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Angry Harry and the Seven by Sinyk

Hey Guys, this story is written by Sinyk on fanfic net. This is not my work. The only reason I am putting this up is because someone has copied Sinyk's entire work word-for-word on this site (claiming it as his own: Harry Potter and the 7 angers), releasing it at a snail's pace, and is also making money off of it on patreon. Pisses me off to no end. Art is by CruderFive1 on DeviantArt ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Okay, guys and... guyettes, This one is of epic length. And by that I mean really really long. For those who sent me a note about 'Four Heirs' and thought it long - well, this one blows that one out of the water for length. So, if something only up to - say - 150k words is your cup o' tea, then this isn't for you. No sir-ree! This story hits approximately 480k words. To stop all the whining and bitching right now - yeah, like that's ever going to happen - you'll figure out this is a 'Haphne' story; Dumbledore is (somewhat) good but still manipulative as per canon; Ron's an ineffective non-entity; Snape tries to keep sticking his beak in - and get's it repeatedly thwacked with a rolled-up newspaper; McGonagall gets over her hero-worship of DumDum (I mean, Dumbledore); Hermione is a good friend; Sirius is free; kids are kids; and teenagers are walking bags of hormones. The story follows canon a lot; and I've even included many quoted sections out of the books. I didn't do this to pinch JKR's works. Rather, it's in there to demonstrate similarities while being a different story. So, no biatching about that, either. You've been well and truly warned. Yours, Da crazy bastard who thinks he's an author. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

H3llhound2dea1h · Phim ảnh
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87 Chs

Chapter Fifty Nine - World Cup Chaos

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Fifty Nine - World Cup Chaos

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

After a few days at Bones Manor with Susan and Hannah, Harry was back at Greengrass Estate and excited. They would be heading out, just after lunch, for the campground where the Quidditch World Cup was being held. The only thing he wasn't excited about was the portkey they'd have to use to get there. Merlin, he hated portkeys.

To use the portkey, they had to all troop outside of the wards around the Estate and up a hill on the other side. Hermione and the Grangers were with them. They arrived when there was about five minutes to go and were joined by another family, the Davises.

Turning to Daphne, Harry said, "I never realised just how physically close you and Tracey lived to one another."

She smiled and said, "The benefits of wizarding transport means distance is often irrelevant."

Cygnus bent down and picked up an old hubcap and held it out to everyone. "Just a finger will do," he said. And everyone reached in just before the timer set it off.

A few moments later Harry found himself sprawled on damp grass just inside the tree-line of a small copse of trees.

With her tinkling laughter ringing in Harry's ears, Daphne bent down to help him to his feet; and was assisted by Hermione. Harry was muttering sulphurously to himself.

"Language, dear," she gently admonished him. Together, they followed the others towards a small shack.

"I don't understand you, Harry," said Hermione. "As magically powerful as you are, and you cannot manage to land properly from a portkey."

"They hate me, Hermione," he grouched. "They just hate me."

After getting directions to their campsite, and paying a small fee, the group headed over a small rise. And Harry got his first look at the grounds beyond. In the near distance he saw the most amazing sight, a huge, completely ringed by grandstands, Quidditch pitch. And it was built out in the middle of nowhere.

Surrounding it between them and the pitch were literally hundreds of small tents. Some appeared no bigger than a one person pup tent; others looked like two storied ones in the shape of an outhouse dunny; and all were very colourful.

Not realising he'd stopped until Daphne turned back to call to him, Harry had to hurry to catch up before he became lost.

They walked down between the tents through what was clearly an open designated corridor. Then, very close to the huge and imposing structure, the adults stopped.

"Ah! Here we are," said Cygnus. The man turned off the path and stepped through the flap of what looked like a tall four-person tent. The Davises stepped into a similar one alongside.

"Errr - how are we all going to fit into that?" asked Wendell.

Isabel smiled and said, "Step inside and you'll see."

Following behind the others, who all seemed to crowd inside, Harry heard gasps of amazement from the Grangers. When he stepped inside himself he could see why. The inside was much, much, bigger than the outside.

They were greeted by the Greengrass house elves, Dobby and Petey.

Petey looked up at Harry and said, "This way, Master Harry."

Surprised to see a Potter elf here, Harry just followed along behind. They went up a flight of stairs - yes, stairs - to the next floor and Petey led him to a bedroom. "This be your room, Master Harry."

