Renaissance

A/N: Usual spiel, any errors that remain are mine coz Mamacita-san and refuz2luz are brilliant betas. A note for those awaiting smex...it’ll be a while yet, have patience I think it’ll be worth it (grin)

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10.

Harry sighed and wiped tiredly under his glasses. Despite his mental exhaustion his body was still quite energised; hours later and his blood still simmered with the heat that had roiled between him and Draco during their interrupted snogging session. He paused a moment to smile. Those kisses had been positively incendiary...Merlin, and the way Draco moved. The triarii fitted against him every bit as perfectly as he’d imagined—better. But then, as now, the sharp heated vibration of his AFR kept things from going further; again Harry dutifully pulled away from Draco (or thoughts of hir, anyway) to answer sharply.

“Potter.”

“Sorry, Harry.” Tonks’ voice sounded low in his ear. “I know you didn’t want to be disturbed during your initial review of the new reports, but Kingsley and Arthur are down here with the press corps waiting for you to make a statement.”

Violently shoving a stack of parchment away, Harry cursed. “Sodding vultures, couldn’t they give us another couple of hours at least? Fucking hell!”

Tonks was silent on the line and Harry sighed. “Fine, Tonks, I’ll be right there. Not that I have any clue about what to say to them,” he grumbled under his breath as he ended the call.

Harry almost wished he could call to ask Draco to sic the Prophet’s dogs on someone else. But as the Task Force leader there wasn’t anyone else, and besides, the media mogul had already explained to Harry that sie pretty much left the running of Dragonheart and their media interests to Blaise Zabini. And Zabini, besides demanding a much higher standard of journalistic integrity, public accountability, and fairer broad-based reporting, refused to micro-manage, leaving the reporters to the tender mercies of a cohort of new no-nonsense editors. Unfortunately for Harry, many of those editors were sharks and favoured their own kind as underlings.

Still, he’d learned a thing or two about how to deal with the press in the last few years. So, straightening his robe, he donned the persona he’d learned worked best for the press—committed, hard-nosed Auror who tempered confidence with humility and a thirst for justice with an understanding of human failings and foibles; who had a deep and abiding respect for life and the law (he’d had a lot of help from Hermione, Kingsley, and ace Quibbler reporter Colin Creevey in constructing this particular public face). And though he was mostly ready for them, he was still nearly blinded by flashbulbs when the lift doors opened and nearly deafened a second later when he stepped into the Atrium, but he finally did make his way to the podium erected in front of the Fountain of Magical Brethren just in time for Kingsley and Mr. Weasley (Harry had never got used to calling him Arthur, though Molly had been “Mum Weasley” for ages) to materialise beside him.

“Certainly took you long enough, Potter,” the Head Auror muttered while maintaining his smile for the camera.

“Not now, Kings,” Harry gritted out in the same way. “Let’s just get through this.”

Mr. Weasley called for order, confirmed the basic details of the latest victim, offered his and the Ministry’s condolences to the victim’s family, and again promised the public that the Auror corps was doing all it could to protect the citizenry and apprehend the killer. While it wasn’t easy, Harry thought he still got off pretty lightly; the scent of blood was in the water, but the sharks hadn’t quite homed in on their main prey just yet.

Kingsley took centre stage and added a few details about safety measures already in place and emphasised the diligence of the Aurors assigned to the case, purposefully drawing the crowd’s attention to the formation of a task force led by Auror Harry Potter. And that was Harry’s cue; he could feel the feeding frenzy was about to begin. Thanks, Kingsley.

Harry stepped forward and cleared his throat. “As our Minister and Head Auror have said, we are doing all we can to bring this killer to justice. At this moment, elements of the crime that cannot be released to the public are being analysed and processed in comparison to the other horrific murders that have taken place.

“The specialised task force, comprised of some of the Auror corps’ best and brightest, is determined to prevent additional attacks, and steps have been instituted to further protect the public. A joint protection operation with Anderson Security Systems has been very effective so far, and private protection is available to those members of our community who’ve been specifically targeted by these attacks; we ask that if you’ve been approached for private protection that you avail yourselves of this additional security measure. In the meanwhile, members of the task force and I are working hard to keep everyone safe. Thank you.”

“Auror Potter, a question!”

Of course. They couldn’t just leave me to make my statement and go, could they?

“Is participation in celebrity charity Quidditch matches now part of your duties for the task force? Isn’t it true the latest victim was brutally slain while you were carousing with friends on your childhood stomping grounds?”

Ah, the spiteful b—witch from WWN. I should never have gone along with Hermione’s stupid blind-date plan. It’s not my fault you ended up with merlot spilled all over that white cocktail dress; just because you thought groping me under the table would get you an exclusive interview....

