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Chapter 36 - Chapter 036

"They might not be human, Harry," she argued; "But they are people. They're just a different sort of people to humans."

"Yes; different," he shot back. "As in not the same."

"But, they are a people," she said. "They're intelligent. They can speak. We can speak with them. They're capable of higher thought."

"And where do you draw the line regarding intelligence, Hermione?" he asked. "If not at house elves, what about: goblins, trolls, giants, centaurs, chimpanzees, bears or even dolphins? Where do you draw the line at what constitutes 'speak'?"

"I..." she stuttered, "I - don't know."

"Look," he said, trying to explain. "You were raised with wholesome Christian values in a modern British society - a modern muggle British society. In that society the next creature down on the list of intelligence is dolphins, followed by chimpanzees. And no one considers them people."

With a sigh he added, "This is not modern muggle British society; this is wizarding Britain. And it is effectively ruled by those whose understanding of muggle British Society is what they've seen out the front windows of the Leaky Cauldron, or what they've seen at Kings Cross Station, or what they've seen out the windows of the Hogwarts Express. Even then there are a great many who've not even seen that.

"Wizarding Britain, as a society, is closer to... say... Iran. Except, instead of it being a theocracy, as it is there, it's a... magi-ocracy. At least, that's the closest I could come to as an example. Those who have had magic in their families the longest, rule. Understand?"

Though she looked almost stunned at Harry's explanation, she replied, "Errr... yes; I think so."

"Good," he firmly stated with a short nod of his head. "Because, your oft-times negative attitude to certain 'traditions' of the magical world offends those raised in this world. And, it's not that they don't know any better, either. It's that they detest someone, like you, coming into their world and trying to force them to change. That attitude is no different than Muslims coming to Britain and trying to force everyone to start obeying Sharia law."

She thought about that for a few long seconds before she adopted a glum expression and asked, "Is that why some, like Malfoy, treat me so horribly?"

"That's part of it, yes," he replied. "But, Malfoy would still hate you, anyway. They've been raised on stories of muggleborns having somehow figured out how to steal magic from purebloods. Losing their magic scares the Hell out of them, so they hate muggleborns."

"But, that's just stupid," she frowned. "Where's their evidence?"

"No one ever said it was logical," he shrugged. "People hate what they fear, Hermione. The only way to fight that is to prove that muggles can't steal magic."

"That's impossible," she firmly stated. "You can't prove a negative."

"I know," he smiled. "That's why the issue has never been resolved."

She thought about that for a few moments before she sighed, "But, still... I almost forced you to kill Dobby by accident."

"No, you didn't," he disagreed.

She frowned and said, "But, Harry; you just got through convincing me that, if you'd freed Dobby, it would have led to him dying. And I almost forced you to free him."

"Yes, to the first part; no to the second," he replied. "You would have tried to force me to free to Dobby. But, there's no way I'd have done that."

Turning more fully to her he continued, "I knew the truth, Hermione. You might have continued to try to force me to release him; however, you'd have not succeeded. Actually, the only thing you would have succeeded in doing is, by pushing too hard, leading me to decide our friendship wasn't worth it and immediately terminating it."

Hermione looked back in near heart-stricken shock, unable to verbally form a word in response.

More softly he added, "I know it's going to take you a little while to come to grips with the new reality of just who 'Harry Potter' is, Hermione. And, I'm prepared to give you that little while. However... once again... I am not the Harry Potter you thought me to be. The quicker you come to an understanding of that the less problems you're going to face coming to an acceptance of that."

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―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

It was while Fudge was ordering the last of the packing during the early hours of the morning he was alerted by ward alarm to the attempted unauthorised entry of one Walden MacNair. Knowing the man was both a 'reformed' Death Eater and also on the 'payroll' of one Lucius Malfoy, Fudge was fully aware of what the very likely reason was of MacNair attempting to enter his, for the moment, home; especially during the early hours of the morning.

