The atmosphere inside the Wizengamot Chamber was thick, an almost tangible tension that made even the floating torches flicker as if suffocating on the unease in the air.
With the news that was going around, it was obvious why it was like this, and everyone was worried about how things were going to move forward.
Narcissa Malfoy sat poised in her seat near the center dais, the hem of her silver dress folded neatly against the marble. Her posture was the only thing preventing her from slumping, a black trait perfected through years of weathering public scrutiny. Around her, the great and powerful of magical Britain murmured like anxious schoolchildren in a playground.
Honestly, where had things changed. She looked around her and couldn't stop the frown on her face. Once, these meetings had been something of a proper court. With the lords and ladies acting like, well, lords and ladies, now they were just like fools playing around, and it annoyed her greatly.
She remembered when she followed her grandfather to the court during his time when he had brought her along to teach her, like he had done with all his grandchildren, bringing each of them to show them the proper behavior of noble wizards and witches.
How he would have them sit by his side as the meetings went on. He always paired them in twos, it wasn't wrong for a lord to bring their children to show them around, but all at once would not do, so always in twos. Luckily, it was her and Regulus, Bella and Sirius for some reason, and Andromeda came alone with him.
She smiled at the thought of Regulus, then frowned at Andromeda. She never understood why he favored her like that, but she shook her head, she really didn't want to think about her disowned sister at this moment.
She focused back on the room, it was different from normal, different from how it usually was, mainly because of the people that were here and those that weren't, it was different from the last meeting.
The last time this entire council had been called, her husband and the other lords of the Dark Lord's faction had been alive and held a lot of sway here.
After the last war, the dark faction had the higher power, and the light practically had to fight every meeting if they wanted something to get done, and it was only because the grey faction didn't want to allow the dark faction to win that allowed the light to not outright lose at every meeting.
But today was not about any of that, today was about the news that she knew everyone had already heard before even coming here.
Three Great figures were gone, three Titans of the wizarding world were gone.
Voldemort, Grindelwald, and Dumbledore. Those three may have been old, but that did not make them any less powerful. Even Dumbledore, whom she did not like, was someone she knew and respected in terms of power, and the man was dead.
Still, while it was something that all three were gone, it was more terrifying for her since she knew who was really responsible for their death.
Harry Potter.
Sure, she didn't know what really happened, she knew he was the reason they were dead, after all, he did tell her that he killed the darklord.
And then the news of the three fighting and dying started floating around, and she knew it was him, because she knew that what happened there was not a battle between wizards.
To the wider world, it may have been a legendary thing that they wish they could have seen, and it did sound like those epic tales you'd hear, but if only it were.
The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, stepped up as he looked around the hall. He looked less like a figure of authority and more like a man standing before a firing squad.
His usual smug confidence was no longer there, honestly, it hadn't been there for a while, since the return of the dark lord.
His hat was clutched in his fingers, his face drenched with sweat despite the mild chill maintained by the chamber's powerful cooling charms.
He began, fumbling through empty condolences and patriotic speeches about sacrifice and unity. How Dumbledore had fought for them, saving them from the evil of the dark lords.
He spoke of a "New Era for Magical Britain," coming and of "peace after the storm," quickly bringing up the recent deaths of those so called 'Brave lords' that had fought the dark lord and died, she heard snorts at that from a lot of the light faction and even some of the grey faction.
While the man rambled on she looked around, The Nott sit was empty for now as the only one left for the house was the child of lord nott who was in hogwarts, right now, on the parkinson sit was the lady of the house, carrow was empty, avery was the brother of the former lord, rosier was empty too, lestrange was empty as always since the last war. The other seats were all like that for most of the dark faction, either empty or with some relative who could take the place.
Narcissa's sharp blue eyes roamed the room. She knew that a lot of the people of the dark faction were still wondering what happened to their lords and why the darklord killed them, or so they said.
She could see the same on their faces when Fudge mentioned their deaths, she herself didn't know how her husband ended up dead and had wondered what happened...well, that was before. Now, knowing about Potter, she could guess what happened. He had killed them.
The how was something she didn't know, and honestly, it was better like that.
