THE WAR AID ACT

The W.A.A

A new controversial topic of discussion comes from a section of a new law on the verge of being passed called the W.A.A or War Aid Act. In its depths, it states anyone over the age twelve could be eligible to be enlisted on a draft of available soldiers if the war depletes the ministry of fifty-five percent of its auror and private contract forces.

That is the biggest and most controversial clause being debated against. The massive piece of legislation would also allow for a heavier auror presence at Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and Diagon Alley, a tougher punishment of convicted death eaters or those convicted of conspiring against the ministry, an increased budget for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement & other enforcement-related departments. Portions of the act have already been implemented by having an auror take over Defense against the Dark Arts this term, and increasing auror patrols in Hogsmeade. Many are outraged by the proposed legislation, and there has been a sizable protesting to stop the W.A.A from being drafted, referring to it as a major overreach from the new Minister for Magic Scrimgeour. Others have called it a necessary to ensure that the ministry is capable of fighting You-know-Who. The law is set to be voted upon before the year is out. There has been no comment from the new Minister for Magic Scrimgeour. An undisclosed individual contacted us with their thoughts on the act.

"I think it's time that we had a minister of magic that is willing to do hard things for the safety of our society. Do I agree with murdering children, no, but if it's the only way to fight then so be it."

Another anonymous individual had this to say...

"It's downright absurd. What will any child of the specific age group be able to contribute to the war besides being killed? It's cowardice at best, and I can't believe the anyone in their right mind is even considering it...let alone our government. These are our children, not cannon fodder. If you want to send someone who deserves it, send the pureblood slayer, he is used to killing anyway."

Harry James Potter, nicknamed the Pureblood slayer, has been involved in many controversies before and since the war began due to his involvement in the death of Ginny Weasley, the death of convict Sirius Black, and mainly his involvement in the Massacre of the Fawley and Nott Family, in which he was granted amnesty for by the newly appointed Minister of Magic, a move that was met with mass protest by many due to lack of a trial.

More of W.A.A on page 2. More of Harry Potter on page 4. Reported Dead or missing on page 6. Quidditch on Page 7.

A young raven-haired boy leaned against the sturdy railing of the Hogwarts tower overlooking Hogsmeade as he crumpled the newspaper in his hand. His face was expressionless and his demeanor was as cold as the howling wind that surrounded him. His eyes were set on the horizon that lay far past the Hogsmeade light; mind racing as the door below him swung open.

"I knew I would find you up here sulking and crying. You're pathetic, Potter."

It could only be one person. Draco. His talkative narcissistic best friend. Harry slowly stood up from where he perched to face a grinning Draco. Although, he had not seen Draco all summer things had not changed. He was still the same Malfoy he had come to befriend four years ago and one he believed he could still trust.

"You're right," Harry said coolly.

"Ahh, The man of many words has spoken once again!"

Draco's smile died as his gaze fell to the crumpled newspaper encaged in Harry's hand. "My father hand has been all over that Act. He has bribed just about everyone he can to get it passed," He said as he made his way past Harry to look at the same horizon.

"I suppose he didn't get any better this summer?"

"Of Course not," Draco paused as the wind howled viciously. "He has gone mad trying to get into the Elite. He's beyond desperate at this point. It's pathetic."

Harry knew enough about Draco's father to know that he wouldn't be enough for The Elite; Voldemort's specialized death-eater force. Anyone who had come in contact with a member had never come out alive. If it wasn't for Severus Snape who was an Elite member; no one would even be aware of its existence.

Draco groaned,"Damn it. you got me all moody now too."

Harry smiled briefly as the newspaper in his hands went up in flames, "We better get down to the sorting ceremony...I believe I am a prefect."

"I know I abused my position a lot last year, but I was a hell of a lot better prefect than Weasley,"Draco sighed with a smug expression. Harry had come to know his friend well enough to anticipate what he would ask next. "Who is the girl prefect anyway? If I wasn't given the position, I know Pansy wasn't."

