Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Midnight\'s Call	By : newyorican Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 14821 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 1 – Eight Years Later

“In youth we learn; in age we understand.”

/Embry/Harry

THE S.P.M.C.W.’S EQUALITY ACT OF 2006 PASSES IN A LANDSLIDE

Written by: Thelma Jones

Sunday, February 12, 2006

The S.P.M.C.W., or the Society for the Promotion of Magical Creature Welfare, founded by Hermione Weasley, has earned yet another victory. Over the past few months following their latest bold proposal, the Wizengamot has been deliberating over the Equality Act of 2006 very carefully and has finally reached a decision.

“It is this judicial body’s duty to ensure that our fellow citizens are protected, even from our own laws, despite any differences,” Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt declared at the press conference just after the ruling. “Magical creatures should have never been subjected to the grossly demeaning and discriminatory laws passed by former authority figures. Regardless of their non-human status, they are citizens of Wizarding Britain and have the same rights as any other witch or wizard in this country.”

Winning with an outstanding thirty-nine out of fifty votes, the Equality Act of 2006 has been passed and will come into effect immediately. The S.P.M.C.W. feels very accomplished over this latest win. “This should have been done ages ago,” Hermione Weasley, founder of the organization and current Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, stated. “The purpose of the previously harsh laws concerning magical creatures was based on nothing more than old prejudiced views that have been long outdated. It has been proven that recently considered dark creatures are not so different than your average witch or wizard when it comes to basic instincts and values. They are unable to live peaceful lives because of our ignorant beliefs, and that needs to be stopped.”

Former Minister Fudge, 1990-1996, had won much support from the Wizarding public with his harsh laws against many “dark” creatures such as vampires and werewolves in his first year in office. Notorious creatures such as Fenrir Greyback and Lady Carmilla Sanguina had further unintentionally aided Fudge in his declaration that all magical creatures were blood thirsty savages with the desire to prey on the youth. Many previous ministers have also taken this stance and have for the past seventy-seven years.

Weasley retaliates, “You cannot punish an entire group of people for the shortcomings of one. If that were true, why haven’t wizards been severely punished for Lords Grindelwald and Voldemort?”

Current Chief Witch of the Wizengamot, Augusta Longbottom, supports the Equality Act of 2006. “This will improve the affairs between magical creatures and wizardkind,” states Longbottom.

Ronald Weasley, Head of the Auror Office, agreed, “With the improvement of the interactions between wizards and those with non-human blood, we expect the crime rates concerning the supposed “Dark” creatures will steadily decline. Research over the last nine years has proven that because of the laws limiting their freedom and rights, magical creatures had retaliated out of desperation and protection seven times out of ten. Like Harry Potter said before, most of the magical creatures that fought on You-Know-Who’s side did so because they had nothing else to lose. You-Know-Who, the worst Dark Lord of all time, had promised them freedom of prejudices and fear. He promised them the right to live their lives; a right wizards never had the power or authority to take away.”

For more information on the Equality Act of 2006, see page 4.

For more information on the S.P.M.C.W., see page 5.

For the opposition’s rebuttal, see page 6.

Harry smiled fondly and put down the Daily Prophet feeling particularly pleased. He remembered Hermione blabbering on and on about developing S.P.E.W. as if it was only yesterday, and was happy with her latest victory. Eleven years of advocating for the better treatment of those with non-human heritage had finally paid off.

Hermione had opened her eyes wide enough to realize that the House Elves actually enjoyed the servitude they were born into. They weren’t all mistreated and needed the magic only a wizarding family could provide. She hadn’t realized before that her actions, which she’d considered just and right, were taken as her insulting the entire race of House Elves. Other magical creatures, however, hadn’t enjoyed their rights being stripped away. This led to the birth of the revised organization with Harry being somewhat of a silent partner, offering some funding and advice on ways to go about proposing certain laws since Hermione had a tendency to forcefully shove facts down people’s throats.

Harry took a sip of his tea. Everything had changed so much over the last eight years. Wizarding Britain had become a much better place, and Harry was slightly surprised to admit to himself that he missed it. When he left, it was still a mockery of a community. They’d allowed the libel and slander of a minor, passed ridiculous laws, and had a grossly incompetent judicial system. It was flawed, severely, and they hadn’t seemed to have a problem with it.

