Tannim's blog: "Harry Potter and the Mental War"

August 1^st

Harry got up early the next morning, to find Ron already up and in the War Room, checking final plans.

"Remember, it goes down at 10 AM sharp."  Harry noted.

"We'll be ready, Harry.  You just keep Voldemort busy until I coin you that it's OK."

"I think I can handle that."  Harry patted his pocket.  "I'm going to mess with his mind some more today as well.  Moony is getting Ginny up to speed on Occulmency.  I'm hitting Gringotts early to get the paperwork adjusted before the meeting.  McGonagall will be there, and so will Flitwick."

"Harry, are you sure that messing with his mind like this won't put you and Ginny at extra risk?"  Ron asked.

"Trust me.  Or better yet, trust Snape."  Harry grinned.  Ron blanched, then turned to his notes.

"Operation Squeeze Play is set.  After tomorrow we'll know what a squished Dementor looks like.  Or a thousand."

"Hogsmeade?"

"Fred and George have all the traps in place, and we're ready."

"I'm wearing the Amoeba Suit, and my glasses are stuck to my head, so they aren't going anywhere.  I need to see about medical contacts or Muggle LASIK surgery one of these days."  Harry replied.

"Just make sure you do it before we go after the Horcruxes.  But that's later, right?"  Ron asked.

"Yep.  The next two days first, then we go from there."  Harry clapped his hand on Ron's shoulder and left the strategist to work.  He left the room and called Ginny.

:Yes, love?

:I'm going to shut down the link for now to be sure.  Call me if there's an emergency.

:You got it. Good Luck.  I love you!

:Love you too.

Harry turned into his phoenix form and disapparated.  Fawkes and Ginny were at St. Mungo's preparing for any wounded.  Hopefully, there won't be any.

* * *

Harry walked up to the counter and asked for Griphook.  The goblin came forward immediately and ushered Harry into a private room.  At Harry's request, Bill joined them.

"Mr. Potter, it seems the issue we left unaddressed the other day has come to fruition.  Our records now show a Mrs. Ginerva Molly Potter magically added to your accounts."  Griphook showed Harry the records.

"Correct, Griphook.  But, she is to be removed immediately, for now," Harry replied.  "It is not a mistake, before you ask, but it is a matter of Ministry, and personal, security."  Bill nodded his head in affirmation.

Griphook looked puzzled.  "It is not a mistake, but she should not be on there?"

"Let's just say that if those ledgers fall under the wrong eyes and they see that name on there, it would lead to a lot of avoidable trouble," Harry replied.

"Ah, I see," replied Griphook.  "Well, we will do this.  We will create a duplicate set of books with only your name on them.  We will store these originals in your vault, and we will enchant them so the originals update as the fake ones do.  The only difference is the names.  We cannot remove her name, but this is the next best thing."

Harry sighed.  It was not the best answer, but it would have to do.  "Very well.  Bill is a witness to the authorization."

His business completed, Harry then Floo'ed to the Ministry.  It was 8:30AM.  Time to deal with Fudge first.  He went to Arthur's office first and grabbed him, explaining the timing change.  The two of them headed for Fudge's office.  As before, Harry walked past the secretary's desk, which was unoccupied, and opened the inner office door without a word.  As before, Fudge looked up from his paperwork.

"Oh, it's you again.  What now?"  Fudge was nervous and glanced at the corner as Harry walked in.

"Relax, Fudge, nobody's there this time."  Arthur entered the room, closed the door, and locked and silenced it.  "We have more business to discuss."

Fudge sighed.  "Why is Weasley here?"

"I am here, Cornelius, because this business concerns me, too."  Arthur glared at his boss.

"Minister, you need to change a record for me in the Department of Magical Records.  It is a matter of Ministry Security.  Remember our little agreement," Harry said.

Again Fudge sighed.  "Yes, I remember.  What needs to be changed?"

"A record of marriage between myself and Ginerva Weasley."  That made Fudge look up.

"When did that happen?  And why the change?"

"The 'why' is not important to you.  It happened last night.  The record simply needs to not reflect the marriage.  It needs to be unrecorded, for now," Harry replied.

Fudge looked at him.  "You're afraid the records will fall into the wrong hands."

"Precisely."

Fudge took a piece of parchment and scribbled something on it and handed it to Arthur.  "Take this down there and they will get it done.  I know, you were never here.  Please obliviate this meeting."  Arthur raised his wand and mumbled the charm.  Fudge's face went blank.

Harry and Arthur made their way to the Department of Magical Records.  There they found the records and made the change, then obliviated the record keeper.  They made their way back to Arthur's office.  Harry left him there and headed for the Apparition Testing Office.  He arrived at 8:59 and was promptly ushered inside.  After working apparition with both Dobby and Fawkes while Harry was in his phoenix form, the test seemed remarkably easy.  He passed handily, and received his license, then headed back to Arthur's office.

Harry looked at the wall clock.  It read 9:42.  Harry looked at Arthur.

