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Disclaimer: Do not attempt to read the leader of your country's mind. You will only get funny looks, also, Harry Potter isn't mine, I do not own it. I also don't own the contents of any plastic baggies in my possession, either.

A/N: Sorry I can't seem to get any other chapters up. PatronusCharm's document manager is being a real cock to me. The story is posted in it's updated status at I'll try to figure this out later.

"This is some funny shit," Harry Potter said to himself, amused.

He looked around an average looking backyard looking for clues about dark wizard activity. Far in the back he found a large pentagram sprawled out on the ground, with what must have been a fire in the middle. This could be the work of dark wizards, he thought, if it wasn't for all the plastic cups littering the ground around it. Off to the side, he spotted a round indentation in the grass, about the size of a beer keg.

His mind started wandering from the investigation at hand. He was a private investigator. It had been 2 years since he defeated Voldemort in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. He still missed being Hogwarts, but had not returned yet. Professor McGonagall took over as the Headmistress and offered Harry the Defense Against Dark Arts teaching position. He turned it down, though. He also turned down plenty of Ministry positions, including being an Auror. He still went through training, but resigned after he graduated from the academy. He didn't want anything to do with the Ministry. Some people even tried nominating him for Minister of Magic. He hated politics, and he hated politicians even more.

He walked back to the house where a good looking woman in her mid-thirties stood. “You say you were gone for a week, and just spotted this today when you got back?”

“Yes, it looks like the work of evil, right?” she said.

“Sure does, but its otherwise harmless. The local kids must have had a party back here while you were gone,” Harry said.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, although I wonder about the kind of group they were, must have been some fagot goth kids or something, pentagrams...” He said, mostly thinking aloud to himself and shaking his head.

Right, case closed anyway. He walked back and cleaned up the site with a few flicks of his wand. He wondered if things were going this slow for the Aurors too. He liked being a private investigator. He didn't have to follow some stupid protocol like an Auror, plus he could go after Muggles if needed to.

He walked back to the house, where the witch stood looking at him seductively.

“Okay then, Miss Stevenson, everything has been took care of. Now, about payment...” Harry said.

“Why don't you come inside then, Mr. Potter.” Miss Stevenson said with a smile.

Harry followed her inside, about to reap another benefit to being a PI.


Over an hour later Harry stepped out the front door with a check in his hand. Turning around he said, “Thanks again for the sex, Mandy. I mean the check, thanks for the check. If you need anything else, just call me.” He said.

He apparated back to his office.


As much as Harry liked his office, there wasn't much to do there anymore. It was in a building located in downtown London, with a spectacular view of the city. He had just finished sharpening all his pencils, and before that he was playing games on the computer before they got boring. Getting prepared to take a nap, he heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said politely.

“Harry, there is a man here to see you about a job for you,” stated a bored looking, young secretary.

“Who?” Harry asked.

“How should I know? He said he was a friend of the phoenixes, whatever the hell that means, and he looks important,” replied the secretary chomping on her gum.

“Oh send him in then, Cindy.”

She rolled her eyes, and left the office.

A tall, muscular looking man in a black suit walked in. Harry stepped around the desk to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Harry Potter...” The man just looked around the office without acknowledging Harry. He raised a hand to his ear.

“All clear, Minister,” was all he said. Harry looked on in confusion as he walked out the door and the Minister of Magic walked in. One of the few exceptions to Harry's hatred of politicians.

“Kingsley, old boy, how's it hanging?” was Harry's respectful greeting to the Minister.

“Great Harry,-”

“How 'bout a drink, Gin? Whiskey?”

“It's 9:30 in the morning!” Kingsley protested.

“So Gin then?” Harry asked confused.

“No, for God's sake, Harry! Fine, just pour me a little Whiskey.” Kingsley said resigned.

Harry grinned and poured the Scotch into two glasses. “What can I help you with Minister? Not trying to recruit me into the ministry's fine ranks of Aurors again, are you?”

“No, no,” Kingsley said quickly, “we have been down that road before, Harry, as I have said to your lovely secretary-”

Harry grinned again, Cindy did have quite a rude attitude, which is why Harry hired her.

“I am here because I have a case for you, an extremely high profile one.”

Harry frowned. “High profile?”

“You heard about the attempt on the Prime Minister's life, did you not?” Kingsley asked.

Harry sighed. “It was a wizard?”

“That's just it, we have no idea who it was. It may have been a muggle or a wizard, we don't know,” Kingsley said.

“So why aren't the muggles investigating this? Or for that matter the Aurors?” Harry asked perplexed.

“The muggles are investigating this. I don't believe any of the Aurors are capable of treating this case as 'delicately' as we need them to, considering it centers on the Prime Minister, the most high profile man in this country.” Kingsley said.

