anything you want published—Cuffe cannot exactly ignore the Minister for Magic, after all. Fudge had been adamant about having a dementor give Narcissa Malfoy a kiss and avoid any trials, but when he tried to force one into St Mungo's, without the DMLE's blessings, the Head Healer banished him and the monsters away."

  Harry whistled inwardly; Edward Tonks was not to be trifled with, that was certain. He would need to get the full details from Chiara, as she had neglected to mention that in her letter.

  "Anyway, I think we have deyed long enough." Era coughed, and Harry's sensitive hearing caught the young witch's stomach grumbling, causing him to smirk inwardly. "Shouldn't we hurry with dinner? If we are going to view the evidence and then write an article, we will need to be quick to catch tomorrow's edition."

  "Yes, let's go." Estelle led them to the dining table, finding Apollo and Cuffe chatting just as Mary and Tracey entered through another door, levitating several trays of food.

  .

  .

  .

  "So, Harry. You never expined how you managed to sneak out of school," Cuffe suddenly asked after dinner. "I doubt Dumbledore would appreciate one of his students sneaking out, especially in such dire times."

  Harry paused as he was about to bite into a biscuit before ignoring the subtle accusation and poor attempt at provocation. He dipped the biscuit in his tea once more before eating it whole, all the while gazing at Cuffe as he chewed loudly.

  They were already done eating, a scrumptious feast of bicorn steak that the Greengrasses reared on one of their ranches, and were having dessert in one of the drawing rooms. Dinner was pleasant enough as Apollo pyed host and entertained them. So far, the Greengrass Lord had purposely avoided any discussion of business in favour of buttering Cuffe up, but now that they were sitting for tea, it seemed the time had come to get to the meat of the matter.

  And Barnabas Cuffe had apparently decided to begin by testing him. With their hosts silently watching, Harry swallowed his biscuit and answered the old wizard.

  "I asked the headmaster for a favour, of course," Harry said, giving Cuffe his most innocent smile, making the man choke and start to spin some wild tale in his mind. "But that's not really important, now. Shall we get straight to business?"

  "Ah, business. I'm all for that, if only I get to know what you want from me."

  Cuffe gnced over at Apollo, who simply remained silent. Harry did not miss the gesture. The man still thought he was dealing with Lord Greengrass, not some wet-behind-the-ears schoolboy. While it irked him, Harry could use that to his advantage.

  "It's not what you can do for me but what I can do for you, Mr Cuffe." The man's smile remained stiff, but Harry could tell he had his attention. "You mentioned the Minister interfered in this morning's article."

  "I did mention that, but we in the Daily Prophet care deeply about the truth, even if it's missing some elements."

  "Some elements? That's an understatement." Harry scoffed in disdain. "As someone involved in the dementor attack, I assure you it was missing a lot of crucial information."

  "Oh? And what information are you alluding to?"

  Harry grinned inwardly—finally, some actual interest from the man. So far, Cuffe had been controlling himself well through Occlumency, yet if even Dumbledore couldn't hide his emotions from his senses, what hope did some unscrupulous journalist have? Barnabas Cuffe thought him a time-wasting fool eager for information, but it was the opposite.

  "For one, Rita Skeeter seemed to focus far too much on Hogsmeade despite the attack happening on the Hogwarts Express. Second, while she did mention a murder on the train, she failed to identify who was killed and how; the students had to learn from the staff that it was Draco Malfoy."

  Cuffe's eyes slightly widened, and it wasn't just him; Apollo, who was in the middle of lighting his pipe, paused while Era, who had been writing everything down on her note with a pencil, pressed too hard and broke the tip. Harry gnced at Estelle and Mary, finding simir looks of confusion and shock, and then, it was his turn to gawk.

  "You…didn't know. None of you did!" He finally uttered in shock and rubbed his brows as they nodded; bloody hell! This was what he was worried about. Skeeter's article was extremely bare-bones, but he wagered it was simply because the events had happened so te—apparently, Fudge was even more insidious than he thought.

  "Well, I can hardly have any of my reporters on the train." Cuffe chuckled sardonically. "Not even in Hogsmeade, and by the time I sent Rita there, the Ministry was in full force, banishing the dementors and barely provided us any information. Cornelius himself barged into my office and demanded to review whatever Rita was going to write, citing some obscure w about Emergency Powers."

  "Ah, the headmaster mentioned that. He even told me that Fudge illegally pced a gag order on Hogwarts, preventing the students and their parents from communicating."

