Despite their tiredness when going to bed, they woke up as early as usual. The weather didn't cooperate, though. It was cold and windy with some bouts of snow and sleet. It almost made the Potters return to bed, but Hermione still wanted to find out how good the new Potion teacher was. Besides, the corridors were protected well enough from the weather.
–..–
"He seems to be quite good," Hermione said after the Potions lesson.
"At least compared to Snape. He couldn't be much worse than him, you know," Harry mock agreed.
"Oh, you!" she pouted.
"I know. He is quite good. A bit too star-eyed to my taste, but he knows his stuff and passes knowledge well, something Snape never even tried."
She shrugged. "At least something good came out of Snape's demise."
"We still don't know who the new DADA teacher will be," Harry noted.
"When I was at the girls' loo, I heard someone say that an Auror was coming to fill in. At least it's better than having the Dark Lord teach us."
"I actually read somewhere that he used to be a very good student. He may have been able to teach well, only he would have probably taught the dark arts instead of defence."
Hermione shrugged. "That's no longer relevant anyway."
–..–
Harry felt no hurry to give a press conference and Sharpclaw was still receiving a letter or two per day even after the new term started. It only stopped about a week later. Sharpclaw waited a few more days before sending a letter to Harry.
"Dear Lord Potter,
As agreed, I collected all the requests for the press conference until no new ones arrived for a few days. We next need to set a place and a time for the promised conference.
As a Lord, you may set it at the Ministry's atrium, as many do, but I wouldn't suggest it. The security there is non-existent and too many people may come and disturb you, or worse.
You may also choose one of the pubs. While they have no political affiliation, the security risk in such places is even higher. Another possibility would have been one of the Potter residences, but since you have not yet visited any, I can't honestly recommend using one for this purpose.
Then, Gringotts can also let you use one of its larger conference rooms for this purpose. It costs a small fee, as expected, but you'll get as high security as we can supply and we can even give you a portkey to take you from inside Hogwarts to the bank and back.
I'd also recommend you set it during a weekend, to not interfere with your studies, preferably before noon. It will give you a good excuse not to make the conference too long, as growing children need their lunch on time.
Unfortunately, I can't guarantee that the information would not leak to Dumbledore. With so many journalists involved, some may mention it to the wrong ears. I suggest you keep your distance from him and not accept any offer to 'help' you by using his Floo connection or other ways. I suggest extreme caution when dealing with him.
Awaiting your reply,
Sharpclaw."
The young couple consulted with each other. Neither could fault Sharpclaw's advice. They could only hope that Dumbledore would not intervene too much. He was still a very powerful wizard and they didn't want a brutal confrontation with him. They replied the same day.
"Dear Sharpclaw,
Your advice is sound and we accept all parts of it. I'd like to set the press conference for next Saturday at ten. This will leave us enough time for breakfast and almost two hours for the press to interrogate us, although we'd like it much shorter.
Please let us know when everything is set and send an appropriate portkey. We shall pay as needed, of course.
Regards,
Lord and Lady Potter."
–..–
As expected, Dumbledore was informed within two days. He invited Harry for a conversation in his office. Both Potters arrived, causing a grimace. They also didn't sit very close, as a safety measure, so that any casting could not catch them both, allowing one of them, at least, to retaliate.
"I only expected to speak to you, Lord Potter," Albus said with as much admonishment in his tone as he dared. He was just too aware of their social positions and dared not confront them directly. He had already found they knew much more than expected and couldn't be treated as ignorant children.
Harry shrugged. "We're a couple, you know. Besides, I would have told her everything in as much detail as I could, had I come alone. It's easier this way."
Dumbledore couldn't disagree, although he would have liked it differently. He just sighed and turned to the main subject. "I heard that you intend to give a press conference. May I know why?"
Harry shrugged again. "It's no secret. After the trial, many journalists tried to speak to us and ask questions. We weren't ready for that, so I just promised to set a press conference where they could ask all they wanted. We tried to learn some more about how to handle such an event and I hope we are ready."
"Wouldn't it be better to direct them to some adult you trust? I would have happily represented you if asked."
Harry smiled. The old man was stepping directly into his trap. "That's a very generous offer, Headmaster, but we can't accept it, now that it's all set. You may come to observe, of course, if you like. I'm sure you may have some answers to questions that I can't answer, like: Why I was sent to live with my hateful relatives? Why my parents' will was not executed? Why did nobody tell me about my position? Can you answer these questions, Headmaster? I'm sure they'll come up during the press conference, along with many more."
The old man couldn't hold back a grimace. These were questions he surely didn't want to answer. He had to think quickly of some answers that would sound good enough but would not reveal anything. Not finding a better way, he resorted to his standard, "Alas, you are still too young to understand such things or to be exposed to all that had happened and led to those actions."
Judging by their expressions, neither Potter accepted his answer. Well, he wouldn't have acted differently in their position. How much he would have liked to grab his wand and use some compulsion to make them conform to his plans, but they were sitting too wide apart and both were holding their wands. Well, neither had a holster, as far as he knew.
Harry shook his head in dismay. "Even such a young child as I am can plainly see that you're lying. Whatever your reasons were, they were unclean, at least." He then smiled innocently. "I will still feel honoured if you come to our press conference, of course." He would make sure to ask the goblins to disarm the old man from any weapon or portkey before he could even reach the conference room. He wondered if the goblins had how to force someone to say only the truth. If it could be used on Dumbledore it could prove very helpful. Not for him, surely.