Harry gave a non-committal shrugged as he made his way downstairs, opening the door to the corridor.

"Potter, get your arse back here!"

"You'll find out soon enough. Best not to lose your appetite over it," Harry said as the door closed behind him.

As he made his way to the great hall, he couldn't help but think back on his unlikely friend Draco Malfoy. They had come a long way from fellow Slytherin rivals to friends. It was hard, at times, trusting him because of his family and who they serve, and last year served to really test that, but he trusted Draco and he trusted Blaise Zabini. Two people that had been valuable resources and confidantes to Harry in his tough five years at Hogwarts.

Harry found himself at the entrance of the decorative great hall as returning students sat at their tables talking amongst friends they hadn't seen all summer. He stood only for a second as he watched eyes dart to him and many began to whisper as he searched for the prefect seats at the Slytherin table. Everyone had always had something to say about him starting with his sorting in Slytherin, but the events of the summer had only served to inflame hate he had always received.

Harry finally sat down at the head of the table. Where his female prefect partner sat, Daphne Greengrass. it had annoyed him greatly that Dumbledore had insisted that he be a prefect this year because things were going to get much more dangerous as this war began. War. It felt funny to finally say that after he had been training for war ever since he could remember. He looked at the head table where Dumbledore sat with a pleasant smile on his face as he chatted with Professor McGonagall. His whole life had been spent under the tutelage of the most powerful man of all wizarding world; a man who had taught him just about everything he knew.

Harry took his eyes off of the head table and found himself looking at the Greengrass girl. He didn't know much about her, but Blaise would occasionally say some positive thing about, which meant a lot. He also knew Draco was sort of obsessed with her.

As if on Cue, Draco slid next to Harry. "Sorry, you're going to have to work with this...mute." Draco snickered. "Truth be told, he is only a mute around the pretty girls, and I must say you are one of the pretti-."

"Sod off Malfoy." She interrupted.

Before Draco could continue to get himself into more trouble, the first years began walking out to get sorted. Harry couldn't be bothered to pay attention as he thought about how hard this year would be, to even attempt to focus on academia with all that was going on. He should be out there fighting especially now with the rise of the Death Eaters and the elite lurking about. He felt like a sitting duck, trying to pretend to be a student while people died for only a war he could end. It had been the tension he had faced with Dumbledore over the past two years, and he had been on losing end, every single year.

The feast passed soon enough and Harry and Daphne led the first years to the Slytherin Dungeon. She did all of the talking while Harry kept pace beside her. He could see why Snape picked her, she had a presence that demanded respect which he enjoyed watching as first-years fell in line immediately under her directions. He glanced over at all the first-years, taking notice at their excitement and nervousness as they took in every detail. Some had found friends that they were going to stick with all seven years already and others were timidly walking in the back not quite adjusted to this new world that was thrust upon them.

He remembered first-year quite well, he had grown up in this castle, spending summers wondering around Dumbledore's office, playing with Fawkes, exploring every path he was allowed to explore. However, the moment he had become a student, everything changed. He remembered everyone either wanted to be his best-friend or hated him, except Blaise who has always been a pillar of indifference. Although he had done well, academically, he did it alone up until his accidental battle with Quirrell.

"Stop that," Daphne said sternly, interrupting Harry from his thoughts, at a couple of rambunctious first-years.

Once that was over, Harry left the dungeons for his true place of residence. The Chamber of Secrets. It was a damp and drafty little place but it was secluded and after much renovation and changing, it had become a safe home that only Draco and Blaise knew of.

As Harry entered the chamber, the first noticeable thing was the basilisk skeleton that levitated high above the ground, it's length stretching the full aisle. As he walked down the aisle, between each snake entwined pillar Harry had created complete rooms, three bedrooms, a potions room, a small training room, and as he walked down toward the end, where Salzar Slytherin's statue was an entrance. As Harry entered, he was surrounded by rows of books, the library was small, not comparable to the Hogwarts library or could even match the number of books Dumbledore had in his possession, but it was impressive.