She knew better than to poke too much into it, especially after seeing the result of his battle.
She had used her influence to quietly get to see the site of the battle in the Highlands. What she found there had haunted her ever since. The land itself was scarred, not in the way that you see when wizards decided to just destroy things, no. While it had all that, it was the area itself that scared her. It was like magic had died there. It felt empty and draining. She had felt like the area itself was crying and trying to take the magic of those around them to try to fix the area.
As a person who believed in magic above anything that had scared her, she had left that place in an instant. The only thing she could think of was that that was the battlefield of a Heretic God against a Campione.
Harry Potter had fought a literal deity, and he had won.
Fudge's desperate droning about 'securing the future' finally stopped. He shuffled his notes nervously, avoiding eye contact as he cleared his throat.
"Ah… that concludes today's meeting," he stammered, his eyes darting across the chamber, like he was thinking of running out, before taking a breath. "However—ah—there is… another matter we must discuss." The change in his tone was stark, immediately cutting through the council's boredom.
He gestured toward the aides near the doors. "If you are not a sitting Lord or Lady of your House, kindly leave the room."
That got attention. A few raised brows, a few whispers of confusion from those who had never before been excluded from Wizengamot business. After a long, agonizing minute, the junior officials and aides left, closing the massive, enchanted doors with a heavy clang that echoed the finality of the action.
Only the true, dynastic power of Magical Britain remained as it should be.
Fudge swallowed, his throat clicking audibly. "I have called you here for something else, too." He stopped, his gaze sweeping the room. Then, as if forced to say the name.
"Harry Potter."
The room stilled immediately. Narcissa sat up straighter, every sense now alert. She saw the familiar flicker of confusion, contempt, and faint irritation on many faces.
They were used to the Minister slandering the boy for months, the hero turned public nuisance, turned hero again, a source of amusement for the Dark faction, and a nuisance for the neutral ones, from the amount of time the minister wasted on the matters of the boy.
The Minister seemed incredibly nervous now, fidgeting with his robes and practically sweating through his green bowler hat.
'Ah. He must have realized whom he had been picking a fight with for nearly a year.' It was an utterly humiliating moment for a man who had built his career on a slick, oily tongue and the art of denial to have been picking a fight with a child. It brought her a faint sense of amusement to see him realize what he had done.
He cleared his throat. "I… wh…" he started, utterly lost for words. To see this normally smooth man tongue-tied in his own meeting was something the council had never witnessed. He took a long, shaky breath, leaned forward as if he had just given up on twisting words, and spoke bluntly, "Harry Potter is a Campione."
Silence.
The pause was so profound that Narcissa could hear the muffled sound of her own heart beating against her ribs. Then, the entire chamber erupted in a storm of disbelief and fury.
"What?" A young Lord yelled, leaping to his feet, a sneer of contempt twisting his features. "Don't be absurd! Campione are myths! scare stories!"
Lady Parkinson cried. "Minister, this is not a joke! Are you unwell?"
Fudge slammed his hands against the table, his voice cracking and raw. "It is not a joke! I said Harry Potter is a Campione!"
The outburst shocked the room quiet again. The man's face was deathly pale, his expression one of utter defeat, but his eyes were deadly serious.
"I assure you, I speak the truth. The stories you were told as children, the Heretic Gods, the Kings who slay them, they are real. And one of them now lives among us." His voice dropped to a near whisper, yet it carried through the silenced hall.
A sickening chill rippled through the chamber.
Lady Parkinson was the first to reclaim a semblance of composure. "Minister, are you telling us that the stories about Campione, those monsters from legend, truly exist?"
Fudge nodded grimly. "They exist."
Suddenly, one lord Avery rose up, "And why were we not told all this, campiones exsit, and the ministry is hiding sure information from its lords," he yelled out.
"You were told, or at least the lords that were here," Fudge said, catching the whole room off guard.
They were told when? Did Lucius know? No, she shook her head, if he did, he would not have dismissed them like he did.
" Yes, all those who are lord and high ranking members of the ministry are told, but over the years, it became that nobody longer believed in them and just brushed them off when told."
And suddenly, a memory of Lucius telling her about when he became lord and the ridiculous story he was told came to mind. She could see others in the hall realizing it, realizing that it had not been a joke.
