Before he could so much as blink, Harry found himself thrust backwards into a recliner and his wrist released. He started to speak, but Severus gave him a sharp glare and held out his hand for the potion bottle. "Give it here, young man."

Harry reluctantly handed over the potion, knowing that there went his peaceful night's sleep. He silently cursed Severus' keen hearing and tendency to always seem to know when he was doing something even slightly forbidden. It was as if the man had a Trace spell on him. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just wanted to get a good night's sleep," he told Severus angrily, fighting the urge to start squirming in his seat as if he'd gotten a smacking. He hated how his father could make him feel guilty with a mere look. "You're always telling me that sleep is important."

"Don't try and pretend that you didn't know what you were doing, Harry." Severus said shortly, retreating to a recliner opposite his son and looking very disappointed and angry. "You and I both know better. How long have you been taking it?"

"Uh . . .this would be the fourth night." Harry admitted.

"And how often did you take it before that?"

Harry's brow crinkled. He knew he had taken it at least twice before when the nightmares had been really bad. "I . . .I'm not really sure, but maybe twice."

Severus fought to keep his temper under control. "So. You've been taking Dreanless Sleep for at least four consecutive nights and perhaps two nights before that and you didn't see any reason to tell me about it? Damn it, Harry! How many times do we have to have this conversation? If there is something bothering you, let me know! Don't just shrug it off and try and deal with it on your own. Why is it so hard to admit that you need help?"

"I don't need help. It was just some stupid nightmares about the war . . .and the werewolves hunting us. It's not a big deal, Severus. I'm not some little baby to come running to you for every little thing."

"No big deal? I beg to differ. It was enough of a big deal for you to have to resort to Dreamless Sleep, now wasn't it?"

"I didn't want you to know because I knew how you'd be, Sev."

"How I'd be?"

"Yeah," Harry answered defiantly. "You'd freak out."

"I most certainly am not "freaking out.'" Severus replied through gritted teeth. "I am concerned because you seem to be disregarding everything I've taught you about Dreamless Sleep. Harry, you know it can become addictive if taken too often for too long. How often have I stressed that?"

"A lot. But Sev, it was only the fourth night. You can take Dreamless Sleep for a week without any harmful side effects."

"Yes, but by then you've come to rely upon it and it's difficult to stop drinking it. Do you have any idea how terrible it is to be addicted to that particular potion? The withdrawal effects of it alone are worse than being addicted to heroin or crack. It takes a year or more to overcome the withdrwal symptoms and even years later, they can reoccur. Trust me, you don't want to become dependent upon it. No more of this until I say so." He waved a hand and the vial disappeared, sent back to his lab.

"Hey! You can't just take that away!" Harry objected. "I need that!"

"That's the last thing you need, son." Severus declared firmly. "Talk to me. Tell me about these dreams."

"They're just dreams." Harry stood up, his eyes flashing. "If you're not going to help me, just leave me alone." He started to leave.

"Sit down." Severus ordered, but with an edge in his tone.

Harry clenched his jaw. "I don't have a problem I want to discuss with you, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll try and get some sleep, if I can."

"I said, sit down, Harry James Potter-Snape!" Severus was on his feet as well, looming over the smaller wizard like some great bird of prey.

Harry froze. That tone was not one the wise child provoked. Slowly, he turned and sank down in the chair again. He glared at Severus sullenly. "I'm not an addict, Severus! Stop treating me like I am."

"You may not be yet, but the way you were guzzling down Dreamless Sleep you soon would be!" Severus pointed out chillingly. "Sneaking behind my back and stealing the potion from my stores is what I would describe as a desperate act. The act of someone on the road to becoming addicted." He took a deep breath. "That's how it starts."

"How the hell would you know?" Harry shouted, trembling.

"Because I've been there before!" Severus growled. "Like you, I thought I could handle it. Like you, I thought I could stop whenever I wanted, that I was stronger than the potion. But I was only fooling myself. Once it gets in your blood, you crave it more than anything, more than your life, more than your magic. I saw terrible things in my time as a spy. Things that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Once I thought it would be easy to just take Dreamless Sleep and forget it all. But that was an illusion. Dreamless Sleep masks the pain, it doesn't alleviate it. And once you stop taking it, you still have to deal with the pain, only it's ten times worse. I don't want to see you walk the same road I have. You need to confront your fear, not push it away. Now, if you don't want to talk to me, then I could make an appointment with Healer Sandrilas. He treated your godfather when Sirius was having flashbacks of his time in Azkaban, he's highly recommended."