“Today’s Seeker’s Match at Hogwarts was not a charity event, merely a friendly exhibition game originally slotted for the Hogwarts Open House that had to be rescheduled,” Harry answered placidly, pleased with how well he’d side-stepped the more inflammatory remarks.

“But Renaissance Foundation’s Heritage Youth did host a recruitment drive and fundraiser following the event, Auror Potter?” another reporter called out.

“Yes, as a sanctioned extra-curricular club at Hogwarts, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall did give permission for Heritage Youth to fundraise this afternoon. But the club’s activities have no bearing on this case, so....”

“Auror Potter, Renaissance Foundation claims some of its goals are the reclamation, rebirth, and re-emergence of Wizarding pride, culture, and community. What do you say to those statements? Do you believe this newfound ‘triarii pride’ movement is being targeted by this killer in response to organisations like Renaissance Foundation?”

And this is what it feels like to be shark chow...in for a Knut, in for a Galleon. I can see the Howlers steaming already, and a good dozen will come from Hermione.

Harry took a deep breath and made eye contact with as many of the reporters as he could. If he was going to stick his neck out he’d do it in a grand way, and he wanted to be sure they all understood how serious he was about his own commitment to Renaissance Foundation, how he interpreted their mission, and why he now truly supported all that Draco had been working toward. “Yes, I do personally support the mission and goals of Renaissance Foundation. However, the Ministry, as you all know, does not endorse or advocate the aims of any one independent charitable organisation over another.

“I am not aware of any ‘triarii pride movement’ per se, but I applaud the courage and conviction shown by those members of our community who refused to be shamed into silence about their difference.

“The diversity of our people—witch, wizard, and triarii alike—is a gift of Magic, and very much an integral part of what makes the Wizarding world beautiful and unique. We, as magical beings, along with our brethren—” Harry paused to point at the statue behind him, because people sometimes refused to see the obvious unless you bludgeoned them with it—“Centaurs, Elves, Fae, Goblins, Werewolves, Veela, and others, must be united against the forces—hatred, intolerance, prejudice— that would destroy us from within.

“Maybe that’s what this killer wants: for us to turn away from each other, to divide ourselves and our strength. I would remind everyone that love, unity, and acceptance are our greatest weapons against fear and dissension.”

Feeling he hadn’t done too badly, shades of Dumbledore and all that (no matter the man’s mistakes, Harry had always thought him pretty inspiring), he made to step down from the podium but instead found himself dematerialising with Kingsley’s hand tightly grasping his elbow.

The trick to dematerialising, Harry found, was a specialised Portkey designed to bypass any Ministry wards—a privilege granted only to the Minister, the Head Auror, and the Chief Unspeakable. The magics negated the flash and hook effects, but that was all pretty technical advanced stuff he wasn’t likely to be interested in anyway.

However, startling Kingsley into answering his dematerialisation question wasn’t as effective a diversionary tactic as Harry had hoped. His superior settled himself relatively quickly and fixed Harry with a dark glare. “Just what the fuck did you think you were doing down there?”

Harry flinched. Kingsley disdained any sort of vulgarity; that he was cursing was a very bad sign.

At least he didn’t raise his voice; then I would’ve really been in trouble.

“I don’t see that I did anything wrong,” the younger Auror replied. Harry wasn’t in the mood for games, nor was he willing to be brought to heel. “I toed the Ministry line as far as the investigation goes—offered the same platitudes you and Mr. Weasley did. And yes, I made a personal statement in support of Renaissance Foundation, but I think I distanced my own position from the Ministry’s well enough.”

“Well enough,” Kingsley sneered. “Dammit, Harry! Do you have any idea how far the papers can run with this? You’ve just handed Malfoy and his little blue-blood brigade carte blanche! The only thing keeping Renaissance Foundation from launching a wholesale propaganda war and completely overrunning every sector of society was the lack of support caused by their perceived lack of legitimacy by the general public.

And you just handed it right over with the ‘Boy Who Lived’ seal of approval! You know how the public feels about you, Harry—I can’t believe you’d be so reckless with your reputation and the power of your endorsement.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. This was personal, then, and Kingsley was speaking more as a friend than as his superior officer, though Harry was well aware the Head Auror was certainly there with them. Still, if his friend thought to bring him to task, he had another think coming.

“Maybe it’ll be enough to get the public to look past the Malfoy reputation to what Draco and the Foundation are really doing—ever think of that?

“The Ministry has used the cachet of my name to further its own ends from the time I was a kid, Kingsley. Maybe I want some say, some control over these agendas.

