Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The fight continued. The war, never-ending. The hopes of the Wizarding World still sat on the sagging shoulders of the Boy-Who-Lived.

The death count rose, both muggle and wizard alike. The Madman killed indiscriminately. His reach growing like cancer throughout Britain. Worried leaders from abroad watched nervously as the great leaders of the Light, like the vaunted Headmaster Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore, and the heroic Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the Savior Harry Potter, tried to cut off the head of the beast.

Even though his mentor was beside him, Harry felt that each death was on his head. Each life lost was his fault.

The longer the fight took, the more blood was on his hands.

Cedric’s death hit him hard. The lack of communication from all sides afterwards hurt even more.

Sirius, saved (barely) from the fight at the Ministry, held him tight when Remus and Tonks fell. The fact that she was newly pregnant broke the young man even more. The tears fell that night, and two hearts broke together. He did have a support system, of sorts. People who cheered him through the trials of fighting The Monster. People who comforted him when his friends fell during the fighting.

Some of these people even had his best interests at heart.

This is not a story about those people.

In the Headmaster’s office, Hermione Granger listened to the group discuss her friend, her boyfriend (?), her self-inflicted duty. She (mostly) stood by him. Best friend, sorta-girlfriend (ok, less than ‘sorta’ - more like fiancée, really. The boy really wanted so much from her! Ugh.), conscience, mother, handler, and any other position that she could fill in his life to make herself indispensable. She didn’t agree with all the actions he was now doing during the war. (The diminishing desire to listen to her. The way he lost any desire to always follow the rules. The thirst for the blood of Voldemort always on his tongue. – She wouldn’t say You-Know-Who anymore if Harry had the guts to call him by his name; she was just as strong and brave as the Boy-Who-Lived, maybe more. – And now, Harry was hell-bent on following the craving for revenge. The diminishing desire to… listen to her and follow her instructions!) She watched him change (still highly disagreeing with most of his actions), but she stayed. She knew he needed her. She knew that, afterwards, she would be the one to put him back together in a better way, showing the Wizarding World that they had fought. They had won. They were the future, and the changes would come.

Harry would back her on overhauling the rights to various creatures and help her implement changes she wanted to see in the Ministry and the Wizarding World. He would help her achieve the heights that she was due. (Just because she was a muggleborn, didn’t mean that she should worship at the altar of the purebloods. It was just distasteful and not democratic.) Just because Harry was distracted now, she knew he would move toward her way of thinking as soon as this whole Voldemort nonsense was taken care of.

Sirius, on the other hand, she could probably do without. She felt sorry for him, sure. Poor man didn’t get the justice he deserved. (She even broke the law by helping him escape to prove herself as an ally to Harry!) But, feeling sorry for him didn’t change the fact that the man really wasn’t in his right mind. He didn’t follow the rules. He wasn’t respectable. He wasn’t predictable.

But… she could work with that. Stuck in Grimmauld Place, as he currently was, there was no escape to the outside world for the condemned escapee. But! She could change everything, with the right help from Harry pushing his influence after the war.

After all, the world loved a redemption story.

Ron Weasley figured that this was pretty much the weirdest bunch of people meeting in one place that he had ever seen. There were people who he trusted with his life (his mother, father, sister, and three of his five brothers… Hermione), and there were blood-sworn enemies of his family (the *shudder* Malfoys) and, rounding out the group of strangeness, there were members of the Order of the Phoenix and the illustrious Headmaster Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore. Oh, and he just noticed The Greasy Dungeon Bat (Professor Snape, Ronald!) sitting in the corner, glaring at all attendees to this motley crew.

Keeping his mouth shut, an odd thing for him to normally do, he listened and let the words of the others wash over him…

“That is too much power for one person to have, Albus…”

“He should have been more under watch. He’s getting too independent. Too curious…”

“The wrongs he has done far outweigh the rights.”

“But he’s just a boy…”

“Oh, Molly, bless you for your ignorance in thinking that this boy is good, but you need to hear the truth. We need a plan…”

He didn’t care about the different words surrounding him. He only cared about the outcome he was promised: fame, wealth, and Hermione. And he craved Hermione. She was his first. She just got misled by the sparkle surrounding the Chosen One. She would come around. They promised him.