  "He did what?" Apollo Greengrass uttered coldly. So far, the Greengrass Lord had entertained his sudden whim and request without compint, but Harry could tell that Apollo was irritated, no, he was furious at the suddenness of it all, especially at such a crucial time. Now, however, he leaned forward with his undivided attention, puffing on his pipe in agitation. "I think we need to have a much more in-depth discussion about what happened on the Express and the Ministry."

  Harry nodded, even if he was groaning inwardly, as there was no way he could hide his involvement with the dementors. He wished he had more time and had met with Apollo much earlier. Instead, he had to rely on the man backing him up blindly, which, while significantly increasing the respect Harry held for the lord, was hardly practical.

  "Perhaps it would be better to let us expin what we do know first," Mary weighed in. "This way, we could corroborate and make sure we have the full picture."

  "Good idea, honey." Apollo smiled at his wife before frowning. "To tell the truth, however, we of the Wizengamot do not know much aside from Narcissa Malfoy invading the Ministry st night, destroying the Atrium, murdering twelve wizards and kidnapping Dolores Umbridge to an unknown pce, leaving naught but her severed hand holding her wand. Barny, would you like to share your input?"

  "Yes, that sounds about right. Cornelius ordered Dumbledore to retrieve Dolores. His position of Chief Warlock allows the Minister to command him in emergencies, you see." Cuffe added at Tracey's confused look. "Sadly, he was too te and found her dead from a Druidic ritual, but he did apprehend Narcissa Malfoy yet brought her to St Mungo's instead of the DMLE holding cells as Fudge demanded. If her son had indeed been the one murdered st night, then it expins why she went mad."

  "Harry? Would you like to add more?"

  "Aye, plenty. To sum it up, dementors attacked both sides of the train st night. I managed to beat the ones at the front, but the others managed to kiss Snape. Malfoy flung himself from the train instead of letting his soul be sucked." Harry pulled out the omniocurs and then rummaged in his pouch until he found the projector Dumbledore lent him. "This is footage of Narcissa's attack on the Ministry."

  "Oh? How did you get hold of something like that?" Cuffe looked mighty interested and leaned forward in excitement. "As far as I know, there were no witnesses to the attack—aside from the handful who hid in the Minister's office and could not leave until Cornelius arrived and unsealed the door. I don't know what he told them, but they all remained tight-lipped about whatever happened st night."

  "Fudge did well hiding the skeletons in his closet, but there was another witness who saw everything and sent me this omniocurs." Harry was gd that Eleanor did not appear in the footage aside from her Patronus—while Amelia Bones did take her into custody, she was not charged with anything and merely pced under house arrest for her safety. How Dumbledore managed to get the omniocurs would be a mystery, but the headmaster was as cunning as he was resourceful. "This is a record of Umbridge confessing to some serious crimes. Something I am certain the Minister would love to bury. If we could use an empty room, I can use this projector to py it, though I warn you—it is not for the faint of heart."

  "Brilliant! Let's go see it at once." Cuffe stood excitedly before bowing apologetically to Lord Greengrass. "Apollo, if you could please provide us with a room?"

  Lord Greengrass nodded and led them to an empty room, where Harry set up the projector and bronze disk holding the footage. Mary had not wanted her daughter to see the footage, but Tracey simply expined it was too te, much to all three of her parents' dismay.

  Regardless, Harry pyed the footage and watched everyone's reactions…which turned out to be completely anticlimactic as all four adults had good control over their minds.

  In fact, the only reaction of sorts came from Era, and she only grimaced at Narcissa's opening curse before watching on with morbid curiosity. A childish and mischievous part of Harry was disappointed that none of them so much as went green in the face, let alone puked—witches and wizards were made of sterner stuff, it seemed.

  It was a few minutes ter when the projector stopped and Apollo bid him to repack it and led them back to the drawing room—another pot of tea and a pte of biscuits awaited them courtesy of Murdock.

  "Well, that certainly was enlightening." Cuffe huffed in bemusement, not at all feeling the slightest bit disturbed by the brutal deaths he had just witnessed. "Now, how about we get on with what you want from me?"

  Harry leaned forward in his seat, focusing so deeply on the unscrupulous wizard that he could feel the temperature in the room fall, and Cuffe involuntarily shivered.

  "I need you to drag Dolores Umbridge's name through the mud. Make her out to be the terrible and evil hag that she is. I want all the bme for the attack on the Hogwarts Express to be pced on her shoulders, which would naturally present Narcissa Bck as a grieving mother seeking justice, if in a bit of a heavy-handed manner." Barnabas Cuffe blinked at him as if not believing what he had just heard, but Harry was not done. "All the while, don't forget to mention how everything Umbridge did was approved by Cornelius Fudge. Mention it often and loudly."