"Thank you, Petey," he automatically replied.

Inside, Harry found a large canopied bed with a small wardrobe combination off to one side. Through another door, he found a small ensuite bathroom with an actual shower, toilet and hand basin. It was amazing. From outside he was sure the entire tent would be able to fit inside just his ensuite.

'I love magic,' he happily thought.

Returning back downstairs in the common room of the tent, Daphne awaited him. "There you are," she said. "What kept you?"

"My mind. I'm trying to get my head around the impossibility of this tent," he replied.

She gave him a curious look before she brightened in understanding. "Wizard space," she firmly stated. "You've seen how our trunks use wizard space - and the ballroom at home - but you've not seen it on this scale before."

"No," he replied. "I find it - a little difficult to just shrug it off, at the moment."

She nodded a little for a moment or two before asking, "Feel like having a wander around outside? The chance to mingle with so many people from so many different parts of the world doesn't come along all that often."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said.

Together, they stepped out of the tent.

"Hang on," she said, "I'll get Tracey. From there, we'll see who else we can track down."

While waiting outside as Daphne ducked into the next tent, Harry took a look around. It all looked really peculiar. He saw a man walking past wearing a woman's terry cloth nightgown and wearing a pair of rubber boots; another was wearing tie-dyed jeans and a striped business shirt with white cuffs. 'Didn't those shirts go out of style a decade ago?' he thought.

While waiting on Daphne and Tracey he heard a shout of, "Oi! - Harry!"

Turning, he saw Neville with Hannah and Susan hurrying over.

"Hi guys!" he called back.

As they came up, Neville asked, "Where's everyone else?"

Indicating the Davis's tent he said, "Daphne just went into the Davis's to get Tracey..." then, indicating the Greengrass tent, "... and Hermione is still in there."

Susan and Hannah gave him a brief hug each, before they ducked into the Greengrass tent, probably to track down Hermione. Looking back at Neville, Harry asked, "Seen anyone else we know?"

Gesturing further down the lane towards the pitch, Neville replied, "Sirius and Remus are sharing a tent down there. Remus is still recovering from the full moon of a couple of days ago. I'm in with the Abbotts, as is Susan, in a tent between here and there.

"From what I can gather, this entire row is all Ancient Houses - Well, British Ancient Houses, at any rate. Backed on to us are the Australians, New Zealanders and Pacific Islander Ancient and Great Houses, and the American Great and Senior Houses are on the other side of them." Gesturing across the other side, he said, "Over there are the Europeans. There's Ancient, Elder, Great, Major, Senior, Venerable, and other style Houses that are similar to our own Ancients."

"Wow!" said Harry, impressed. "How does anyone keep track of them all?"

"That's what the Department of International Magical Cooperation is responsible for," grinned Neville. "They keep track of them. Personally, I think it'd just give me an ongoing and constant headache."

Harry grinned back just as Susan and Hannah popped out with Hermione in tow. "Ready?" asked Susan.

Turning to look at her, Harry was just about to say they were waiting on Daphne and Tracey when both girls came out of the other tent. "Ah!" he said, instead. "Anyone know if Luna's here?"

"She's off with her father searching for some - thing," replied Hermione. "I think they went to some Scandinavian country."

"Sweden, I think," said Susan.

"Then, this looks like all of us," said Daphne with a grin. "Let's see what we can see; and who else we might find here."

Harry, for one, shrugged and smiled back.

Neville, indicating the way away with a noble gesture and a courtly bow, said, "Then, after you, my ladies."

Harry and Neville walked behind the girls and chatted about what they were seeing around them. The girls were looking around. When they stopped to ask someone for directions to the 'market' the girls headed off that way.

After a little while watching them, Harry said to Neville, "Nev? You're supposed to be my bro', right?"

"Right," said Neville in that drawl that says he was wondering where Harry was going with his question.

"Then, how come you've never told me how the good the view is from back here?" asked Harry indicating the tight attire of the girls ahead, and grinning at his mate.

Neville grinned back and said, "Because Hogwarts robes don't give as good a view?"

The two boys snickered at one another. The bad news for them was that Hannah overheard at least some of what they said to one another.

She suddenly spun around and glared back at the two of them.

"Uh-oh!" said Neville quietly.