"It was only because heretic gods and campione business had not affected us that most had forgotten about them, and I want you all to know that now we have one of those monsters here, so do not do anything stupid," he said outright.
He looked around, his gaze holding a hint of desperation. "We have already antagonized him so much, and it would not do for him to decide to kill us all, so from now on, Harry Potter is off limits regardless of what happens."
A lot of the people there started shouting in outrage and complaining, so were they just supposed to sit back and let the boy do whatever he wanted?
Narcissa didn't join the shouts. She, too, would have been outraged if she hadn't felt his power before for herself, even as little as he had shown her during their meeting. She simply leaned back into her chair, her hands folded.
It's because they don't understand that's why they are like this. If these people find out that the battle between those three had actually been Potter, she wondered what faces they would be making because that battle had caused quakes all around Scotland.
And fudge knew that, yet it looked like the man wasn't about to tell, did he want to not be the only one to go down if some of them decided to look for Potter's attention.
What a sly man. Fudge slowly took off his hat, looking suddenly ten years older.
"From this day forth," he said quietly, "no one in this Ministry is to interfere with Lord Potter. I am issuing a decree. If you value your life, or your house, you will leave him be."
That caused another outcry, but Fudge cut them off with a ragged, guttural snarl.
"Do what you wish, but the Ministry will not save you if you provoke him. The International Confederation of Wizards (ICW) itself could not protect you from one of them."
He was making sure they understood that any matter involving Harry was now something the ministry would interfere with.....yet he still wasn't mentioning the truth about the death of the three. Yeah, the man was now just saying all this to provoke some poor fool.
He straightened his robes, turned, and left without another word. The great doors slammed shut behind him, sealing the council into their terror.
For a moment, the chamber was utter chaos. Questions, shouting, some panic, and others were already looking to catch Potter's attention.
Narcissa simply stood, adjusting the smooth fabric of her gloves. She didn't share their panic. Fear was a given in the situation, but they should have some dignity for Merlin's sake.
She left the chamber before it became unbearable, stepping into the relatively calm silence of the corridor.
In the corridor, her thoughts swirled into a frenzy of planning. She could almost hear her grandfather's voice, Arcturus Black's warnings of gods and devils beyond comprehension, tales he used to tell them. "If you ever meet a Campione, flee. Never oppose one. They are forces of nature."
Now, A Slayer of Gods bore the name Black. Harry Potter was Lord Black. Sure, he was a potter, but his grandmother was Dorea Potter nee black, her grandfather's little sister, so at the end, one could say a black was still lord of the house, and that was good enough for her, and he Campione. A tyrant King.
A Black, A Campione. She couldn't help but square her shoulders.
And she was lucky that he didn't seem to hold anything against her, that was good, though she had to find a way to smooth things between him and Draco, though that would be difficult. 'Impossible,' her mind added, but she shook it out. None of those negative thoughts now.
She was sure they could work it out, after all, they were both in the same year and had been for 5 years now, this was the opportunity. If the Malfoy family was to survive the New Age, if she was to protect Draco, they needed the favor of the King.
As she stepped out of the Ministry atrium, into the fading afternoon light, a sudden flutter of wings caught her attention. A magnificent, snow-white owl descended gracefully, landing on the ornate railing beside her.
"Ah," she breathed, recognizing the bird immediately. She had seen it by Harry's side when they met, so she would assume she was his.
The owl extended its leg, offering a sealed envelope bearing the proud Black family crest. Narcissa took it carefully, breaking the seal.
Lady Malfoy, we weren't able to finish our conversation before you. I would like to invite you again to continue our meeting. —H.P. Black
He even used the name Black now.
Narcissa folded the letter. Good, she had thought he would have just brushed her off or forgotten about her after everything with the god. She sighed.
She glanced at the owl, who hooted softly, before taking flight again toward the clouds.
"Well," she whispered to herself. "Now I just have to smooth out things between Draco and him. How hard can it be? My Draco has always held himself in a proper manner, so there shouldn't be much hostility."
With that, she turned and walked toward the floo point, thinking about how to help her family.
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