Against DMLE orders to remain under house arrest he immediately grabbed his secret and illegal portkey to his bolt hole, and portkeyed away. He'd much rather be a wanted man than a dead man.

Once he was at his bolt-hole home he'd owl 'that blasted Bones woman' why he took what action he did and hoped by Merlin she'd not charge him any further for it. At least, if she accepted his excuse, he'd at least not get the 'Wanted' tag applied to his name. He knew his order to have any escaped prisoners of Azkaban 'Kissed on Sight' was still on the books and he didn't want it to apply to him.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Dumbledore had spent the night in the DMLE holding cells 'knowing' he'd lost everything. He was so depressed over the whole incident he hadn't even thought to call his 'friend', Fawkes, to rescue him. He also had no idea his 'resident' spy and potions master was in the cell two down from him and also bemoaning his fate.

From what the boy had caused to be made public, besides him losing everything, apparently the goblins had discovered the truth about the monies and artefacts he'd removed from the boy's vault and had already recovered it all. His 'retirement fund' would have been stripped bare, as he knew there was less in it than the total he'd taken from the boy. It took a lot of money to bribe members of the School Board and the Wizengamot to make sure he stayed on as Headmaster, Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump. Through Fudge, Malfoy had been trying to wrestle those positions out of his grasp since that man ascended to the Head of House Malfoy on the (very suspicious) death of his father.

Now, even if he still had the gold available to him, he knew he'd not be keeping those positions. He'd now be Mister Dumbledore, once more. He'd not been Mister Dumbledore since well before the war with Grindelwald. Since the late 1920s he'd been at least Professor Dumbledore. And that was seventy years ago.

There was nothing he could do about that. Young Harry had well and truly fooled him these past few years and, as attested by the questions the Bones woman had asked him during his second interrogation, had provided her even more evidence of his illegal acts through those blasted memories of his. He'd used his best skills at dissembling interlocution and she'd fallen for none of it. Every time he tried to lead her away from the truth by leading her to make false assumptions, his usual method, she'd simply demanded he directly answer her question or be ready to be dosed with Veritaserum. She allowed him no 'wiggle' room, whatsoever.

He'd miscalculated when he'd demanded to be released or charged, because she did just that - charged him. It was only a couple hours earlier when she'd informed him his trial was already being arranged and he would not be released until that trial and, even then, only if they somehow found him innocent of all charges. Even he knew the chances of that currently rated at 'highly unlikely'.

In order to try and get some level of control of 'the message', he needed out and to be in contact with the media. That, though, was not going to happen. While he was being held in isolation people, especially the media, were in control of the information and were acting both without his guidance and ability to get ahead of things. As such he could not offer rebuttal.

It was maddening!

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Over at Riddle Manor, the current hiding place of the recently 'partially reborn' Dark Lord Voldemort, said Dark Lord was trying to use his very undersized and weak arms to read that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet.

He had seen what was reported about the Potter boy's 'play' of the first task and couldn't make heads or tails of why he did it. It confused him as to the boy's motives and that was a situation he was uncomfortable with.

From the articles, the way Potter went about it demonstrated a very cunning Slytherin mindset. He had a firmly captive audience and, apparently, no time limit. And then used both that captive audience and unlimited time to utterly destroy the reputations of the senior staff of Hogwarts - especially that of that muggle-loving fool, Dumbledore - the Minister of Magic himself, plus two Directors of Ministry departments.

The only thing he couldn't figure out was why. Nor did he know what the boy's actions would mean for his plan to have him at the graveyard the following June. For now, he'd wait and see what the fallout was going to be from the boy's actions; then make what changes to his plans he needed.

The paper already told him he'd lost young Barty as his on-the-scene spy. That meant Barty would also not be in a position to replace the portkey on the Cup to whisk the boy away from under the very crooked nose of Dumbledore, let alone organise for the boy to be the first to reach the cup. However, the end result did not actually need the boy to be taken at the completion of the third task; he just found the almost poetic justice of the concept had appealed to him.

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