The war, however, seemed to have a great influence on the Hogwarts graduating class of ‘98. Hermione had thrust herself into the world of politics and fought tooth and nail to improve the world she fell in love with at the tender age of eleven, consequently dragging a bemused and befuddled Ron Weasley with her. Climbing the political ladder had been particularly grueling given her Muggleborn status and the prejudice still infecting the system, but with Shacklebolt as Minister of Magic and Harry giving her permission (in writing with a bit of his magical signature for verification) to take his seats in the Wizengamot, she’d been able to make a difference. The (Potter) voting power she had allowed her to show the world her amazing research skills and gave her the authority to propose new laws, which she’d done in the name of the S.P.M.C.W.

The entire Ministry had undergone a massive clean-up and became a respected body of power. Granted, it took them a long time to get there, but it was better late than never. Harry snorted. He’d partly been the reason the Ministry had changed. Despite being fully aware of how the Wizarding world would react when he left Britain, he hadn’t exactly anticipated how strongly their protests would be.

Two weeks after he began settling into his life with his godson, he received a copy of the corrupt and sycophantic Daily Prophet. His move was not taken well at all (which was a massive understatement) and the writers felt they were justly angry and furious at the abandonment of their savior. Luckily Minister Shacklebolt had had the foresight to hide the custody papers concerning Teddy or the public outrage would have been worse. Harry didn’t mind taking the brunt of ignorant anger as long as Teddy’s safety wasn’t compromised.

Of course, it had still irked him that the public actually believed that he belonged to them. It was like they staked a claim on him; like he was a possession. Harry set them straight very quickly. He had Hermione research privacy laws and in no less than two weeks, Harry was suing the Daily Prophet for all of the slander and libel he’d been subjected to. His sharp, scathing letter to the Wizarding public would have made Snape proud.

Harry smirked. They hadn’t been able to pay him enough to repair the years of abuse he’d endured, so they settled. He now owned the Daily Prophet and a large amount of gold, enabling him to live comfortably for several decades as well as spoil Teddy with toys he’d never been able to receive as a child. With that ownership came freedom from the lies that stirred the public into a rage, and it allowed him some room to breathe. His letter had also nudged Minister Shacklebolt to begin cleaning up the entire pathetic system and the public, thoroughly cowed, didn’t protest too much.

Harry finished his tea and stood gracefully. He stretched and looked out the window, checking on Teddy who was happily playing in the snow in front of their cottage. He smiled softly. Taking care of his godson had been difficult at first. Teddy for the first six months or so suffered from colic and Harry, though he was used to not sleeping very well or long at night, was not used to a tiny baby screaming his lungs out in pain. The first time it happened, he immediately Flooed Mrs. Weasley, babbling about his poor godson being terminally ill and how he was unable to comfort him in the slightest.

The Weasley matriarch, of course, laughed at his worries and handed him several baby books as well as instructing him on methods to help Teddy whilst reminiscing of Percy going through the same thing.

The door opened and Teddy ran inside, shedding snow-covered clothing off as he made his way into the kitchen. “I’m cold,” the little boy complained, his cheeks flushed a pleasant pink.

Harry grinned. “Well, since you’ve been outside in the snow for nearly an hour, I’d say you have good reason to be,” he replied, tone fairly blasé.

“Uncle Harry,” Teddy whined, pouting ever-so-slightly. “Can I have some tea? And some soup to warm up?”

Harry looked at him pointedly. “I don’t know. Can you?”

Teddy rolled his eyes. “May I have some tea and soup?”

Harry nodded his head, satisfied. “I will start making it, but your clothes do not belong on the hallway floor. And you might as well bathe and change into some warm jammies.”

Teddy had the decency to look sheepish before nodding his head and disappearing to do as he was told. Harry chuckled and set to work. His godson had grown in the span of a few days, or so it seemed. He could still remember the mischievous toddler flinging his mushy peas at the wall with his tiny nose scrunched in distaste. Now his godson was seven years old, eight in two months, and it seemed like he didn’t really need his Uncle Harry anymore.

There weren’t really any monsters hiding in his closet anymore. Only silly five year olds believed that nonsense, and Teddy was a big kid.

There wasn’t any need to leave the hallway light on. Only four year olds were scared of the dark.

There wasn’t any need to read him a bedtime story. Only babies and little kids couldn’t read themselves.