“And I do believe in what Renaissance Foundation is doing. I’ve put away the suspicion that blinded me to the good being done by anyone with the name Malfoy. Stop looking for shades of Lucius and the Death Eaters! Renaissance Foundation isn’t angling for Muggle-born exclusion or Wizarding isolation—”

“Not yet...just control over the Ministry,” the older man growled, and flung a bright blue piece of parchment at Harry’s chest.

Harry looked down at the pamphlet that announced:

VOTE FOR CHANGE THIS SPRING
JOHN C. DAVIS
MINISTER of MAGIC
This message is sponsored by the Renaissance Party

“What is this? And John Davis, isn’t he—”

“Cameron Davis’ father, yes. He’s also on Renaissance Foundation’s Board of Directors, though technically the political party and the foundation are wholly separate entities.

“But read between the lines of that tract, Harry. Go through his platforms and then tell me you haven’t just opened the gates to Lucius redux.”

Shaken by the claim, Harry read the pamphlet carefully. He calmly met Kingsley’s eyes when he’d finished. “If he wins he’ll make a fine Minister.”

“Wha—Harry! After all Arthur’s done, you can’t seriously—”

“Stop, Kings,” Harry broke in coolly. “How many times have you told me to look beyond the person to the politics? I love Mr. Weasley, nothing will ever change that. I think he’s a good Minister; he’s got rid of a lot of the dross that’s been dragging the Ministry down for decades. I think he can continue to be a good Minister, but if John Davis wins, I’d count it as a good happening if he’s honest here about what he intends to do.

“I see here someone who’s willing to continue the work Mr. Weasley’s started and take it further.” Harry snapped the tract in his fist. “This is a candidate for legal reforms and protections similar to those the current administration has in place or wants to incorporate, as well as social reforms that will make our community stronger, safer, and less divided. I won’t argue against that. I see nothing dangerous or wrong here.”

“No? What would you call laws that specifically target Muggle-borns, like his plans for stiffer penalties against those who violate the Statutes of Secrecy?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Come off it, Kingsley. The proposal is for everyone in violation, something you’ve been advocating for years. I should be looking in your closet for a skull mask if wanting less work for the Obliviators and a truer respect for the Statutes and how they protect us is all it takes to identify a Death Eater.

“He’s also proposing harsher penalties for Muggle-baiting, especially if the victim is a friend or relative of a Muggle-born witch or wizard. And ooh, scary: he also wants earlier intervention by the Ministry for Muggle-born integration.” Harry scoffed, “Better outreach for Muggle families of Muggle-borns, mixed daycare centres, and grammar schools are definitely part of this supremacist’s nefarious plot.”

“Yes,” Kingsley retorted, “if his goal is to indoctrinate Muggle-borns to their supposed inferiority from an early age. Get them to hate and reject their homes and families, and erode their confidence in their equality to pure-bloods.”

Harry sighed. “Kingsley, you can’t really understand this because the Wizarding world is all you’ve ever known, but it’s not so easy to leave everything behind as we ask Muggle-borns or Muggle-reared to do. It was easy for me to give up the Muggle world because I was never really grounded there. I hated my life, my family despised me, I had no friends or connections; but most kids aren’t raised like I was. And for those children, we’re asking them to decide at age eleven, to accept themselves as fundamentally different from their families and turn their backs on so much of their lives.

“If we start younger, allow those children to grow up with Magic and the Wizarding world, we can find better ways to bridge that divide, simultaneously give them knowledge and pride in all facets of their identities. We can encourage acceptance, adaptation, and pride, instead of engendering envy, bitterness, and resentment in Muggle families—because c’mon, who wouldn’t resent some ‘weirdoes in dresses’ coming along to take their child away for months on end, knowing eventually that child might not return?

“Muggle-borns need to understand that magical beings are more than just Muggles who can do magic. We are Magic, stewards and conduits of our abilities, culture, history, and traditions, as well as our innovations and discoveries.

“We can’t afford to lose ourselves to some glorified past—that’s the road to stagnation, isolation, and extinction; but we can’t change everything about who we are to adapt to the Muggles either—that the road to exposure, the dispersion of all we are, and extinction.”

Kingsley sat back and considered Harry thoughtfully. “You’re saying there’s another path. A way to honour the past yet keep an openness to the future...you think this is the direction of Malfoy’s people.”

“Not just Malfoy, but yes. This is the work of Renaissance Foundation, Kingsley, and why I support it. I want there to be magical beings forever, and for us to be proud of all that we are, all we’ve been gifted with. Besides, the name is Renaissance—rebirth, you know, not cloning.”

At Kingsley’s perplexed look, Harry smiled. “Never mind, it’s a Muggle duplication thing. I’ll explain later.”

Kingsley was wearing that look, the one that said, ‘I’ve run out of patience with you, Potter,’ so Harry stood and held out his hand. “We’re all right?”