  "T-This is preposterous! Do you want the Minister to close the Prophet? Attacking his closest aide so btantly, especially after her brutal murder…You're asking for the impossible. Dolores Umbridge had plenty of friends who would surely do their damnedest to make my life miserable if I ever publish such a–"

  "Cut the dragon dung, Barny. I know you don't give a rat's ass to some dead bitch with no support," Harry growled in frustration; the man was an excellent actor and nearly had him believe his panic if not for his senses—amusement and glee at an opportunity to profit reeked from him like a sewer. "Even Fudge doesn't care for her as much as he pretends to. All this fuss he's making is desperation to disavow himself from his subordinate's mistakes."

  As he expected, Cuffe's panicked look melted away like snow in the desert to be repced with a completely bnk expression. This time, the man had completely sunk into an Occlumency trance, yet Harry could smell the unease and anger in him.

  "Be that as it may, I do not see a benefit in embellishing what Narcissa Malfoy has done. She is still a lunatic who did what not even the Dark Lord had succeeded in—attacking the Ministry and succeeding in kidnapping a high-ranking employee before murdering them in a heathen ritual."

  "Heathen?" Apollo's tune was full of amusement. "Come now, Barny. You sound like a Muggle preacher."

  "Perhaps so, yet the fact remains. I simply cannot condone such murder in my paper."

  "Do you have to?" Harry shrugged. "All you will be doing is reporting on what happened and letting the public decide whether her actions were justified or not. The people already know from previous editions of your paper how the Minister decred his full confidence in his Senior Undersecretary, and Umbridge herself bragged about her control of the dementors."

  "True…but what about the twelve men murdered on Ministry premises?"

  Harry leaned back on his seat, pced his right foot on his left knee, and zily grabbed a biscuit. "What about them?"

  "Those were respectable members of society! You saw the footage, they were brutally murdered, and the witch struck first!"

  "Are you certain, Mr Cuffe? From my perspective, Narcissa entered the Ministry to submit a compint but was cruelly wayid by a band of thugs who were trespassing in the Ministry. The records will attest that Narcissa wore a guest badge with her intent bzoned on it—I should know, for I received a simir badge when I first visited the premises."

  "True. I certainly saw 'Justice' written on it." Mary chimed in—Tracey sat beside her with a cheshire grin on her face. "Also, you say those twelve men were respectable members of society, but have you actually identified them?"

  "Well, no, but–"

  "I know they were not Aurors nor any members of the DMLE," Estelle interrupted innocently. "Rumour has it, Dolores Umbridge had sneaked them in as her personal guard, yet she used them to threaten proper, respectable members of society into following her inane demands."

  "How did you even know about–"

  "We have been in the Ministry all day, Barny." Apollo chortled. "Fudge might have threatened the witnesses with losing their jobs if they talked to a reporter, but they eagerly talked to us when we offered our support."

  Barnabas Cuffe sighed, and this time, Harry knew he had him—the man was just arguing for the sake of it at this point. "There is still the fact that Narcissa Malfoy–"

  "Bck."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "She's Narcissa Bck now, haven't you heard? Lucius had divorced her, but Draco insisted on having her as his regent since she was his mother. With his death, the marriage had been annulled; it was as if it never happened." Harry gnced at Era, who had been frantically writing down notes—she must have already written three feet's worth of parchment in her notebook. "Something else for you to put in the article, Era. I believe the steward of the Malfoy estate shall make an announcement soon about his hunt for the new Lord Malfoy. This is off the record, but Pius Thicknesse mentioned he knows of an heir to the Malfoy fortune."

  "Is that information credible?" Cuffe asked suddenly, and Harry scoffed inwardly—truly, he cared nought but for controversies and scandals, so long as they didn't bite him in the back.

  "From a highly respected source that I do not believe it wise to mention his name."

  "Naturally, I shall take your word, Harry." Barnabas Cuffe fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. "I cannot directly attack the Minister, and there is no doubt he will have his own demands when I meet him ter. However, you are correct that the te and mented Dolores had no friends, only allies—destroying her reputation would be simple, for she had already dug her own grave."

  "That's fine by me, but beware that if the article is not up to par, Era has agreed to publish it in other press. I'm sure Witch Weekly would love to write about the tragic tale of the mother who took down the evil and conniving bitch who killed her son and hid behind the duplicitous Minister."