Harry went pale. "No! I don't need a bloody therapist!"

Severus' eyes flashed. "Oh, yes, you do. And you also need to learn some manners. Mind that tone when you talk to me."

Harry flinched. "Sorry. But you're not listening to me. I'm not crazy or depressed. I don't need a Mind Healer."

"Harry, you don't see a Mind Healer only for depression, which, by the way, I think you are suffering. You're not sleeping, you have night terrors, you have phobias of the dark and enclosed spaces, that would make the strongest person depressed. Son, you just fought a war. There's no shame in admitting that you have post traumatic stress disorder."

"I don't. I just have trouble sleeping." Harry insisted stubbornly.

Severus longed to take the infuriating teen and shake him hard. Or cuff him upside the head. "You are stubbornner than a goblin with a creditor on the loose, young man. Denying the problem won't make it go away."

"I'm not denying it. Because I don't have a problem, Severus."

"No, you just have trouble sleeping," Severus shot back sarcastically. "If it'll make you feel better, I have a bit of post traumatic stress myself." He hoped that by admitting that he too suffered from the same disorder, it might make Harry open up.

"Really? Then maybe you ought to go see Healer Sandrilas." Harry said insolently.

"Watch yourself, boy! I won't be spoken to like that."

"Fine. I'll shut up and go to bed." Harry said and got up again.

"This conversation isn't over. Not by a long shot," Severus called after the boy's retreating back. He figured all he was doing was butting heads with the boy right then, and maybe it would be better if they discussed this again tomorrow, when their tempers were cooler and Harry was less argumentative.

He waited until he heard Harry retreat to his room before casting a ward upon his lab that would lock the door to any but himself and then he too sought his own bed.

Harry entered his room and stopped just before he slammed the door. He was too old to be slamming doors, no matter how much he longed to. He was angry at himself for getting caught and at Severus for trying to play the concerned parent when he had nothing to be concerned over. He threw himself on his bed and scowled at the wall.

Hedwig glided into the room, returning from her trip to Sylvanor. She could sense the tension in the room immediately. Trouble, fledgling?

"No. Just a stupid disagreement with Severus."

Hedwig peered at him worriedly. Why were you quarreling with your father?

"Because he thinks he knows more than he really does."

About what?

"My taking Dreamless Sleep for a few days. I wasn't even taking it for that long and he goes crazy and accuses me of getting addicted to it and says I need to see a Mind Healer. That I'm depressed and some other idiotic notion."

Hedwig began to preen her wings. Seems to me like he might be right. You haven't been yourself lately, Harry. Your nightmares are getting worse. You cry out and move in your sleep every night unless you dose yourself. That is not good.

"Not you too!" Harry exploded. "The two of you belong in a nuthouse!" He buried his face in the pillow and pounded it.

Harry, I am merely stating that you might consider talking to another adult, since the potion is dangerous to your health.

"Shut up, Hedwig. I already had a lecture from Mr. Snape out there, I don't need one from my owl."

Humph! You need a lecture and a good nip on the ear, you impudent fledgling! Insulted, Hedwig turned her back to him upon her perch.

Harry turned to stare at the owl and shook his head. Ever since the confrontation with Fudge, everything he said came out wrong. He flopped over on his back and tried to fall asleep. He felt angry and ashamed at how he had spoken to his father and his familiar, but not enough to apologize. He was sleepy, but he was afraid of having yet another Technicolor nightmare and so he subconsciously kept himself awake for hours until exhaustion overwhelmed him and he slept at last.

He woke up to the smell of bacon frying, groaned, and turned over. He wondered what his father would do if he didn't come down for breakfast. He wasn't hungry. . . much. Though the bacon had the most tantalizing odor. He found his mouth watering in spite of himself. His stomach rumbled and he rose with a groan and headed into the bathroom for a shower.

When he returned to his room, he recalled that Hedwig had returned from Sylvanor last night, and he'd been in such a rotten mood that he hadn't even thought to ask her about the wolfen or if she had a letter for him. A wave of guilt slammed him. He felt about as low as a cockroach. Sometimes I really could just kick myself.

He dressed quickly and made an attempt to comb his hair then he walked over to Hedwig and whispered, "Hey. Hedwig, are you awake?"

I am now. What is it? The snowy owl asked crossly.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the way I snapped at you last night. I was an ungrateful snot and I can't blame you if you want to chomp off my ear."