His Teddy was growing up so quickly, and Harry didn’t feel like he was twenty-six. A large part of him still felt like he was eighteen and clueless when it came to children. He’d learned a lot raising Teddy, but the one thing he couldn’t (or perhaps it was wouldn’t) learn was letting go.

Granted, Teddy was still too young to be let go of fully, but that didn’t stop Harry from trying to shelter him somewhat. It wasn’t until he became a parent (sort of) that Harry fully understood why Mrs. Weasley worried all the time. Having lived through a war, it gave him a more-than-healthy dose of paranoia and fear. Harry didn’t want Teddy to experience any of that. He didn’t want Teddy to be shunned by children who wouldn’t understand why he had to live with his uncle. He didn’t want Teddy to come home from school crying because everybody else got to make mother’s day and father’s day cards, and Teddy didn’t have a mummy or a daddy to give them to. Harry wanted to shelter Teddy from all of it.

When he told Mrs. Weasley of his fears, she’d smiled softly and patted his face as she said, “You can’t protect him from everything.”

That confused him more than anything. She herself had tried so hard to protect her own children, as well as himself, from almost everything, it’d seemed. Now when he wanted those pearls of wisdom concerning the safety of a tiny life entrusted to him, she wanted him to sort of ease up? Were people even allowed to have such a drastic change of perspective?

“Are you really Molly Weasley?” he’d demanded, eyes narrowed somewhat suspiciously.

Mrs. Weasley had laughed. “I know it’s odd advice coming from me. However, take a moment to think about it. I tried my best to protect all of my children from everything in the world that might hurt them, and do you know what happened? The more I tried to shelter, the more my children walked towards danger. Bill got a job as a curse breaker, Charlie decided to tame dragons, you and Ron were always off on some wild adventure. Protecting your children is not synonymous with keeping them from experiencing life, and it took me quite some time to remember that lesson.”

She was right, of course. He couldn’t protect Teddy from everything out there, and Teddy’s life wouldn’t be nearly as exciting or exuberant if he was sheltered from everything.

It was that final thought that pushed Harry to enroll Teddy in public school. His original excuse to keep Teddy home-schooled had been because of the little boy’s uncontrollable Metamorphmagus abilities. With his hair changing colors with the slightest shift in his emotions, Harry couldn’t let him attend a school full of Muggles. His first thought was to use a potion to somehow hide his Metamorphmagus powers, but to Harry’s dismay the only potions available to somehow alter one’s appearance were invented by a Metamorphmagus. Glamour charms, cosmetic potions and spells, they all were created to mimic a Metamorphmagus’ ability to alter appearance.

The only good thing that had come out of that was the decision to home school Teddy. It seemed like a good way to make sure Teddy got both a Muggle and magical education as well as keep a close eye on the little boy in his care. It also made Hermione happy since Harry had to catch up on his own lacking education from both worlds in order to meet Washington state’s home schooling requirements.

It had also gave Harry something to do other than watch Teddy all the time. He didn’t really have any friends in America, and the ones he did have back home had lives.

The problem with home schooling Teddy was how lonely the little boy had become. He would beg to be let out of the house every day, and when he was allowed, it was only as far as the front of the house. Harry had set up wards around the perimeter to prevent strange people coming onto the property as well as wards to make sure Teddy couldn’t wander off. The once-in-a-few-months trips to the Weasley house during someone’s birthday didn’t give Teddy nearly enough time to socialize with other children.

Harry realized that he, in a way, was raising Teddy the way he’d been raised. He didn’t force Teddy into manual labor or neglect or verbally abuse him, but keeping the small child isolated didn’t do much good either. The realization had weighed his heart down and when Teddy begged again to go the playground with other children, Harry nearly cried. It was never his intention to hurt Teddy; he’d only meant to try to protect the small boy.

In that moment, Harry understood Dumbledore more than he’d ever planned or wanted to…

The problem was soon fixed, however, when after months of grueling practice, Teddy was able to control when he changed his hair color just in time to enroll in second grade. He had a few slips, of course, but the issues in controlling his powers were barely noticeable to the untrained eye.

With Teddy out of the house almost the entire day, Harry nearly worried himself to death and constantly glanced at the clock where Teddy’s hour hand rested on school and minute hand rested on happy. Hermione had suggested he find a hobby or a lover, but since Teddy was and would always be his first priority, Harry decided to take the former advice.