“And you think I am capable?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Lord, I hope so.”

“Great. So why exactly do they need someone with knowledge on the wizarding world to be in on this?” Harry asked.

“The Prime Minister insisted, he was quite shaken up when he spoke to me.”


“Cool?! They weren't exactly gentle with the man. He was extremely upset when he contacted me after they left.” Kingsley said.

“I thought you said it was an assassination attempt? It sounds like they roughed him up and left.” Harry said confused.

“I never said it was. I asked you if you heard about the attempt. The media thinks it was, the authorities know it was not.” Kingsley said.

Harry lit a cigarette. “So what exactly happened then?”

Kingsley coughed. “That is precisely what I need you to find out.”

“How much?” Harry asked.

Kingsley was quiet a moment then replied, “10,000.”





“I won't do it for anything less than 20.” Harry stated calmly, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“20,000?!” Kingsley asked surprised.

“And I sure as shit ain't doing it discreetly like you would prefer for anything less than 30, true it is higher than the going rate, but we are talking high profile muggles here.” Harry said.

Kingsley's eyes widened. “Harry.”

“Relax, we're talking taxpayer money here right? I mean yeah your the best minister we've had in...” Harry paused and it appeared he was doing some high level mathematics in his head. “Oh fuck it, I don't know, ever? My knowledge of history of the wizarding world is pretty bad, but anyway, I know your a good minister, hook me up!.” Harry said.

“No, you hook me up, I'm a friend right? An old member of the Order of the Phoenix.” Harry rolled his eyes. Kingsley continued, “Seriously, wasn't I one of your favorite Aurors along with Tonks and Moody?”

“Right, yeah, because I knew so many Aurors, at the time,” Harry said sarcastically. “Still no, 30, I've done plenty for the Citizens of Magical Great Britain before this.”

“You were offered compensation for that!”

“Offered. I didn't take it, that was the one freebie. We aren't talking dark lords here. Are we?” Harry asked kind of scared

“Of course not!”

“Besides the ministry could never repay me for taking that fucker out. That's something you can never repay. Luckily for everyone I wanted to do it anyway.” Harry said and then took another drink of Whiskey, filled up his cup again and took another, and then another. Kingsley looked at him putting back the shots, he finally drank the rest of his.

“Oh, go on then,” Kingsley said handing his glass to Harry.

Harry poured another for both of them.

“25.” Kingsley said.


“25, or I will get someone else to do it.” Kingsley said with finality in his voice.

Harry smiled and put out his cigarette in the ashtray. He would have call him on that bluff. “Okay then. Get someone else,” Harry said sounding positively delighted he didn't have to do it.

“Okay, I will then.” Kingsley said standing up finishing his drink and setting the empty glass on the desk.

“Great seeing you again, Kingsley.”

“You too, Harry,” Kingsley said. “I'm going now.”

“See you.”

Kingsley left and shut the door behind him.

Harry smiled and started internally counting down. '6-5-4-3-2-.'

Kingsley burst into the office. “30,000.”


“No, I just know your too goddamn curious now to not accept. 25.”

Harry swore under his breath. “Fine. I'll agree to 25,000 galleons.”


They shook hands.

“So when can I talk to the Prime Minister?” Harry asked.

“We have an appointment with him at 2:00.”

“You do realize I'm going to be half fucked up by then?” To illustrate this fact he took back another shot of Whiskey.

“I do now, and for future references I will remember to schedule future appointments with you as early as possible.”

Harry smiled and set down his glass then walked around to the door, opening it for Kingsley.

“Thank You.”

They both walked out of the office joining the Minister's bodyguard, before going down the hall to the lift.

“Meet me in my office at 2, Harry?” Kingsley said, it was more of a statement than a request.

“Of course, Minister.” Harry replied politely.

Kingsley and the bodyguard stepped into the lift and before the doors closed Harry called out, “you do realize I never agreed to be on my best behavior for anything under 30, right?”

Kingsley's eyes widened and he looked as if he wanted to object to that.

“A deal is a deal though, I guess.” Harry said.

Kingsley quickly said “I've changed my mind-” before he was cut off by the doors closing.

Harry smirked and walked back down the hallway whistling.


Harry walked seemingly aimlessly through the middle of downtown London wearing a very expensive suit, making him look like any other respectable young businessman in the city. He walked toward the phone booth that he knew was the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. The public restroom entrance was deemed unnecessary to use after Voldemort's regime in the Ministry was over and the floo and apparation points were back online.

Once he reached the phone booth he walked in and punched in the numbers 62442 into the telephone.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your name and business” the cool voice rang out.

