The Brightest Sun

Chapter 14

Galleons and Knuts: Harry
Chapter Text

Unbothered by the stares, Harry sat in the seat reserved for him, the crests for the Houses of Potter and Black etched lovingly into the leather.

Glancing quickly to the seats meant for guests, he spotted Elia in conversation with his aunt, stifling the grin that wanted to come on his face.

To be a fly on that bench, he thought in amusement.

Doubtless they would get along; Narcissa had proven to have a sharp tongue and dry wit, something he had noticed in Elia as well. That they had been raised to navigate the political intrigue that came with their birth would probably help them bond, though she could not tell his aunt she was in reality a foreign princess from another dimension.

Knowing Narcissa, she might take her at her word. Stranger things have happened when he was involved.

“Oy ye, oy ye. Calling to session this meeting of the Council of Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot of Magical Britain, on this day, the fourth of February in the year two thousand four. Are all members present?” the Chief Warlock asked. They had nominated one of Dumbledore’s contemporaries, an Alfred Golding, and the balding old man was near as infuriating as Dumbledore had been. Thankfully, this one did not twinkle his eyes at you, nor was he as adept at legilimancy as his predecessor.

“All members are present, Chief Warlock,” called Percy Weasley. He had managed to keep hold of his spot in the Ministry, though Percy worked instead as the Court Scribe for Wizengamot sessions – a better position for his prodigious memory.

“Lord MacDougal, if you will,” Chief Golding offered, sitting as the aging Scotsman made his way to the floor.

“MacDougal’s certainly doing what he can to push his bill,” a voice muttered close to him, and Harry leaned closer to better hear Ernie MacMillan.

“He’s got Marchbanks and Ogden in the bag,” Harry murmured in response, watching the man go on with his impassioned plea for restructuring.

“Hmm, and Runcorn as well,” Ernie responded, hand covering his lips.

Harry raised a brow at that; Albert Runcorn had managed to avoid conviction as a Snatcher, despite having used his position in the Ministry to arrest hundreds of halfbloods and their muggleborn spouses. That he would so openly side with MacDougal did not bode well for them.

“The money gets restructured to flow mainly in the Auror office,” Ernie told him. Harry had read the draft budget cover-to-cover – had even enlisted Elia’s help to comb through it for any loopholes.

“The Justices,” Harry noted, seeing Ernie grimace in agreement.

That Runcorn managed to avoid Azkaban was shameful; that the Ministry allowed him to continue in his role as a prosecutor in the DMLE was a scandal that had not been rectified.

“Nott’s position is looking more appealing,” Harry muttered in disdain, Ernie nodding in agreement.

“This Lady Martell is a friend of yours?” he asked as his brown eyes focused on the two women.

“Something like that,” Harry responded, grateful Ernie would not pry into personal matters.

“Ten galleons says their tongues will wag for a month,” Ernie offered with a light grin, and Harry nodded his agreement of the bet.

“…Money well spent, I say. We have managed to catch many of the criminals that had run rampant through the country under the reign of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” MacDougal droned, tipping his head at Harry, who steadfastly ignored the stares as he glanced at the two ladies. They were paying rapt attention to the old Scot, and the eyes of the reporters allowed into the sessions danced between Harry and Elia.