"Be ready.  Operation Polyjuice goes down at 10AM." Arthur nodded.

"Be careful around the Dark Lord, son."

Harry grinned.  "Don't worry about me.  Worry about him."

Harry pulled out the ticket stub.  The clock hit 9:45 and the Portkey activated, and he arrived in the conference room at Gringotts.  There were names at designated chairs, and Harry moved towards his.  A moment later McGonagall arrived, and a moment after that, surprisingly, Hermione.

At 9:55 another pop signaled the arrival of Voldemort.  He looked around, saw Harry, and his face broke into a sneer.  Harry just looked at him calmly, but moved a hand up to his scar.

Let him think it still hurts around him.

"Ah, Potter, we meet again.  How unfortunate for me that I cannot kill you today.  But rest assured, soon I shall, for you cannot beat me."  Voldemort's voice was high and cold, as usual.

Harry smiled, still rubbing his scar as if it were hurting him.  "Hello, Tom.  You're looking rather peaked.  Did the latest nose-job not take well?  You still look like Michael Jackson."  Beside him, Hermione giggled, being the only one in the room who got the insult.

"Such cheek, Potter.  You should address your superiors more respectfully," Tom sneered.  "Your Mudblood friend should, too."

"Whatever, you half-blooded fool," shot back Hermione.  She looked at Harry.  "Tell me, Harry, who taught that snake to walk upright and speak?  Lucius, maybe?  He's right though, Harry, you should address superiors with respect."

"Well, I will when I see them, including Professor McGonagall here."  He turned to Tom again.  "But since you're not my superior, and you've already acknowledged that through the prophecy, I'll just call you what you are, Tom: an old, bitter man, corrupted by hate and lust for power, and completely ignorant of anything beyond that."

Voldemort glared at him.  "I had that conversation with Dumbledore years ago.  He was wrong then, and you are wrong now!"

Harry just smiled an knowing smile.  "We'll see."  At that moment Flitwick arrived with a Pensieve and a bottle of a silvery liquid.

"I am Filius Flitwick, executor of the will of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.  At his request, the seats have been designated.  Please sit."

They took their seats.  Flitwick removed the stopper from the bottle and poured the contents into the Pensieve.  There was some swirling and Dumbledore's face appeared.

"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, being of sound mind and very old body, do make this my will and testament.  Present for this should be Tom Riddle, Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall, and Hermione Granger.  Executor of this will shall be Filius Flitwick.  To him I speak first."  The image turned to Flitwick.

"Filius, my old friend, I thank you for undertaking this heavy-hearted duty for me.  Do not grieve my passing, for to the organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."  Harry smiled at the familiar reference, thinking of Nicholas Flamel.  The image turned to McGonagall.

"Minerva, you are now the Headmistress of Hogwarts.  To you I leave everything except for a few things I will further detail.  I also leave you with my love, and my regrets and an apology.  My regrets are for not telling you in this life that I love you and never had the courage to tell you, and my apology for not doing so.  I also leave you with one revelation that you have never known.  You are the last heir of Rowena Ravenclaw." The image turned to Hermione.

"Miss Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her generation, last heir of Helga Hufflepuff.  To you I leave my extensive personal library.  As much as you read, I am sure there will be plenty of interesting material for you to peruse.  It will remain at Hogwarts, however, so that it will be available for all teachers to access as well.  Knowledge, as addictive as it is, is best shared and not hidden."  The image turned to an empty seat.

"To Aberforth, my dear brother, I leave my monetary fortune, what there is of it.  I know you are not here today.  I will miss you.  Flitwick will see to the arrangements."  The image turned to Harry.

"Harry Potter, last heir of Godric Gryffindor.  I have watched you from your birth, and have seen you struggle under a burden that no child and few adult wizards have ever had to carry.  Yet you have endured and grown into a strong man.  I cannot say how proud I am of you.  To you I leave three things: Fawkes, as you already knew, this Pensieve and all of my memories, and by blood right, the sword of Godric Gryffindor."  Finally, the image turned to Voldemort.

"Tom Riddle, last heir of Salazar Slytherin.  You disappoint me.  Like Harry, I have watched you for most of your life.  You had the potential to be the greatest wizard ever seen, and you fell short of the mark.  You may sneer at my words, but they are true.  I leave you with one thing, and one thing only, which is this message:  remember your past, for it has a way of catching up to you when you least expect it."

"I leave you all with some final words: Nitwit! Oddball! Blubber! Tweak!"  Harry, Hermione, McGonagall, and Flitwick all couldn't help but smile at the joke.  The image turned away, and then faded back into the Pensieve.  Flitwick removed the liquid back into the bottle and banished it with a wave.  Then he stepped out of the room.

The sword of Gryffindor appeared in the Pensieve and Fawkes apparated with a crack.  He looked at Harry, who nodded, and Fawkes grabbed the Pensieve and sword and disapparated with another crack.

Minerva dried her eyes with her handkerchief and left without a word.  Hermione tearfully looked at Harry, then her Portkey glowed and she was gone.