"And just what are you two reprobates talking about?" she asked ominously.

"Errr - We're just admiring the view?" said Harry.

"Yes! - Errr - Lots to see!" stuttered Neville.

They might have got away with it if both boys weren't blushing profusely and looking chagrined. After that, they were sent ahead.

"What did they do?" Hermione quietly asked the blonde 'Puff.

Hannah smirked and replied, "They were staring at our - tushies."

Hermione blushed and quietly stammered, "Oh! - I'm - Oh!"

Hannah just grinned back as her Gryffindor friend tried to get her head around that bit of information.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

After an afternoon of running about the Group returned to their respective tents and would meet up together again in the box Sirius had secured for them. Apparently, it was in the box directly underneath the one that would contain Minister Fudge, the Minister of Magic from Bulgaria, and a couple of other guests.

After a hurried dinner lovingly provided by the Greengrass house elves and Dobby, the Greengrasses, Grangers and Harry hurried along the path towards the tent where Sirius and Remus were staying. There, they waited for the others to arrive.

Once everyone was there, Sirius led them to a ticket gate and on up into the tribunes completely surrounding the pitch. The noise was already quite loud.

Once in their 'box' and everyone was comfortable, they waited. Harry opened up the bag he was carrying and handed out omnioculars to everyone.

"Harry?" asked Sirius, when a pair was passed to him. "Where'd you get these?"

"From a vendor in the market area this afternoon," replied Harry. "I've checked them all to ensure they work. And these are all the deluxe pairs."

Sirius laughed and started using his. He also showed Hermione how to use them while Cygnus showed Wendell and Isabel showed Monica.

When it felt like they were waiting forever, they heard the opening announcement from just above them.

"Ladies and gentlemen - welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce - the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval

"Veela!" cried Sirius. "Ladies, hold on to the menfolk!"

"What are veel -?" Harry started to ask.

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women - the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen - except that they weren't - they couldn't be - human. Harry was puzzled for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be.

But then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human - in fact, he almost stopped worrying about anything at all. The veela had started to dance, and Harry's mind felt a bit cloudy - confused.

As the veela danced faster and faster, his confusion deepened. He felt like he should do something very impressive. He turned to Daphne and asked, "What's going on?"

"It's the Veela, Harry" said Daphne's voice as if from a long way off.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. It took a moment for everything to snap back into proper focus. Next to him, Hannah was giggling at Neville, who had whipped his upper robes off and was now blushing while he hurriedly pulled them back on. Sirius had been held by Tracey and Susan, who had been trying to stop him jumping off the balcony, but was now looking a little sheepish. Monica had held Wendell but he was apparently unaffected by it, and Isabel had held Cygnus with Astoria's help.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Harry was with them. He wasn't supporting either team, but those veela sure did something to his insides.

"And now," roared the voice from above, "kindly put your wands in the air - for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow suddenly arced across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it. As the shamrock soared over them, heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off the floorboards and seats of the box above them.

When he next saw the shamrock, Harry realized it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Cygnus over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!"

"Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field. Harry spun a small dial on the side of his Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firebolt" on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other.

Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch.

With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed the announcer. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his eyes that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.

Harry spun the slow dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums.

The game spun up faster and faster with all players 'lifting their game'. However, Ireland was drawing further and further ahead; until, eventually...

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" shouted Sirius.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose where he'd been hit by a bludger earlier, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a huge jet was revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" the announcer shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess."

Harry put his Omnioculars to his eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but he could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots.

Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared the announcer.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" shouted the announcer.

And, above them, they heard the steps of the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively. Harry could see thousands and thousands of omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction.

Sirius stood up and said, "Shall we go? We might be able to beat the crowds back out to the tents. We won't see anything else now."

Cygnus and Wendell both nodded, as did Monica and Isabel a few moments later.

While they were leaving, the Irish team had entered to collect their prize and then left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The group were able to return quickly to their tents. However, they were, by no means, the only ones who left before all the announcements were finished. There was already a bit of an exodus leading out of the stadium.

Though he was excited watching the game, it had still proven to be a day full of excitement and movement. So, Harry and the other children were soon sent early to bed.

"Harry! Wake up!" came the voice. At first, Harry thought he'd been hearing things.