She opened one golden eye and hooted softly. You were rude and it was uncalled for. However, I can forgive you. Was there something you needed?

"I was just wondering if you had a letter for me from . . .Meadowsweet or Darkmoon or any of the wolfen?"

The snowy owl looked amused. Indeed. You don't deserve to get it, but since you've apologized . . .it's on your desk. Good night! Then she shut her eyes and fell back to sleep.

"Thanks, Hedwig." He ruffled her breast feathers and she nipped him gently before snoozing once more.

Harry eagerly tore open the letter, it was addressed to him.

Dear Harry:

Seems like you really stuck your head into the lion's mouth for us this time. You and Severus both. I never expected you to do more than put a proposal to your Minister, but you proved yourselves true pack members when you put an ultimatum to him and stuck by us. We are all grateful to you, my brothers. Hedwig told us how you defended us to your leader and got a reporter of questionable reputation to help you fight your Minister and make him set us free. Hedwig said that your people all fought for us and would have plucked your Minister like a chicken if they had been able. She says he probably won't be your Alpha any longer. A good thing for us, I'd say.

Regarding your decree that one of us attend Hogwarts to show that wolfen can be educated people and not ravening monsters or drinkers of blood and baby rapers, I called a meeting of the whole pack and we all discussed it. Many of us are wary of accepting anything from wizards, with good reason. Vlad went and tested the border before the meeting, and has found that your Minister did indeed keep his word and the wards are down. For the first time in years, we are now free to leave the forest and travel where we will.

Ironically, however, most of my pack does not wish to leave. The area surrounding the forest is controlled by Dracula and his vamps—enemy territory. Not somewhere we'd choose to live. Sylvanor will always be our home. However, we did discuss whether or not any of us would like to attend Hogwarts in the fall.

I never finished school properly once Mom died, and would someday like to get a degree, my mother didn't raise me to be some wild man of the woods. But I can't abandon my pack at this time. We're in a state of flux and change and they need me to guide them. A good leader doesn't abandon his men.

But there is one here who has always longed to get a better education. Sasha practically turned cartwheels when she heard that one of us could actually attend school. You know how much she's always wanted to get a real Healing degree. So she has accepted the Minister's offer and will be coming to Hogwarts next term. I just hope all goes well. Perhaps she might meet with your Headmaster and discuss curriculum and other things before the beginning of the term?

As of now, Sasha's the only one to agree to attend Hogwarts. The rest of them are still unsure and distrustful. If anything changes, I'll let you know.

Now it's time to coax my reluctant packmates out of the forest and into unexplored territory.

Tell Master Severus I said hi and hope he is well. Congratulations on defeating the dark wizard, he belongs in hell.

Your friend and Alpha,

Darkmoon (Erik)

PS: Remember, school is for learning, not making out with your girlfriend! Have fun!

Harry grinned from ear to ear and gave a soft yell of delight. At last, Sasha and he could be together. He felt as if he had waited for this moment forever.

He practically floated down the stairs.

Severus looked up from his breakfast, his expression closed and hard. "Sleep well?"

"Not too bad." Harry responded. He helped himself to bacon, toast, fruit and hardboiled eggs from the center of the table. "I got a letter from Darkmoon this morning. The wards really did fall and Darkmoon says that they've chosen Sasha to attend Hogwarts next term."

"Good. She will benefit greatly from her time there." Severus said, sounding pleased.

"Yes, and she wants to meet with you . . .err . . .the Headmaster to talk about curriculum and such."

"I figured as much. Since she is not an ordinary wizarding student, I shall have to give her a different curriculum and perhaps apprentice her to Madam Pomfrey as a personal assistant, since that is where her talent lies. But I can figure out that later." He set down his fork and looked at his son pointedly. "After I deal with you."

"Sir, about last night," Harry began. "I was out of line—"

"Yes, you were, but that's not what I want to discuss with you today. Harry, you need to get help before you get worse instead of better. As I said last night, denying the problem won't make it go away. If you'd prefer to talk with me, I am always available to you—"

"Sev, please! I don't need to talk about my damn nightmares! Why can't you just leave it be?"

"Because I'm responsible for your health, child."

"I'm fine."

Severus clenched his jaw. He had never longed to smack someone so badly as he did right then. "You are your own worst enemy, fledgling." And you remind me so much of myself it's scary. "Very well. I shall allow you two days and if your nightmares are not totally vanquished by then, you will agree to get help from someone. If necessary I will drag you kicking and screaming over my shoulder into Healer Sandrilas' office."