Harry resisted the urge to say that he was Dark Lord Moldypants and told it, “Harry Potter, I have a meeting with the Minister.”

“Thank you,” the cool voice rang out.

A gold looking badge shot out that read:

Harry Potter

Very Important Business

As the phone booth began to sink into the ground, Harry pinned the badge to his suit. Visitor badges were usually silver, but because he was meeting the Minister, it was gold. Either that or they thought Harry was special and needed a different color, he wasn't sure. Harry thought he may have been going a bit overboard wearing the suit to the meeting, not only because it would seem out of place in the Ministry, but also it just wasn't his preferred attire. It wasn't every day you meet the Prime Minister, though. Besides, he knew it would piss off any purebloods that were around. If it brings more attention though, so be it. He got so much already, what difference did it really make?

“Here we go.” Harry said to himself.

The phone booth came to a stop and he got out striding purposely on through the atrium. A new fountain featuring statues of the same size in a circle with all magical beings in Britain had been erected after the fall of Voldemort. It featured wizards, goblins, centaurs, elfs, hags, the whole nine yards. It was designed by Hermione, and she insisted all races be present and shown as equals. Harry thought the gesture toward equality was good and all, but he didn't think the goblins should be on it. He hated the bastards, nearly started a rebellion after stealing that cup from Lestrange's vault. Oh he wished he could have seen the look on Griphook's ugly little face when the sword of Gryffindor disappeared right under his nose.

Continuing on he stopped at the security guard blocking the way to the rest of the ministry. At this point everyone in the atrium recognized him, as well as security. “Go on through,” he said.

Harry remembered the first time he visited the ministry after Voldemort's defeat. He had handed the guy the Elder Wand since he hadn't yet returned it to Dumbledore's tomb and set the scales off the charts and breaking every one of them. Since then, as Harry was a regular visitor of the ministry, they decided not to weigh his wand, even though he used his familiar Holly one since then.

He walked to the lifts and continued to level 1 where he knew the Minister's office to be. He walked to the receptionist's desk outside of the office and told her before she looked up from her work, “I'm here to see the minister.”

“Look, I'm sure whatever you are here for is important, but the minister has an appointment with-” She trailed off as she looked up, “Harry Potter,” she finished weakly.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Potter, I didn't realize...” she said horrified.

“Don't worry about it, Miss?” Harry said questioningly.

“Stuart, Bethany Stuart,” she said blushing. She was cute, with dark hair tied in a ponytail and brown eyes behind oval shaped glasses.

“Beth, its okay, I'm sure you see many people who wish to speak with Kingsley. Please call me Harry, and if you want, I'll give you a chance to make it up to me after you get off work today.”

“Okay then, Harry. Go right on in, the minister is expecting you.” She motioned to the door.

“Right then, can I meet you at the Leaky Cauldron at 6?” he inquired.

Her eyes widened slightly, “Yes,” she nearly whispered.

Harry smiled, happy to have a date for the night. He walked into the office and shut the door.

Kingsley looked up. “Harry, great.” he merely said. He walked to the wall where a portrait hang. It was a toad like little man with fake looking silver hair. Harry thought the ugly looking little man must have been an ancestor of Dolores Umbridge. “Inform the other minister that we will be coming now.”

The man in the portrait left his frame as Harry looked on attentively. The man was back in less than a minute.

“Clear.” was all he said when he returned.

“Let's go then,” he said to Harry walking to the fireplace.

“We're flooing?” Harry said incredulously.

“Like there is another way.” Kingsley said dismissively.

Harry thought they must have protections preventing other magical travel to the building where they were going. “Fine, I just don't want to fall on my ass in front of the Prime Minister,” he said thinking back on his first times flooing.

Kingsley stepped into the fireplace and looked at him strangely. He dropped the powder and then said, “Number 10, Downing Street.”

Harry copied what he did, finding himself going not past other grates as usual, but past a plain brick wall on both sides. The two ministers fireplaces must have been connected on a secure network no one else could access. It spit him out on the other side, and he landed gracefully, to his relief.

Kingsley was already standing there, and on the other side of the desk was a man he had only seen in the news. He noticed he seemed a bit jumpy, probably due to the fact that two wizards just entered his office through the fireplace. Harry reached over the desk to shake his hand, “Harry Potter,” Harry greeted.

“Nice meeting you, I'm Tony Blair,” was all the minister said, looking warily at Harry. Then he glanced at Kingsley quickly and centered on Harry. Harry noticed Kingsley was still wearing his robes which sometimes makes muggles uneasy. His own uncle who usually is terrified of wizards was quite accepting of Kingsley himself while wearing he was wearing a suit on TV standing behind the previous Prime Minister as his bodyguard.