Then a house elf popped in and said, "Young Master must be getting up. There be trouble and you must leave."

He quickly donned his dark jeans, t-shirt, wand holster and lightweight dark jacket; before then quickly pulling on his trainers. Leaving everything else, knowing the house elves would take care of it, Harry ducked out and down to the common room.

"What's going on?" he asked, quite concerned.

Remus came in through the flaps and said, "There's some trouble going on within the campground not far from here. It looks like Death Eaters. I'm here to get you all out of here."

Harry quickly looked around and saw that Cygnus was the only one missing by the time Remus stopped speaking. "Where's Cygnus?" asked Harry.

"He's off helping others to get away, and see if he can deal with the Death Eaters," replied the old wolf. "Now, come on. It's time to leave." And he held the tent flap open while everyone filed out.

It was pandemonium outside the tent. Harry could see a couple of large fires burning not far from them. There was lots of shouting and screaming. People were fleeing up and over the rise towards the copse they arrived in yesterday.

As they started to move in the same direction, Harry heard the screams of a little girl. Instead of following everyone else, he headed that way. He thought he'd grab the little girl and carry her over the hill to safety.

Moving swiftly and using his recently honed seeker skills of dodging and tracking, Harry zeroed in on the sound. A little girl was lying next to a tent, injured. It appeared her arm was broken.

As he moved towards her, he stepped through a gap between the tents. That's when he saw the robes and masks. The robes were over-robes in flat black; but the masks were of hideously twisted bone white faces.

He didn't care if people wanted to play dress-up. There was enough of that sort of thing before the game. But three of the half dozen masked people had other people levitated into the air. And those people appeared writhing in agony.

Harry quickly cast a Sleep Charm on the little girl so she'd no longer be in pain. He then stepped out and quite aways from her into the clear line of those - masked mongrels coming toward him. He also quickly reviewed the Glamour Charms he read while he lived at The Leaky Cauldron, and cast a few to alter his appearance.

He ran through his spell chains and gathered magical energy. Very soon, leaves, other debris and untrammelled blades of grass swirled around him. With wand in hand he began to calmly stalk towards the masked mongrels.

One looked up and saw him calmly walking towards them. He, or she, said something to one of the others and they both laughed.

The one who first saw Harry raised his wand and cast. Harry heard the cry, "Diffindo!" and a blood red beam of spell fire headed straight for him. He was still far enough away, he could easily dodge; so he merely took a step to the side as the spell headed towards him. More of a jink, really. And allowed it to slip past him.

The masked one cast another spell. And this one Harry just batted away, not even breaking stride.

Then it happened. The mask one raised his wand high and brought down with a cry of "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry sidestepped the Killing Curse and let rip. He had the caster down, bound and out in seconds. His - friends - did not even know something had happened to him until he toppled to the ground in front of one of them. The masked one's wand was on the ground at Harry's feet.

Harry wanted those masks off, so he tried to summon them. It didn't work. So, he just cut loose with spellchains.

It would have very quickly turned into a five against one odds, except the three who had the three people levitated weren't paying attention to what was going on around them; so sure in their safety with their friends, they were. It was their folly.

Harry had the second man down - it was definitely a male voice casting out loud - bound and out before a third could join in. He then hit the man who had the little girl levitated in the back of the head with a bludgeoner, and hope he killed the mongrel. A quick Levitation Charm and Harry made sure the little girl reached the ground safely.

However, the little girl suddenly disappearing from the skies alerted the other three that something was wrong. The other two who had people in the air dropped them. Harry was only able to catch the little girl, and hoped the man didn't break his neck, or something when he landed.

Harry exchanged spellfire with another. This time he missed with the Incarceration Charm but tagged the caster in his wand arm with a Severing Charm which almost severed the arm completely.

As the man screamed in pain, Harry heard someone off to his left shout, "Morsmordre!". A green beam shot into the sky and flashed like a small ball of green lightning. The clouds roiled.

Where the masked mongrels were, one of the still standing ones suddenly bent down and grabbed one of the tied up ones before disappearing with the body in a portkey swirl. The others quickly followed. However, they left the one Harry first tagged. He was behind them and obviously forgotten.

Harry looked to where he saw the green ball lightning and saw what appeared to be a huge smoky cloud in the form of a skull with a snake moving and weaving in and out of the eye sockets and open mouth.