Only Harry and Voldemort remained, the table and silence separating the two seated figures.  Neither moved, just looking at each other, never blinking or moving away.

The coin in his pocket vibrated.  Harry smiled at Tom, then stood.  He walked around the table, dropped a parchment in front of the still-seated Voldemort as he passed, bending slightly and dropping something else at the same time with his other hand.  Voldemort just looked at the parchment. Harry headed for the door, stopped, turned, and spoke softly to his sworn enemy.

"I hope you get the message."  He silently cast a spell, then he was gone.

Voldemort stood, then looked at the parchment and opened it.

Tom,

It appears my last message didn't quite sink in very well.  I sent nine more Death Eaters to Azkaban, and Wormtail is dead.  As he received the Kiss I transformed his body into pure energy and the Dementor sucked that up too.  Yes, I was there.  It was a feeling of closure to do it, to finally be rid of the rat that betrayed my parents and brought you back.  I'm surprised you actually let him live after you came back, because it was his fault you wound up in that situation at all.  Is your memory slipping in your old age, Tom?

Oh, by the way, I think you should know something.  You never heard the full prophecy.  And you have no idea what the rest of it says.  I have, but rather than try to break in my head all the time to little result, I'll simply tell you what it says.

It says that either you kill me, or I kill you.

We WILL settle this in the future.  Potter and Riddle, and only Potter and Riddle.  Those destinies are set, the only variable is when and where.

But as I said before, it's really not an either-or proposition. It's only a matter of when you meet your end once and for all.

I'll leave you now with one more secret.  Michael Jackson is a Muggle singer who has had major problems with his nose over the years.  That's a Muggle inside joke you may not ever understand.

Until later, whenever that is.

Harry Potter

P.S. Your foot is on fire.

Voldemort finished the letter and immediately began hopping around in pain.  He quickly beat out the flames and hobbled to the exit.

I'm going to kill that brat!

He apparated away with an angry bang that shook the wall hangings.

* * *

Harry withdrew from Voldemort's mind, smiling.  He couldn't resist giving Voldemort a Hotfoot.  The funny thing is that he has no idea how I did it!  He should have checked the letter for enchantments, but even then he wouldn't have found it.  Fred and George's Invisible Instant Hotfoot Powder worked perfectly!

It's fun messing with his head.  What should I do next time?

Harry arrived at the War Room and found Ron.  Ron looked up at him and grinned.

"Complete success, Harry.  No casualties and all Polyjuice Agents are in place."

"Excellent!  Relay a well-done to all for me."  Harry smiled.

"How did the will reading go?" Ron asked, opening a Butterbeer.

"About what I expected.  Voldemort was his usual cheery self.  Dumbledore left him a large hint in a message.  McGonagall and Hermione were there as well.  Hermione zinged him good, asking who taught him to walk upright and speak."  He timed it perfectly, as Ron had just started to take a drink.  Ron spurt Butterbeer out his nose at that one.  "Oh, yeah, I gave him a Hotfoot on the way out.  Fred and George would have loved to see it."

Now Ron really lost it, rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically.  "A-Hotfoot?" he chortled.  "Harry, you pranked the most dangerous wizard that ever lived?  To Hell with Fred and George, that makes them second-rate!  Not even the Marauders themselves could pull that one off!"  Harry laughed.  Dad and Sirius would have loved it!  Ron prostrated himself in front of Harry.  "I bow to your superior pranking ability, Oh, Chosen One!" he mocked.

Harry pulled him up.  "All right, already!"  Smiling, he went into the kitchen to get some lunch.

Harry grabbed a quick lunch and called Ginny, who joined him.  He filled her in on what happened and his timing was again impeccable, getting her to spray pumpkin juice at the mention of the Hotfoot.  He had to pound her on the back to get her to stop coughing.

:You prat!  You timed that on purpose!

:Of course I did!  Ron shot Butterbeer out his nose when I told him what Hermione said!

:Oh, I wish I could have seen that!

:I'm two for two on that today!

Harry yawned.  "I'm going to catch a nap before tonight's deployment."  He apparated to Grimmauld Place and went up to his room.  He was just drifting off when he heard the door open.

"Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Mrs. Potter?"

"May I join you in that nap?"

Harry grinned, sat up, and waved his hand. "Accio Ginny."  She flew across the room into his waiting arms, and they kissed deeply.

"So, it's just like that, Harry Potter, you summon me whenever you want a snog?" she mock-pouted.

He teased her hair.  "Well, are you objecting?"

She looked up at him, then snuggled into his chest with a contented sigh.  "Not in this case."  She waved her wand and the door closed and locked.  "Now where were we?"

"Right here, I think." They kissed again, falling backwards onto the bed.  Ginny rested her head on his chest, her arms around his neck, his around her shoulders, and they drifted off to sleep, sharing a dream of little red-haired girls with green-eyes and little boys with messy black hair running around them.  A soft white glow surrounded them as they slept.