As a result, the outside of his house looked amazing. He had a green thumb and his flowerbeds were proof. Gardening, however, wasn’t enough to keep the war hero occupied and he instead decided to try different forms of art. It turned out Teddy was a much better painter than Harry could ever hope to be, but Harry didn’t mind too much. Of course, he’d been a little offended when Teddy offered to teach him how to paint like a pro (the cheeky little brat) but dabbing paint on the then six-year-old’s nose had been well worth the resulting paint fight. The living room never looked better, if he did say so himself.

Finding a magical community was also rather difficult, so Harry ended up spending most of his time in his house like a hermit. American magic, it turned out, had strong Wiccan roots and didn’t support the use of a wand. While Harry was adept at quite a bit of wandless magic, he refused to do magic without his wand. It was ten inches long, made of oak, and had unicorn hair as its core. His new wand didn’t feel as perfect as his holly wand, which had been destroyed in the war, or as powerful as the Elder wand, which he returned to Dumbledore’s tomb, but it felt right enough.

Finally annoyed with Harry’s whining about not having anything to do all day, Ron suggested he write a book about his troubles. It had been sarcastic, not meant to be taken seriously at all. However, Harry had blinked, thought about it, and decided to give it a try. He’d managed to publish four books under a pen name, and Harry could honestly say he was quite content with what he did. He certainly didn’t need the money, considering the fact that he’d inherited enough to live off of and he also had all that money from the Daily Prophet, but earning the money selling books he’d worked really hard on felt better than using money he felt he didn’t deserve.

“Uncle Harry, I don’t feel so good,” Teddy mumbled from the doorway.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and walked briskly towards his godson, placing a hand on the flushed cheeks. “Well, perhaps you stayed out a tad longer than you should have,” he murmured contemplatively. “You’re a bit warm, but I’m sure some hot soup and a good night’s rest should cure you. Come along now. I’ll tuck you into bed and bring the soup up when it’s done.”

Teddy frowned, disgruntled as Harry picked him up. “I’m not a baby,” he rasped, laying his head down on Harry’s shoulder. “I can walk by myself.”

“You’ll always be my baby,” Harry retorted softly, holding his godson close and enjoying the smaller body pressed against his. He hadn’t been able to hold Teddy like this in quite some time since his adorable little godson was becoming a big, strong kid and, therefore, didn’t need any help doing anything. “Besides, do you really want to walk back up the stairs when you’re feeling so icky?”

“Bad,” Teddy mumbled. “I’m feeling bad, Uncle Harry.”

Harry sighed somewhat sadly. “Bad,” he amended.

Teddy let out a breathless giggle, sounding sleepier by the second. “Fine, but don’t tell Kevin.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the mention of Kevin Newton, Teddy’s best friend for a total of three weeks. He suspected the little boy probably had something to do with Teddy’s suddenly adamant beliefs that about how a boy should act, but he didn’t have anything concrete to say for sure. All he knew was that his little Teddy had been okay with private hugs and kisses, but almost a month ago (when he began to play with Kevin) he suddenly changed his mind and deemed all hugs and kisses girly and uncool.

Harry’s first instinct was to keep the corrupting little twerp as far away from his godson as possible, but he had reminded himself that Kevin was also a child and that Teddy would have to learn some lessons on his own. Instead of locking Teddy in a box again, he would make sure to teach Teddy all the right lessons and show him how to draw his own conclusions.

Because parenting, although very fulfilling and rewarding, was very much like a Quidditch game. He had to wait for the opposition to make their move and then plan to lessen that impact.

At least, that’s how Ron best described it.

Harry gently laid Teddy down in his bed and noted with surprise that the small boy had fallen asleep. He placed his hand on Teddy’s forehead again and nearly yelped at how hot it felt. Taking a deep breath to stop any panic threatening to take over, he calmly walked downstairs, turned off the soup, and retrieved Fever Reducers. He checked the wards before he went back to Teddy’s room, a routine habit that he had no plans of breaking.

Without another thought, he grabbed a book from his room and went to Teddy’s, intent on watching over the small boy until the fever went down. He learned early to wait until he’d exhausted all methods of trying to heal Teddy before raising the alarm and panicking everyone back in Britain. His head had hurt for days after Hermione wacked him good for worrying her over a small fever that had went away in a few hours.

Harry shuddered.

Opening his book and preparing for a long night, Harry sat next to Teddy’s bed and began to read, ignorant of the body looming outside of the house.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Midnight\'s Call