The older man nodded. “You’ve given me much to think about, Harry, and I will. We’re fine.” He shook his hand and nodded toward the door. “Enough dawdling. Go catch me a killer.”

Harry sighed, thinking about the reports he’d left in his office and the newest photos of another gruesome murder, and let the angry determination rush though him. He nodded solemnly to Kingsley, both understanding that the friends would consider each other’s words, but now the Aurors within were at the helm. There was justice to be wrought and their people, all of them, to protect.

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It was nearly two in the morning when a light knock on the frame of Staging Room 3 disrupted the haze of mutilated bodies and grim facts that floated before Harry’s bleary, red-rimmed eyes. He blinked the dryness away, thinking the hallucination would go too, but the vision of Draco Malfoy leaning casually against the doorway remained.

“The night watchman brought me up,” sie said softly, and for a moment Harry was still sure he was dreaming with his eyes open.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he croaked.

The corner of Draco’s mouth turned up in a not-quite grin. “There were certainly enough nights when you and Mark chivvied me out of the office. I thought I’d return the favour.” Sie crossed the room and opened a small sack to reveal a steaming cup of tea. “Not exactly a restorative draught, but I thought you could use this.”

Harry sipped gratefully. “Thank you. Really, it’s just what I needed.” He snapped back at the bold flavour.

“Lemon-ginger,” Draco answered, again having seemed to read Harry’s thoughts. “Enough to perk you up for the trip home, but not so much as to keep you awake once you get there.”

“I can’t leave yet, not until I—”

“Harry, you’re exhausted.” Draco shook hir head, sending hir long blond locks swaying. “You played a full-on Seeker’s Match this morning and ran around after the girls and me all afternoon. Then to deal with this mess....” Sie sighed. “And I heard the press conference. They broadcast it on Orb 14 live. What you said, Harry...what you did. I know it’s going to come back at you. For certain your Weasleys and Granger will take issue, but it meant so much to so many.” Sie leaned closer, and traced Harry’s ear with hir lips. “So much to me. If I’d ever doubted that you and I could pair each other well, understand why we each felt passionately about what we do and how and why we do things differently, I would have lost all my uncertainty tonight.” Draco slid around to Harry’s back and firmly massaged his shoulders.

“You know the one thing Paul and I could never get around was that he saw me as someone who’d always need his protection. He didn’t like my dedication to this ‘cause,’ and he couldn’t understand that I’m a fighter too. My weapons aren’t usually spells and hexes—I’ve not been on that kind of frontline since the war—but I have my own strengths. And I need someone who sees that, knows what it is to fight so hard, to keep pushing even when no one else believes. You live that passion, Harry, and that strength, and I cannot tell you how much I admire you for it.

“And how thankful I am that you’re willing to partner me, believe with me that better things are possible.” Draco leaned in and pressed gentle warmth to Harry’s temple.

“Draco,” the Auror groaned, desire and fatigue battling within him.

“I like that you want to take care of me, Harry, but never lose sight of my strength or the fact that I want to take care of you too. So will you come home with me? Now? Get some sleep and let me take care of you, so you’re strong and ready for tomorrow?”

Harry melted into the strong, delicate hands. Never had anyone wanted to care for him like this—but then he’d never had a romantic partner before either, someone to share in his life and give equally of their own. “Gods...Draco, yes. Let’s go home.”


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Triarii-specific Terminology:
Vamar: Parent, usually shortened to vama, or vam
Veru: Triarii spouse


Chapter 9 Review Responses
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you for the reviews!

Jeanne: Thank you! It’s very flattering to have sparked someone else’s imagination! I hope your plotbunnies breed like…erm…bunnies… And I agree I think Hermione’s kinda stuck, you know that type of kid who was praised for being smart and built their entire concept of self around approval from adults and then became an adult who needs approval from the establishment so they don’t really challenge/question anything because deep down they’re afraid to lose that approval…

PantiesAreOverrated: Thank you! I’m such a sucker for aww-moments!

thrnbrooke: Glad you enjoyed, hope this one was as satisfying, and 11 is on the way!

Justmine25: Harry was quick to tell his friends, but now he’s going to get it (as soon as Ron pays out from all his bets *snicker*). On Tonks…patience grasshopper all will be revealed (eventually)!

Whitmore: Yay! Another Dickens fan! I love Hard Times, and agree he was very good about placing realities into contexts that made it “safe” for people to consider the consequences of their actions and beliefs because they were reading fiction. As for escapes? Well, maybe after I’ve finished these next couple of projects. I like those types of stories too!

Rakel: Hmm…don’t know if this was brace-worthy, but it gets bumpier soon enough!