Miscalculation - Chapter 13

Harry spent the next week going to high society parties. He met the majority of the parents of the Pureblood classmates in his previous timeline. Those marked Death Eaters that were still alive were lucky enough to be too far away for the Dark Mark to activate. It also helped that the decapitated head of Voldemort was sealed in a box made out of cold iron with intricately carved anti-magic runes. The body was stored elsewhere in a similar box, just in case. Harry was pretty sure that Voldemort couldn't come back to life again, especially since all of the Horcruxes were now destroyed, but it didn't hurt to be careful. He may have also stole the box and replaced it with a fake then hid the original thirteen feet underneath the main lobby of the nuclear facility in Chernobyl. It wouldn't go critical for another seven or so years, but it was the thought that counted. No one would think to look there even if the reactor didn't melt down this time for whatever reason. He also replaced a few of the limbs of the body from different bodies of random muggles and a chimp. Mostly for the fun of it. It would be an interesting time if some moron in the future decided to try to use the body to restore Voldemort.

Yesterday had been yet another ceremony. This time it was for the public presentation of an Order of Merlin, assigning the attached Wizengamot seat, and awarding the bounty for killing Voldemort. It was then that he finally met Dumbledore.

"Hello, Mister Potter," a much younger Dumbledore said as he approached. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, it's a pleasure to meet you."

In that moment Harry knew that he could kill the old man right here and few people would question him. From there, it would be a couple of short steps to set himself as king. Harry had to resist the urge to slap the man just to get it out of his system. Instead, he offered the wizard a hand in greeting. Dumbledore had the decency to avoid attempting to read his mind. Worry lines were etched into his forehead and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"It is nice to meet you too, Professor," Harry replied. "Are you feeling well? Everyone else is celebrating but you look like someone just kicked your dog."

"Ha, quite," Dumbledore sighed. "I am worried that people are celebrating too soon."

"Why is that?" Harry asked.

"I believe that Voldemort is now truly gone yet," Dumbledore dropped his voice to a whisper.

"Oh?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Due to the horcruxes?"

Dumbledore flinched at the word.

"How do you know that?" Dumbledore hissed at him.

"I destroyed them," Harry replied. "After that, he was able to drain the life from the Death Eaters that were close enough. I'd say that was more impressive than splitting his soul into pieces."

"Indeed," Dumbledore whispered. "There was more than one?"

Harry wordlessly counted them off, then nodded.

"Five of them," he answered. "A Gaunt family ring, Ravenclaw's diadem, Slytherin's locket, a diary, and Hufflepuff's cup."

"My word," Dumbledore took in a deep breath. "The Founders Relics."

"They didn't survive destroying the horcrux," Harry sighed. "It's lucky he didn't use a person. I probably would have had to kill them."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. That moment gave Harry pause. It was meant to be an unspoken jab at the previous timeline. Instead, it made Harry realize he was approaching this all wrong. He could raise himself up with a collection of minions with political and financial power, lock down the borders until he had scoured the country until his vision was actualized, and carve the bones of those who fell before him into a throne.

Just like Voldemort had tried and failed to do.

Harry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was being an idiot. Tom Riddle had fallen into the trap of avarice and lost the truth of things. The former Dark Lord could have easily taken control of the country with perfectly legitimate means.

Some part of Harry really wanted to see how he stacked up against Dumbledore. Similar to the situation with Moody, there was a curiosity of how it would go. In comparison between the two, he hadn't spent nearly as much time with Dumbledore. Harry had worked with Moody for a few years, not to mention the training sessions. The Headmaster though, he had only seen a brief duel in the Ministry and heard stories of past exploits. Harry could always ask for a duel, but there was a difference between that and a real fight.

Harry forced himself back to the present. Killing Dumbledore, gathering followers, and conquering the country was a stupid idea. The people loved him. If they followed the same pattern as they did with Dumbledore, the Ministry would practically throw positions of power at him.

The Headmaster took a moment to gather himself and straightened his posture. Once again, he projected the wise grandfather persona instead of a tired old man.

"I have to ask," Dumbledore spoke after a moment. "Where did you study magic? I don't recall you ever attending Hogwarts, but you don't sound like you were born elsewhere."

"Private tutors," Hary replied easily. "I had Mana Burn when I was younger and had to be isolated."

Mana Burn was a rare condition where a witch or wizard could not control their magic to a dangerous extent. Instead of random bouts of accidental magic, their body temperature would rise to dangerous levels around magical people and items. Left untreated the person would burst into a flame that could not be extinguish until their body was gone. It was a very rare condition and most people who suffered from it had to be banished from the magical world for their own protection. Those that were able to overcome the illness were said to be extremely powerful.

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore whispered. "I'm glad you are here with us."

"Thank you," Harry chuckled. "So am I."

A flash of red caught his eye.

"Excuse me," Harry stepped away before Dumbledore could answer.

Lily Potter spotted him as he neared.

"Lady Potter," Harry bowed once he was close enough.

"Mister Potter," she spoke evenly. "You have done well for yourself."

"Thank you," Harry replied with a smile. "Please, call me Harry."

"Certainly," Lily said. "What are your plans now that you've slain the Dark Lord?"

"If you ask Lord Potter I'm practicing my monologuing and evil laugh," he answered with a sly grin.

Lily sighed.

"Harry," she said with a bit of irritation in her voice. "In case you forgot, I am very pregnant, and my energy levels aren't what they usually are. I have to balance the constant need to waddle to the ladies' room and the desire to throttle whoever designed maternity clothing. It doesn't leave me with much patience for banter."

"Sorry," Harry winced. "I'm going to continue on the plan I told you before."

"You'll become another Dark Lord?" Lily asked, her voice was a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion.

"I was thinking politics, but becoming a Dark Lord would probably be easier on my conscience," Harry replied.

That earned him a quick smile that Lily quickly hid.

"Would we be able to chat sometime?" Harry asked.

He hadn't meant to sound so eager, and he hated the edge of desperation in his tone. Lily motioned to the room around them.

"Somewhere less crowded," Harry clarified. "I was hoping for a place with proper food, less standing, and comfortable clothing."

"Are you still staying in Hogsmeade?" Lily asked.

"For now," Harry nodded. "I've been too busy to go house hunting."

"I bet," Lily replied. "I'll reserve a meeting room sometime this week." She paused. "If this little hellion doesn't pop out to come early."

Harry laughed.

"Mister Potter, Lily," Lord James Potter joined them.

James casually placed himself between the time-traveler who claimed to be his son and his wife. Lily would have to lean a little to the side to use her wand, if the need arose. It was a nice little trick Aurors used to cover their colleagues in an encounter that could get messy.

"Lord Potter," Harry bowed again. "Lady Potter and I were discussing the proper technique for monologues. My position was that rhyming was outdated and uninspired, but she had some rather thought-provoking counter-points."

Lily narrowed her eyes at him. The gentle grin on her face made traveling through time worth it. James stared coldly at Harry. His entire body was tense.

"Relax," Harry shook his head. "Even if my plan was to turn full Dark Lord, which it isn't, I wouldn't start a fight here. We're surrounded by my potential minions, the international press, and no less than four pregnant witches."

His parents didn't find his joke funny.

"To be clear," Harry said casually. "It's mostly the pregnant witches. I'm not crazy enough to poke that dragon."

Lily rolled her eyes at the comment.

"It was nice speaking with you two again," Harry said with genuine truth in his words. "If you'll excuse me. I have a few dozen more photos to take and even more hands to shake." He paused. "See, rhyming just feels wrong."