  "Certainly, Era has every right to do so." Cuffe stared coldly at the dark-haired witch. "Yet I cannot be bmed if I happen to favour Rita more often."

  "Remember yourself, Barny. This is my niece you are talking to." Apollo returned with an even colder voice. "It is just as simple for me to start a newspaper of my own. Fudge is a drowning man clinging to a rotten log. With the Ministry scrambling to clean up this mess, I'm certain I can get in touch with several of my peers about starting our own association."

  "Oh, I would love to join that." Harry grinned. "I even have an idea for the first article. 'Harry Potter and that time I swallowed the snitch during my first Quidditch match'."

  "The fans will love it." Tracey snickered. "Not just Quidditch fans, but all of your fans. Oh, how about this for the second article? 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of–'"

  "Alright! I got the message," Cuffe grumbled. "I'll publish your damn article, but you owe me, Harry Potter!"

  "I beg your pardon?!" Harry stood up in outrage. "I offer you the biggest scoop you've had since Sirius Bck escaping Azkaban, and you cim I owe you? I should be the one demanding a cut from the profits!"

  For once, Barnabas Cuffe smiled genially. It was a true smile of levity and mirth. "You want a cut of the profits? I would gdly give it to you. How about we sign a contract and–"

  "That's enough, Barny. I'm sure you can trust Era to interview Harry about his experience on the train as well as anything else we could have missed." Apollo went to the door and urged, "Come now. I'm certain Fudge has already chewed through his fingernails from worry as he waits for you."

  "True, I wager leaving him for an hour in anguish is long enough," Cuffe excused himself and offered his hand to Harry. "It was a pleasure, Harry Potter. I must admit that I did not know what to expect from you. Your reckless stunt in the Ministry a few months ago painted a picture of a child throwing a tantrum to get what he wanted."

  "Oh?" Harry squeezed the man's hand firmly. "Do you still think I'm like that?"

  "Absolutely! Except this time, you know to do so in private instead of in front of a dozen department heads." Cuffe chuckled as he walked to Estelle and Mary next and kissed their offered hands. "A pleasure to meet you as always, My Ladies. You, too, young dy." He added to Tracey before turning to the door, but suddenly paused. "Do satisfy my curiosity, Harry. Why go so far?"

  "Pardon?"

  "For Narcissa Bck. Why go so far for a penniless widow from a dead house who has nothing to offer you? She's still in a coma, right? You don't even know if she would appreciate all you are doing for her."

  "It's simple, really. I owe her a debt, and I am no honourless cur to forget them when convenient."

  "I see." For a moment, Barnabas Cuffe stared at him strangely, as if he wanted to say more, before shaking his head and walking away. "Apollo, after you."

  Once the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet left, Harry turned to Estelle in slight confusion. "Why was he so eager to include me in any profits of his paper?"

  "Because, contrary to its name, the Daily Prophet does not, in fact, make any profit." Estelle chortled. "It's completely backed by donations and Ministry sponsorship. If you had agreed to any contract, you would find yourself drowning in debt."

  Harry groaned as Tracey ughed loudly. He would have teased her if not for Era coughing, her emerald eyes shining in excitement. "I need to get this done before ten at the test if I want any chance to publish the article by morning. How about that interview?"

  He checked the time: it was nearly eight. They still needed to pick up Hermione from his home and then sneak back to Hogwarts. It had been a very long day so far. Gncing at Tracey, he found her yawning, as if mentioning the time reminded her they still had school tomorrow.

  "You can take a nap, Tracey. I will wake you when we finish."

  The blonde witch nodded as she rubbed her eyes. Mary smiled at him gratefully before ushering her daughter outside, leaving him with Era and Estelle. Daphne's mother poured him more tea as Era spread her notes on a table, and they got to work.

  Politics, intrigue, backroom deals…Oh my!

  Era met Harry officially off-screen. I mentioned it in chapter 46.

  I will admit I greatly enjoyed writing this chapter. This is the type of politicking I like to read and write. Keep in mind that there's a serious case of unreliable narrator going on in the background between all the characters—the fog of war, so to speak. Fudge is an insidious fellow and thrives in chaos…at least until the house of cards he built falls on his head.

  Reminds me of Baelish, actually, but without the obsession with red-headed trouts.

  Still, I cannot really cim this chapter is complete, as there was one more important scene to explore next time that I could not find the time (or energy) to write.

  Apollo ain't a chump. He has done a major favour here for Harry, and he will get his due.

  On a side note, I realise that these past few chapters would have hit far more if I had not written chapter 49.