Harry would never admit how much time he snuck in studying spells suited for interior designs nor the many newspaper clippings of Garment Gargoyle's he had clipped, but he was damn proud of the results. As me his way into the middle of the room, there was a spacious circle that contained reading chairs, tables, and desk. It was there where Blaise Zabini was sitting, a book opened up in his lap, as if there was something new.

"The Pureblood Slayer, it sounds much better than the boy-who-lived," Blaise said as he flipped through another page of his book.

"Do you agree with them?"

"Always so defensive, Harry. No, I don't. While I don't know what really happened, I know you did it for the right reasons. Despite how cold and emotionless you portray yourself, I know that is far from the truth." Blaise said as he put his book down. "Besides, whether you did or not, it's fewer deatheaters for you to worry about."

As Harry made his way closer, Blaise stood up from his chair, setting his book down on the table. As he made his way toward Harry. Blaise, of course, towered over Harry as they made eye contact.

"If you're worried about where my loyalties lie, they lie with you even if some your ideologies are confusing," Blaise said. "Rest assured, there is no conflict of interest."

Harry nodded as he turned to leave Blaise. Blaise was not an open book like Draco. Blaise kept his emotions buried and his true thoughts even deeper. He lived inside the mind and could outwit even Harry , Blaise was more often than not usually willing to share his thoughts with Harry and his thoughts were always honest even if a bit condescending.

Harry opened the door to his room as he took in his surroundings. His room was quite small and messy with robes, and some of his bags strewn across the floor. A huge bed sat in the middle of the room along with a huge chest that lay in front of it and a small dresser beside it. A desk was situated in the corner next to an adjacent door; his washroom and bathroom.

Before Harry could walk any further, Draco rushed into the chamber of secrets with a loud entrance, stomping into the library, followed by Harry.

"I'm going to kill Dumbledore, Potter! How dare he give me Pansy last year when he could have given me Greengrass!"

Blaise's expression was disapproving. "It's not like you didn't enjoy her. In fact, I could only guess where a shag depraved Draco has been since the feast ended quite some time ago. "

Draco blushed, "Oh sod off Zabini. Actually, I was with your mother. She wants to make me her eighth husband."

"Your funeral," Blaise said coolly.

Harry watched the exchange, amused at the two. Draco and Blaise were so different that they always brought some interesting conversations and arguments to the table. They always managed to get under each other's skin or under Draco's skin anyway.

"Oh fuck you Zabini. You're just upset because I'm the only one here that knows how to please a woman."

"I would be impressed, but I'd hardly call her a woman. Even muggle-borns are cleaner than that girl."

"Enough Blaise," Harry interrupted. It never went without saying; even though he trusted them, they would occasionally say things that had shown their pureblood upbringing. Not that Harry was innocent; he had spent some significant time with Aberforth.

"Sorry. I forgot."

"Besides, the last thing I want to think about is who Draco is shagging," Harry said.

"I agree," Blaise replied.

Draco folded his arms. "If I recall, this conversation was about Greengrass!"

"Who you want to please," Blaise said as he opened his book.

"Who I want as my wife," Draco said, his face annoyed as Blaise looked back as his book. "You both are clueless, anyway. Neither of you wouldn't know what to do with a girl if you had her."

Blaise quipped, "I think she would be happy to have someone not pining for her."

Harry sighed again before turning around to leave.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked.

"I'm going to sleep, training tomorrow like I have been doing all summer," Harry replied, although he didn't look forward to the early morning training sessions. Finally, he turned and left for his room.

After doing some nightly push-ups, and taking a shower, Harry was finally ready to sleep. Even though he had done no training today, it had felt like a long day. As he jumped into bed, he took a sip of a potion bottle located on his bedside table before quickly closing his eyes, welcoming sleep to follow.

Soon enough, his eyes opened again to the white room. In front of him, the events that had happened recently were being broadcasted on this wall. Snape had trained him to become a skilled occlumens over the course of his training to protect Harry. After a couple of years of practice, he had learned how to come to this place...the control room, are at least that's what he called it. Even though he came here every night, it still always felt like a distant memory when he tried to remember it in the morning. Time passed quickly in this place.