He stalked over to the bound and unconscious man, bent down and ripped the facemask off with his off hand. He didn't know who it was but he looked a little familiar.

He was trying to review his memories to see if he knew the man when there was a couple of cracks of apparation arrival and a bark of "Aurors!" from behind him.

Turning around he saw two men wearing auror robes. One had his wand pointed straight at Harry. "Drop your wand!" he barked.

"What the bloody hell took you so long?" Harry barked back, holding his wand down and to the side. "Have to wait to finish your cup of tea, did you? Pathetic!

"Now get over here!" he snarled. "I've caught one of the mongrels but the rest portkeyed away." And Harry flicked the mask at the feet of the auror who was still aiming his wand at him.

"I said, drop your wand," the auror barked again.

Harry sighed and made a mocking show of dropping his wand. "Happy? Mister I-Think-I'll-Take-My-Own-Sweet-Time-Getting-Here Man?" he snarked.

The auror glared back but didn't respond as he summoned Harry's wand to his hand. He then drew a silver shield from his robes in his off hand and spoke into it. "I've caught one of the culprits," he said.

"You - didn't catch shit, bobby. I did!" snarked Harry.

A couple more cracks of apparation and two more people had arrived. One was Aunt Amelia.

"Johnson; report!" she barked.

"I've caught one of the culprits, Ma'am!" the idiot replied, indicating Harry.

"Merlin! You're an idiot!" snarked Harry before he turned to Amelia. "Hello, Aunt Amelia," he said, calmer. "This piece of trash at my feet was one of the masked morons responsible for some of this - carnage here."

Amelia glared at him for a few moments before recognition dawned on her face. "Harry?" she cried.

"In the flesh and glamoured up," replied Harry.

Amelia gave her wand a quick pass over him and a muttered, "Finite!" Harry felt the glamour fade away.

"Harry!" she sighed almost plaintively. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"I heard a little girl screaming in fear and pain," he replied. "She's over there under a Sleeping Charm, by the way," he gestured to where she was. "That's when I saw these masked morons," he gestured at the man still bound and unconscious at his feet, "casting spells willy-nilly."

Gesturing at the three people on the ground behind them, "They had those three levitated in the air and it looked like they were torturing them. I was not going to stand by and allow it to happen any longer.

"I managed to get three of the six, but the remaining three managed to grab two of the one's I'd already taken down and portkeyed away with them," he replied. "This one they forgot, though," he said lightly kicking the still bound and unconscious man in the ribs.

One of the uniformed aurors looked at the man and said, "That's Regulus Crabbe!"

Amelia sighed and said, "Harry; it's not your job to go after the bad guys. You could have been seriously hurt; if not killed!"

"Aunt Amelia," said Harry. "The wartime British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, once said, 'One ought never to turn ones back on a threatened danger and try to run away from it. If you do that, you will double the danger. But if you meet it promptly and without flinching, you will reduce the danger by half. Never run away from anything. Never!' I happen to believe the same creed."

"It's still not your job!" she snapped.

"And the people whose job it was weren't here!" he bit back. "Ten minutes it took them to get here. That's pathetic for a team that's capable of instant travel. You really need to give some consideration to establishing a ready reaction force of aurors who can far more promptly respond to these sorts of incidences."

She glared back at him for a few moments before she relaxed and sighed. "I cannot argue against that," she said much more calmly. "However, your family are worried about you. Use your ring and go to your family. I'll stop by tomorrow to talk to you, alright?"

Harry nodded and held his hand out to the auror who summoned his wand off the ground. Resheathing it he said, "The masked moron's wand is over there on the ground." And indicated the area. "You'll find one of his last spells was the Killing Curse."

Amelia whirled around to look where Harry indicated and stalked over. She quickly spotted it and levitated it before dropping it in an evidence bag.

Returning, she said, "Got it. Now, you, scram!"

Harry lifted his ring to his lips and lightly pressed on it. With a whispered, "Potter Manor" he was gone.

As soon as he arrived in the Entrance Hall at his rightful home he went to the fireplace and floo'ed to Greengrass Estate.

After being yelled and shouted at, especially from a tearful Daphne, he explained what happened. Soon after, he and the other children were sent off to bed.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Late the next morning, Aunt Amelia stopped by and collected his memory of the events. She also wanted to hear more of his idea of a ready reaction force.