If anything, they would make her come around.

Severus Snape’s sneer curled his upper lip more and more the longer the meeting went on. His thoughts skimmed lightly over the fact that he had made a vow, a vow to save the boy as much as he could. Keep him from harm as much as he could. Well, what exactly was the definition of ‘as much as he could’? It was all subjective. And, frankly, he hated Potter with a passion. Both of them, father and son, deserved all they got for bringing his precious Lily down. (His only love.)

He would see the youngest Potter burn in fiendfyre if he could. But, as he listened to the meeting, he realized that these people would take care of it for him. And, if not, Voldemort (he flinched internally as he thought of the name) himself would do a crack job of killing the menace of a child.

One less Potter… a better world all around.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy tried to keep to the side, out of touching reach of the others in the meeting place. To their credit, and much to the surprise of those from the Light faction in attendance, they did not scorn the others outwardly. On the inside, however, Lucius was seething that he was even slightly associated with a group of their ilk. (Blood traitors, mudbloods, the, eugh, vaunted leader of the Light.) This was all beneath him. It was beneath the Malfoy name to even be regarded as one of this… assembly.

But…

The Malfoy name had persevered through the centuries through cunning (and bribery, when needed), and through ensuring that they were on the right side of the fight. The Malfoy name was associated with victors.

And to the victors go the spoils.

Draco glanced around. He half listened as the grownups argued. For a moment, he felt like commiserating with the Weasel children, as horrid as that sounded. But the disgusted thought of mixing with these… people… was softened by the fact that there was a massive benefit at the end. His name would be down on the winning side. He would prosper for his part in this. And maybe, if he worked it well, he and Pansy would have the lifestyle they both deserved. Out from under the thumb of a madman, and out of the shadow of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Win-win.

Molly Weasley gripped Arthur’s hand tightly as she listened to those around her talking about her sweet Harry’s future. Oh, her heart hurt for the poor boy who showed up at her house all those years ago. Her dear Ron’s best friend. Her baby’s first love. (Although, that seems to not be working out so well due to fact that the Headmaster seemed to be initially fine with Hermione as Harry’s girlfriend. That choice might need to be changed if she had anything to do about it.)

She listened to the conversation and planning flow around her as she thought about the possibility of having a life worth living after this horrific war. After The Monster who took her dear brothers’ lives was dead, gone, and burnt to ash.

She wanted to have her family close. And she wanted to make sure that they had a secure home, and their children were taken care of. Merely the most basic wants of a mother for her family.

Really, she just wanted the best for everyone, and Harry could provide for them all.

Why shouldn’t he?

The twins felt a bit awkward about the whole situation. Harry had given them the money to start their business. Shouldn’t they be on his side? Shouldn’t they speak up about what was going to happen if this plan came to fruition?

But… it kind of made sense, this plan. It made sense that their Harrykins was getting too strong. That he wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure. That he should let some others take the reins so he could just go with the flow.

Yes, that was ok. Harry would do his job. Then, when he was done, the group in the meeting would help him out.

(They told themselves these pretty lies to cover their guilt.)

It would be ok. It would all be ok.

Bill wanted to disappear with Fleur. She wanted to disappear as well. (They should have walked out right then.)

But… it sounded almost too good.

The world would be saved. They would have their ‘brother’ do the main work. (He was the one with the prophecy hanging over his head, after all.) They would stay. And fight. They would help with the whole ‘He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named situation’, then they would get their reward too.

After all, if the Headmaster said they deserved it for all they had done over the years, for all they were about to do, then who was he to disagree.

Minerva thought sadly about her bairn as she listened to the Order and the Headmaster talk about plans after the final battle. She knew it had to be done. The boy was just too powerful. But it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt her to make this decision.

No, he was her little Lion. One of her own.

She could see him slipping to the Dark with all his power. She knew that eventually the siren song of the Dark Arts would pull him to the other side. And what would he be after he defeated He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?

