Drarry One Shots

Don't You Forget About Me

A/N This ended up a lot longer than intended but there's no way I could split it up. The story is a request from @Red_1216 . Yet another prompt I really enjoyed writing once I'd sorted out how to do it. I reuse the fake 'Crucio' spell I used in 'The Boy Who Lived' because it works really well here (and is needed).

Warning: fade-to-black scenes of a sexual nature, swearing, and time-travel...

***

10.17am

'It's ridiculous,' Harry ranted. 'His court case and sentencing are barely a bi-line in the middle of this crap about me...'

There was a tense silence as everyone watched him.

'...For fuck's sake! I defend Malfoy in court and now they think I've been corrupted and I'm the next Dark Lord?'

He stabbed at newspaper laid out on Minerva McGonagall's desk with his index finger, rage pumping through his veins. He was tempted to trash the office again but he wouldn't do that to Minnie; he respected her.

She currently watched Harry with her lips thinned. Giving up on stabbing the headline into submission, he took to pacing up and down across the new rug in front of her desk. The eyes of the previous headmasters and headmistresses followed his course from their portraits but, sensibly, none spoke.

'It's a bit more than just defending him,' she said calmly. 'You did rather go on a rampage to prevent them taking him. And you threatened to break him out of Azkaban.'

'Only vaguely. I didn't mean it.'

'They're hardly to know that. Especially considering Voldemort succeeded in breaking out his followers twice. And you knocked unconscious two prison guards,' she said. 'They're reporting that you attacked Kingsley.'

'The guard-thing was an accident. And I did not attack Kingsley.'

'You shouted rather a lot of obscenities at him. You compared him to Cornelius Fudge, in front of the entire Wizengamot and a plethora of reporters from the Press. A punch below the belt, as they say.'

'Okay, okay, don't remind me. That was a mistake. I did apologise about the prison guards and retract the claim about Fudge.'

Harry caught Severus Snape smirking in his portrait and glared at him.

Minerva sighed. 'Though gritted teeth. And with your wand twitching in your fingers. And not just any wand, Harry; the Elder Wand.'

'I don't fucking understand it though. One minute they're screaming about how I'm their Saviour: "The Vanquisher" and all that shit. And now, just because I claimed Malfoy was innocent, they think I'm going to murder them all in their beds. And they think locking me up is going to solve their problems—like that won't make me turn against them—fucking idiots!' he added sarcastically.

Someone tutted. He thought it might have been the haggard old bitch from the 1600s.

'I understand you're angry but do try to curb your language, Harry. I don't find it favourable.'

'Sorry,' he said contritely.

'You're right, of course, but people only tend to think short term, looking for immediate answers to perceived problems without thinking about the long-term impact of their actions. Yes, their continued conspiracies and tirades against you will invariably become self-fulfilling as you turn against them and that is potentially more dangerous than they realise. Especially if you were to turn to the Dark Arts and have grandiose ideas of invincible power over others. You have to understand, Harry, that people are scared. They've been through a war, a terrifying and bloody war that had a far greater impact than we realised because we were so focused on our own battles in our own corner. The true cost... the number of deaths... it's only just coming to light. And now news keeps emerging of what you've achieved over the years from a young age and how you've managed it. Then there's the revelation of your "Master of Death" title. Add to that yesterday's massive revelation that you've survived the Killing Curse a potential of three times if we include the duel and then chose to come back rather than pass on to a new realm. No one survives it, there is no counter curse, no protection, no shield, yet he cast that spell upon you three times and the final time, you pushed it back into his own soul. It all comes at a time when people are most afraid of their own mortality so your apparent power and immortality is frightening for them. Now, people are seeking certainty, transparency, clarity, and with that comes these ridiculous reactions to anything that go against—'