“Please, sit down, Mr Potter, Minister. Care for a drink?” The Prime Minister continued.

“A man after my own heart,” Harry said approvingly. “Please, I will have a Scotch, Mr. Prime Minister.”

Kingsley sat down and said, “Thank you Prime Minister, the same as Harry.”

The Prime Minister poured 3 glasses and handed one each to Harry and Kingsley before throwing back his own at the same time as Harry. Kingsley merely sat there nursing his own. Harry noted the Prime Minister looked somewhat troubled.

“Shacklebolt tells me you are the best, Potter. You don't look like you are even old enough for law enforcement, how much experience do you have at this kind of thing?” the Prime Minister said.

“When I was seventeen, with clues, I figured out how to defeat the most evil, dark wizard this world has seen in the last century,” Harry stated as calmly as if he were talking about the weather.

The Prime Minister's eyebrows rose. “That's quite a résumé.”


A ringing sound, suddenly disturbed the silence of the office. Harry looked sheepish.

“Sorry, I always leave my emergency line on, one moment,” he said pulling out a slim black cellular telephone. The Minister of Magic looked on confused, he obviously knew what cell phones were, but why Harry would have one, he did not know. The Prime Minister, however looked irritated, mumbling something that sounded like, “wasting my time.”

“What's wrong,” Harry answered.

After a lengthy pause, “What? Are you fucking kidding me? We'll talk about this later.” he said.

You could here the voice on the other line say, “More important that this?!”

Harry hung up on the person.

“If its a bad time for you Mr. Potter-” the Prime Minister began rather snootily.

“No, no, it's just a friend of mine who defines the word 'emergency' rather different than you and I,” Harry cut him off. Nobody spoke and the room stayed silent.

“Seems he is rather distressed that his Quidditch team may end up regulated down a league after this year,” Harry continued when it seemed like no one else was going to speak.

The Prime Minister figured Quidditch must be some sort of sport, but neither cared nor had the patience to ask.

“Where were we?” Harry asked.

“I don't know.” the minister said coldly.

Harry's eyes narrowed. He already did not like this man, and he decided to intimidate him a little.

“Listen, Tony. May I call you Tony? I don't give a shit if you think you are one of the most powerful men in the world. If you think your personal safety matters, than you should show a little more respect. I know your type. You hold yourself and your position higher than the actual people you are supposed to serve,” Harry said quietly.

The Prime Minister stood up looking livid, but scared all the same. “As you are a wizard, I don't think you realize-”

Harry caught his eyes and seized on his thoughts with Legilimency. He found what he was looking for and retreated. The Prime Minister knees buckled from the unexpected mental attack. He looked up and for the second time in days, he actually feared for his life. He knew Harry could completely and utterly break him if he wanted to.

Kingsley had stood and taken a few steps back during all this. “Harry, do you really think that was necessary?” He said delicately, not wanting Harry to direct his anger at him.

Harry turned and looked at him, now looking calm and collected, which greatly relieved Kingsley.

“No, but it wasn't necessary for him to get rude either,” Harry said looking at the Prime Minister.

Harry pointed his wand at the Prime Minister and Kingsley voiced his objection. The Prime Minister's eyes widened.

Obliviate.” Harry cast at the man.

“Lets go, Kingsley.” he said grabbing a fistful of floo powder and flooing back to Kingsley's office.

Harry sat down in front of Kingsley's desk and waited for him to pop out a few moments later.

“What have you done, Harry?” he asked of him in horror.

“He has no recollection of what actually happened, only that he was nearly assassinated, no details. He knows that we came into his office trying to investigate before he got rude. He remembers his fear of me. He does not remember having his memories being taken from him.”

Kingsley had a concerned frown on his face for Harry. After Voldemort's defeat, he had heard rumors of Harry often loosing his temper and acting rash, but mentally attacking and then placing a memory charm on the muggles leader?

“I know you think I went too far. I probably did, but you never paid me enough to be discreet, and frankly, I never wanted to be. You are the only politician I have ever liked or gotten along with. It wasn't that the rest were the only assholes, it was that you are the exception, Kingsley. Why should the Prime Minster be any different? This won't stop me from getting these bastards, however, I do take my job seriously,” Harry said.

Kingsley sat down and helped himself to a whole bottle of Odgen's Firewhiskey, now that he was actually in the mood to drink. Harry was telling the truth. Tony Blair was a right stuck up bastard, and he deserved every bit of what he got. He was confident that Harry knew what he was doing. He also realized that Harry just paid him one of the highest compliments he could have gotten from him.

“You know what you are doing Harry, thats why I came to you.”

Harry smiled, and opened the office door.

“I'll see you later, Kingsley.”