It was obvious to her… he be tempted. He wouldn’t be able to resist. No, he would turn into the next Dark Lord, and she would bet her nicest pointy hat on that. This whole plan was necessary to help him out. Albus would help him.

Albus always had everyone’s best interests at heart. She would follow Albus.

Arthur held Molly-wobble’s hand while he listened to the plan that circled the room. Harry was getting quite powerful, and, in his opinion, the poor boy needed a family now more than ever. Sirius, as wonderful as a godfather as he was, was in no way ready to deal with the issue of taking care of Harry. Especially after the issues he had with the law.

He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was still at large. Harry, the one he thought of as a son, was in charge of leading the Wizarding World to victory. It is only natural that he worried about the fact that Harry might be controlled by Dark forces while fighting them.

What Albus said made sense. He should be scared for his almost-adopted youngest son. He should be worried that the Dark would lure him, that the siren song of Black Magic would call to him.

Yes, nipping this whole thing in the bud after The Monster was taken care of would be the best all around. Albus would help dampen his magic. Harry would become part of his family for real.

His baby girl would be happy.

It would all work out in the end.

Mad Eye just wanted this nonsense to be over. Kill The Maniac. The boy would do his job. He would stay sane, or he wouldn’t. Mad Eye didn’t care. As long as the job was done, he didn’t care.

Albus promised a world of peace. Mad Eye knew that would never happen, but he also knew that the best way to finish this whole nonsense off was to make the boy think that he had to do this himself. Or with little help.

The boy was prophesied. He was the one who needed to do the deed. He was the one who Mad Eye would watch for signs of Dark Magic. Albus trusted him to make the right choices in enforcing the ways of the Light.

Yes… he would have to make sure this all went their way. He would have to keep a serious watch over the boy.

Constant Vigilance!

Headmaster Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore looked over the table of the Order of the Phoenix, and a few additional people that he never would have thought would be on their side. Of course, they would side with the Light. It was the only logical way. (And it helped his cause.)

“Harry, the poor boy, is under much stress from the Dark side of the war. He is constantly fighting against Voldemort. (Snape flinched again.) This can only hurt him. I propose that we allow him to deal with this and, after it is all said and done, we make sure that his magic has not been altered or corrupted.

“I think the best thing, after he completes his duty, is to ensure his magic is not too strong. Now, how we do this is open to suggestion, however I propose that I bind his magic to a lower level so that he might enjoy his life without issue.

“He should not have to deal with the trivial things in life. I am sure that he would love to be married, to have a family help him with the mundane, day-to-day life. He will have you all. The Weasleys, who graciously took him in, even when he had nothing. His wonderful friends, who stayed with him even when he forced them into dangerous situations. The Malfoys, who even though they had a rocky past together, have banded with the Order to protect the light. The Order, who have sacrificed themselves in the fight against the Dark.

“No, I suggest to you all that the boy be watched for now. If there be any issue during the fight, we can deal with it then. For now, however, we shall see how he fights. How much the Dark takes him. How much he is influenced by Voldemort. (Another flinch from the Potions Master.) After all, he will be more likely to give over to our cause if we support him. His fame and influence will assist us all in the end.

“Do not worry, my friends. I see this war coming to an end soon. Voldemort (Snape flinched again) will be defeated. The boy will do his job. And we will be there to ensure that he does it correctly and without turning Dark.

“And if he does, we will cover that if (when) it happens.”

Albus looked at the group who had given him their complete focus. He knew the outcome of this fight. He knew that Harry wouldn’t be able to succeed the way they all wanted him to. He knew he would have to make the ‘hard’ decision to take care of the situation.

Ok, not ‘hard’, more like necessary. It was for the Light, after all. He would anything to make sure that the Light won, and the poster boy… well, if he was a scapegoat so that they could all live the way they wanted… he would make sure that happened too. Let his weapon kill the target, then get rid of the weapon.

Yes, it was a good plan. It would leave him in charge, with no one to hold him back. With no one to share in his victory. With no one to stop him from being the powerful Leader of the Light he is supposed to be.

Harry would fight. Harry would ‘win’. He would give all the accolades to Albus (willingly or unwillingly).

Then… Albus would win.