"You wouldn't!" gasped Harry.

Severus met his eyes unflinchingly. "Try me, Mr. Potter-Snape. It would be far more embarrassing for you than me."

Harry flushed. He could just imagine it, and also imagine the rumors that would come of it. A small voice in the back of his mind warned, Don't do it, Harry. He always does what he says and unless you want to be embarrassed for the rest of your life, don't test him. He forced himself to meet Snape's eyes. "Okay. But I won't be needing any shrink."

Severus gave him a skeptical look. "We'll see. And Harry . . don't even try to lie about the nightmares. Because I'll know."

Harry swallowed, for the warning look his father was giving him could have stripped the fur off of a bugbear. "Yes, sir."

He wondered if there was a similar potion to Dreamless Sleep without the addictive side effects. He supposed he ought to write Ron and ask him. He would know, since Percy was a studyhound like Hermione. And Harry also wanted another teenager to talk to about how unreasonable Severus was being and to find out how the Weasleys had taken the smear campaign against Fudge. Harry wished Rita hadn't involved Percy and Molly in her scheme, but knew that Percy's meteoric rise to power had caused several tongues to wag and rumors to be spawned. And Percy was a git to abandon his family for the Ministry, so Harry didn't really feel sorry about his reputation, though he did feel sorry for poor Molly and Arthur.

He looked up at his father and asked contritely, "Do you have anything special you'd like me to do today?"

"Not right now." Severus said quickly. He had been going to ask Harry's assistance to brew a potion, but changed his mind since he learned about Harry's snitching Dreamless Sleep. Best to not put temptation in front of him.

"Okay. I was just going to write a letter to Ron. See what he thinks about the whole Fudge affair."

"I am sure he finds the whole thing very amusing."

"You're probably right. After that, can I go flying? Just for a bit? I'll be careful."

"You may, after you've worked on your last bit of summer homework. I'll be up to check on it before supper."

"All right, Sev."

After clearing the breakfast dishes, Harry went up to the library and scribbled a letter to Ron.

* * * * * *

Pigwidegeon returned with a letter for Harry just as he was completing the last of his History of Magic homework. He detested that class, but knew better than to fight Severus over homework. It was a battle he would never win and he didn't fancy being grounded for weeks.

"Pig!" he exclaimed as the little owl flew in the window, a letter nearly as big as he was in his talons.

He shoved aside the half-finished essay in relief and took the letter from the little owl. "Thanks, Pig. Have an owl treat."

Yum! You are very kind! Wind to thy wings, Freedom! Pigwidegeon took the treat daintily and then he flew back to the Burrow.

Harry opened the letter from one of his best friends and read silently.

Harry,

I can't believe all the things that have happened to you since we left seems like a lifetime has passed in only two months. At first I was kind of miffed that you didn't tell me that you and Snape were going off on this huge quest to destroy Voldemort. I mean, aren't I your best mate? But then Charlie told me that you probably couldn't risk telling anybody where you were going and risk some enemy finding out and trying to rip the information from my mind or some other sick thing like that. I trust Charlie and when I thought about it, it was better I didn't know what you were up to, I would have probably tried to find you or something and ended up in a cauldronful of trouble.

Speaking of trouble, looks like Fudge is mired in it. And about time too! The miserable git deserves whatever he gets. I never liked him since the time he accused you of making up Voldemort's return so you could get your name in the papers. And how he kept passing remarks about how you were going round the bend. I wanted to hex him into the next century.

I still do, on account of what he said about my brother Percy. Now Percy and I don't really get on, he's a stuck up prat and thinks who the hell he is, but when all's said and done, he's still family. And nobody badmouths my brother but me. Or Fred and George.

When my mum first read Rita's article she was . . .uh . . .shocked speechless. But that didn't last long. Matter of fact, it lasted about thirty seconds and then she was waving about her spoon and yelling, "Arthur, I'm going to kill that scurvy bastard! How dare he?" Before my dad could say anything, she went off on my brother, saying this is what comes of him trying to get ahead of himself, mingling with the high mucky-mucks and so on. She also had a few things to say about Rita, namely that she was a rumor-mongering bitch.

Dad and the rest of us just sat there and let her blow off some steam, if we had said anything, we would have probably gotten the business end of her wand. Or her spoon, Merlin knows. Personally, I think Percy deserves to feel her spoon, considering he's the one who insisted on working for the Minister and bragging on and on about it.