Harry turned around from the wall to see a vault. It's in this vault in which through meditation, and training, he could take away the sting of emotional memories. Harry let the vault open as he walked inside. Inside was set up with cells where inside of each were memories that he needed to separate from emotionally. A skill Dumbledore had taught him to help avoid being overtaken by extreme emotions. As Harry, made it to the fifth floor, there stood one memory at the end of the isle. As he came closer. He could feel it... the lost. The anger. the pain. the hate.

The only memory he forced himself to watch once a week. to never truly forget what drove him. It was something he could never forget as long as he fought in this war...what losing felt like. Harry reluctantly reached out, opening the cell door as the memories attacked him and he could already feel the anger begin to resurface again…

A Basilisk lay dead, a sword lay engraved in its head, and black blood seeped from its head. Harry lay on the floor, covered in a mixture of his blood and the basilisk. Harry took a look at his arm and instantly felt sicker as focused on the two holes that were located on his forearm, surrounded by darkened veins. The poison was spreading.

"Damn it," Harry cried as tried to pick his head up, to no avail.

The more he moved, the more his vision began to blur, and his insides felt like they were melting. As he continued to try and move, a strange tiredness began to wash over him. Was this where he was going to die? All because he couldn't be patient. Harry watched as an older boy began moving closer, even with Harry's rapidly failing vision, the boy looked almost corporal, but there was still something still so ghastly about him.

"You have surprised me. You have so much potential and yet... you are so weak," Tom Riddle hissed as he flipped Harry over

Harry screamed as the movement made Harry feel everything in his body feel as if it was being cut into. Everything felt like it was on fire.

Tom Riddle stood above Harry, looking down on Harry with an amused smugness.

"If you survive, remember this. People will never love you, but you can make them...with power. That's the antidote to weakness, Harry. Power! Fear! Make every wizard bow before you when they hear your name! I can teach you how to make people love you and respect you."

Tom bent down to move Harry's head toward the idle body of Ginny Weasley.

"She told me they already feared you. She told me you were scary and wicked. Too powerful for your own good. So why not prove them right? You make them fear you, and they will respect you. Make them respect you, and they will love you."

Harry said nothing unable to lift himself up as he continued to hear Tom Riddle talk. His vision becoming ever more black around the edges.

"I can teach you all this, Potter. I am not the Voldemort who killed your parents. I can heal you right now and I can teach you real power."

"F-Fuck You," Harry managed to say as Tom Riddle got up, letting Harry's head hit the stone floor, his head facing Ginny Weasley.

"I figured as much, but don't say I never offered."

Harry looked at the dead Ginny Weasley in front of him. They would blame him for this, and he knew it. He had tried, but damn it, nobody would care. They never did. Tom picked the dead girl up and the diary that lay beside her.

"If you survive, remember this," Tom said slowly as he made his way toward Harry, "You can only be weak without fear and power, Harry. The less you care, the better off you'll be. The weak...only lose. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

The last thing Harry saw was a now completely real Tom Riddle slamming his foot against his face.

A/N- Thanks For reading! A couple of things about this fic:

- it's an AU that starts in the sixth year rather years 1-5, and because of this, it will seem like you've jumped into a sequel(at times), but bear with me, as I will slowly reveal information and context as the story continues. Feel free to let me know if there's anything that doesn't make a whole lot of sense for you!

-This is an eventual Harry/ Daphne. I wouldn't call it a slow burn, but it's not going to be instantaneous either.

-The Dumbledore Dynamic isn't going to be on the forefront, in the beginning, but it will become more evident and more central as the fic continues on.

-Please let me know if anything doesn't make sense, things that you don't like(Or do like), and I'll try my best to explain or even make edits, if need be, for the clarification! I want this to be a somewhat enjoyable experience!

With that said, I hope you enjoy reading!