"It's quite simple, actually," said Harry, as he talked to her at the informal dining table over a cup of tea. "You set up, for instance, four teams. Rotate them in shifts of eight hours around the clock - eight hours 'on'; twenty four hours 'off'. That's one example.

"Their sole job is to be ready at a moment's notice to go to a scene. And they go in ready to start casting in a hostile environment as soon as they arrive. These four teams have only the one job. They do not tend to issues relating to a shopkeeper catching a thief, or investigating why little Johnnie ran away, or similar. And they do not patrol. As such, they are - for the duration of their shift - armoured-up and ready to deploy. It should take them no more than ten seconds from the time the alert comes in, to them apparating away.

"The only thing that should slow them down is intelligence. That is, what it is they're facing, where they'll be facing it, and how they're to face it. Everything else is irrelevant until they're on the ground.

"They're combat specialists. They stay together and apart from the rest of your auror force, who do more normal policing duties. They train together, eat together, work together. If an incident involving a spell battle is happening, they go in fast and hot, ready to take down everyone. They have the attitude of 'stun first and ask questions later'. None of this calling out 'Aurors!' first nonsense.

"And, if the bad guys are using lethal force, they must be prepared to use the same right back. This is what the muggle police forces of countries right around the world have learned over the past fifty years. It took them all losing many hundreds of police officers each, before they finally realised this is what they needed to do.

"Do you understand?" asked Harry

Amelia sighed and said, "I'd never get the funding or the permission from the Minister's office to do it, though."

"Think about this," said Harry. "How many lives would have been saved in the last stoush with Riddle if you had these teams established? How many were lost due to a slow response time?"

"Countless," she sighed.

"You know as well as I do that the prophecy means Riddle will find a way back," sighed Harry. "So, what will be your role in all this? As much as I will be his primary target, you're also on his radar."

Though she did not understand the term 'radar', she understood its intent.

"Fudge is the problem right now," she said. "And his little toady, Madam Umbridge. Fudge is firmly in Malfoy's pocket. We have to get rid of him and replace him with someone who's incorruptible. However, as soon as we do that, Malfoy will - take measures - to see them replaced by yet another puppet he can put in his pocket."

"Then, how can one go towards donating a hefty sum to the auror department to ensure more aurors are permanently hired?" asked Harry. "And to make sure the money is not - shall we say - siphoned off onto other projects?"

"It won't work," she smiled. "As soon as I submit a budget - and I have to - the Minister will know of the donation. There's no way to slip something like that through. Thank you for the thought, though."

Thinking hard, Harry had a sudden idea. "What's the law regarding private security forces?" he asked.

"They're illegal," replied Amelia, before she delayed a little and said, "Mostly."

"Mostly?" asked Harry.

"As a Head of an Ancient House you're permitted a team of bodyguards," she replied.

"How many?" asked Harry, wondering if he'd found a loophole.

"There isn't an actual number, if I recall," she replied. "But they must be there for bodyguard purposes."

"And if I wanted - say - one hundred bodyguards?" he asked.

"You'd have to be prepared to argue for a need for them," she replied.

"Hmmm," he said. "Well, there's me, my betrothed, three immediate members of her family, my godfather, my honourary uncle, my godbrother, my honourary grandmother, my two protectees, three family members of my protectees, and that's before I even start on my friends and their families. That's fourteen.

"Of course, I cannot expect a bodyguard to be in top form twenty four hours a day. They need to be in teams of four - no - five. That's a cadre of bodyguards seventy strong right there.

"Now, I cannot allow there to be any problems with my bodyguard cadre not working well with the aurors. They should be able to get on and understand each other's - ways of doing things. So, of course, I should be formally requesting of the Head of the DMLE the opportunity for my bodyguards to spend time working together with her aurors; learning how each other do things.

"Of course, I cannot ask the DMLE to send its busy aurors to my bodyguards. I'll just have to send my bodyguards to work with the DMLE wherever the DMLE are. If, of course, you have the room to put them. Would that work for you?"

Amelia burst out laughing and replied, "I have no idea if it will work or not. But I'll find out how many bodyguards you may be limited to having. I don't think anyone's asked before."

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-==(oIo)==-

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Once again this is not my work. Original work is written by Sinyk on fanfic.net

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