Finally, she calmed down enough for Dad to say, "Now, Molly, we all know that Fudge lies, and so does Rita Skeeter. Surely no one would believe such a thing. We have the birth certificate to prove it."

"I know, but . . .you don't know how stupid people can be. Myrna Lewis was made out to be a harpy, and that's why Fudge never let her out of the house. I always felt bad for her, being in the public eye like that. I'm glad she's divorcing that . . . that murderer!"

Took me awhile but then I realized she was talking about Fudge's wife, the one nobody ever sees, not even in photos.

Then Ginny says, "It's all Percy's fault, he just had to cozy up to the Minister."

And Mum just looks at her and says, "Ginerva, you have no call to blame your brother, he was ambitious and stupid, but he couldn't know how corrupt and evil the Minister was. He fooled us all. Now the only thing left to do is to squash these rumors and make the Minister eat dung and free those poor children! Imagine, him going about with a hit squad and kidnapping innocent kids and leaving them to die in the wilderness! Dispicable! He ought to have his stones cursed off!"

And we all remain with our mouths open.

Ginny says, "Mum!" Like she's so shocked, but I know better. I've heard her threaten a guy with that curse before.

Gred and Forge cheer and say, "You tell 'em, Mum! Cause nobody messes with our mother!"

Then we get a real shock, because Percy walks in the door. And for once he's not all full of himself. Instead he looks tired and kind of ashamed. He takes off his hat and coat and says, real quiet like, "Is there any breakfast left for me?"

Mum and Dad just look at him. Then Mum goes and throws her arms around him and hugs him. "Oh, Percival! Of course there's always a place for you."

He hugs her back and says thanks. Then he goes to sit down andshe smacks him one on the arm with her spoon. "Ow! Mum!"

"And that's for making me worry and not writing me for so long, Mr. Minister's pet!"

"Sorry. I thought maybe you wouldn't want to know me after all the stupid things I did."

"We didn't," say Fred and George.

"Ignore them," says Mum. "You'll always be a part of this family, Percy. Weasleys stick together. And if you dare ask if you're my son, I'll beat you senseless."

He looks all insulted. "I'd never ask that, Mum. You have far too much self-respect to ever break your vows and shag that turd in wizard's clothing. Once I saw that, and realized that the Minister wasn't going to try and defend me, I quit."

"I'm proud of you, son," my dad says.

My brothers and I make gagging noises, and Ginny, the sap, bursts into tears. She's such a . . .what's the expression Hermione uses . . .oh, a drama queen.

Then I read the rest of the article out loud and we all gag just thinking about Fudge and Umbridge. Totally disgusting!

Fred and George said they're going to sell Fudge-bombs, that are extra strong dungbombs that look like crap for people to buy and protest what he did with the wolfen, in their joke shop, among other things. Their shop is really booming and if I finish school and don't know what I want to do by then, I'll probably work for them. But not for free!

Glad to hear that all is going okay with you and I know what you mean when you say parents over-react sometimes. When I was little, everytime I came down with a cold, Mum dosed me with medicine, and made me stay inside. Get used to it. Parents are all the same and they never change. Mum will probably be sending me Pepperup potion when I'm forty-five.

Can't wait for the election tomorrow. Fudge is supposed to give a speech or something. Bet he'll get slammed with a few nasty Fudge-bombs!

There's a potion called Angel Dream that makes you have good dreams all night, that has no side-effects I know of. Percy told me about it. Said you can find the formula in Advanced Potions.

Take care, mate!

Ron

Harry smiled as he read the letter, glad that the rumors hadn't damaged the Weasley family too much. He was sure they'd weather this scandal just fine, especially now that Percy had come home. He had always thought the middle Weasley an idiot for throwing away his family for a career.

Then he bit his lip. Was he doing the same thing over pride, by refusing Severus' offer of help with his nightmares? But he really didn't have a problem, he'd had nightmares before, that didn't mean he needed therapy. He wasn't like Severus, who had seen awful things as a spy. He didn't think any less of the man for using potions to suppress the memories. But he wasn't following in Snape's footsteps.

Besides, Severus had done enough for him, he didn't need to pay for private therapy lessons as well.

Harry folded the letter and went flying, blurring into Freedom and waiting until he saw no sign of people before soaring out the window and up into the sky. It was so exhilarating to ride the wind currents and soar upon an updraft.

* * * * * *

The following day was the election for the new Minister of Magic. The three candidates were Fudge, Scrimgeour, and Shacklebolt. Harry was hoping that Kingsley would win. He respected and liked the Auror Captain and thought he would make a decent Minister because he cared for the people's needs as well as his own and he was not one to take bribes or be unduly prejudiced against certain groups, like the wolfen or the werewolves.

Harry couldn't vote in the election, since he wasn't of age, but Severus could and did, early that morning he posted his ballot with the Ministry and then he went home to listen to the poll results upon the wizarding radio, tuning into WWN News Today.

" . . .here we are, live at the polls in London, in the Ministry of Magic. Very shortly now, each candidate will give a short speech about their goals and values and what they intend to bring to the office if elected. It's a small reminder of what they stand for and hopefully you will all listen and then cast your votes accordingly. . ."

Severus listened with half an ear to some announcement about Quidditch and brooms, and then came Scrimegeour with his proposal and next was Kingsley, his deep baritone resonating even through the wireless.

Harry stumbled into the kitchen, smothering a yawn. "Is it my turn to make breakfast today, Sev?"

"Shush! I'm trying to listen," rebuked the other wizard.

His son flopped into a chair, making it squeak across the linoleum, and earning himself a scowl from his parent.

"So far it's still up in the air as far as the poll results are concerned. We don't know who's ahead yet until the first tallies come in, which should be in about fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, here is Minister Cornelius Fudge, with the following statement . . ." There came a loud cough and then the sound of people screaming. "I say . . .there seems to be a riot or a protest going on down here. People are yelling "Go home, Fudge-gnome! And blow it out your fat arse—oops, sorry! Forgot we were live, hope no kiddies were listening. Sorry, mums and dads! Merlin's shorts, they've started throwing dungbombs and rotten eggs and vegetables at the Minister! The Minister has cast a Shield charm, but even so, he's still covered with garbage, most of it thrown by some redhaired witch and several of what seems to be her family members . . .goodness, does she have it in for him . . .What's that you say, Ted? Ah, that explains it. Ted says that the woman is Molly Weasley, who was rumored to have an affair with the Minister a long time ago . . .I'd say she looks mad enough to kill . . ."

"Way to go, Mrs. Weasley!" Harry whooped, then he collapsed with laughter, imagining it all.

" . . .Looks like Fudge won't be able to give his speech . . .not that anyone cares, really. Ever since that press release of that Ministry cover-up, Fudge's political and social reputation has taken a nosedive and won't ever recover. . . Great Merlin's beard! If you can hear that angry buzzing noise in your wireless, it's the sound of a crowd of angry people chanting, "Down with Fudge! Resign, why don't ya?" Oh my heavens! They've swarmed the podium, Fudge's body guards tried to stop them, but they were caught off guard and didn't suspect anything like this to happen!

They've gone mad . . .ripping out his hair and buttons, now they're carrying him on their shoulders and . . .dumping him into a fresh pile of manure . . .!"

The announcer began to guffaw and after a few minutes, Harry and Severus joined him.

"I wonder who will win?" Harry asked. "Do you have a preference, Sev?"

"I know who I would NOT want as my Minister and that is Fudge. As for the other two, I prefer Shacklebolt, he is dependable ahdn honest, and he knows how to meet danger head on." Answered Severus.

"I would have voted for him too," Harry said. "I hope Fudge resigns."

"Based on that little demonstration of the peoples' love, I'd say Fudge has lost everyone's respect."

Harry snickered. "I would have loved to done a flyby over his head, but certain unmentionable people wouldn't let me."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Would you at least try and act your age?"

"I am." Harry replied cheekily.

"The results won't be in until tonight when the polls close," Severus told him. "So no use standing there listening. Come, let's go for a walk."

When they returned from that, Harry took a nap and when he woke, the first thing he did was ask Severus if the new Minister had been elected.

"Not yet. Come eat supper."

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat anyway."

Harry huffed, but went and ate anyhow. He knew he'd receive another lecture about nutrition and proper eating habits equaling good memory retention and so forth.

He was midway through his turkey, gravy, and mashed potatoes when he heard a voice yell out of the speaker, " . . .and now, the moment you've all been waiting for. . . .the last votes are in and the new Minister of Magic is . . . .Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt! Three cheers for Shacklebolt!"

"Yeah!" Harry shrieked, punching the air. "Sev, let's have a party to celebrate!"

His father gave him a small smile. "A party? How about we go flying?"

Harry never had any objections to flying.