Dumbledore thought this was his chance. "If you both go to the conference as do I, we can all travel from the Floo in my office."
Hermione spoke this time. "Actually, the Floo in our apartment, assuming you didn't block it without telling us, can prove more suitable for us. Besides, we only need to arrive on time. Others need to come early to get a good seat. I'm sure you wouldn't like to be tucked in a corner, unable to see or hear anything, just because you came late."
Dumbledore grimaced again. He had contemplated closing their Floo to force them to come through his office. Now it seemed he should try a different method.
Not knowing how to change their minds, he dismissed them a moment later. He still hoped for a chance to cast, but Harry moved out quickly while Hermione watched attentively. Harry then stopped at the door and turned around. "Aren't you coming, dear?" he asked innocently.
Hermione stood up and walked a bit stiffly, as if she'd been sitting for too long, but still walking in a way to leave him exposed to Harry's attentive glance. He just couldn't do anything stealthily!
As much as Albus tried to catch Harry alone, or even Hermione, although she wasn't quite important for his plans, it was practically impossible. The couple seemed to stick with each other at all times. He wondered if they also used the loo together and then grimaced at the inappropriate thought.
–..–
The day set for the conference arrived too soon, for the Potters, and too slow, for Dumbledore. That Saturday, Albus Floo'ed to Gringotts immediately after eating breakfast. He wanted to get a close enough seat to try to influence the brat and stop him from reaching areas Albus didn't want him to reach.
The goblins were ready for him. "No wands or other magical foci are allowed in the conference room," one of the guards told him. "And no portkeys, either," another added.
He had to give them his wand and then the original wand he'd gotten at age eleven, followed by the ring that also contained a miniaturised wand, for emergencies. They then took all his portkeys, including the button on his robe, the one on his shirt, and also the one disguised as a tooth. Albus had never suspected that they had such good detection systems.
While getting stripped of all his magical aids, some other people came in, passed security quite quickly, and went in. When he was finally allowed in, the first row of seats and most of the second were already occupied. Albus sighed. Without his magical aids, there was very little he could still do anyhow. He just relaxed as much as that chair allowed and waited, like everybody else.
–..–
The Potters didn't trust the Floo in their apartment. Not knowing much about the system, they couldn't exclude the possibility that Dumbledore would somehow send them somewhere else. Besides, they already had their portkey.
Half a minute before ten, they grabbed the portkey and activated it. The two guards welcomed them politely and escorted them to the conference room, where everybody was already assembled. They were not asked to leave their wands behind and they had them stowed in their robes' pockets.
As expected, Sharpclaw waited for them on a raised dais and motioned them to sit at his side. He waited a moment for everybody to get quiet, and then stood up to speak.
"I called this press conference on behalf of Lord and Lady Potter to satisfy the requests of the press for some more information about them. I'm also glad to welcome Professor Dumbledore, whom I'm sure you'd like to ask some questions too, and he may be able to answer about the time our young Lord can't know or remember. Now, since you sent many repeating questions, it looks like the best way to handle them would be to let Lord Potter tell you his story, the way he knows it, uninterrupted. After he finishes telling, you may ask for clarifications, and I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would also be glad to help."
Judging by the old man's grimace, he was certainly not glad to find himself under the limelight, but he nodded his head agreeably and tried to smile, not quite successfully. Harry could only chuckle internally. He hoped that the journalists would grill Dumbledore mercilessly and get some answers out of him, but he didn't believe they would get anything more meaningful than the bunch of nothingness the old man usually gave.
As Sharpclaw sat back, Harry stood up to speak, noticing that everybody seemed to await his words with interest. He could only hope he would succeed in making the impression he wanted.
"I don't remember anything of my early childhood. The oldest memories I can recall are from the time I was about three years old. I was assigned the cupboard under the stairs as my room, probably since the day I arrived there, although it was barely large enough to hold the baby mattress my relatives were so kind to give me and the baby blanket in which I was left at their doorstep the night after that fateful Halloween. I remember having to do multiple chores even at that age, barely having a moment of rest, although their son, who is only a few weeks older than me, never had to do a single chore. I was ordered to do whatever should have normally been his duty.
"At that time, I didn't even know my name. I was called 'Boy,' usually in a degrading tone, or just 'Freak.' You see, they consider everything out of normal, for a muggle, as freakishness, and having magic is certainly not normal, since there are so few magical people.
"Then, at age five, they had to send me to Kindergarten, as all muggle children are required to by law. It was then that I found out I had a proper name and that I was called Harry Potter. I still knew nothing about my heritage or my family. All I was told was that my parents were no good drunkards who died in a car accident in which I also got my scar. They forbade me from asking questions about my parents and even from asking questions at all. They only wanted me to do my chores and stay invisible, as much as they were concerned.
"Later, at age six, I had to go to school, along with my cousin Dudley. The first time we were graded, I felt very proud to get a good grade. I couldn't stay proud for long. As soon as my uncle saw that I had a better grade than Dudley, he decided that it was achieved by my 'freakishness' since he couldn't believe that I could do any better than his own son, who is actually an idiot. I quickly learned to keep my grades low enough to escape beating or starving – the usual punishment they gave me. I had never gotten enough to eat even when not punished, although their son got about four times as much food, and usually asked for seconds. He even stole some of my food off my plate. His parents didn't admonish him even once, not that I expected them to.
"During the first week, the teacher also found that I saw practically nothing unless I was very close to the board. She asked my aunt to have my eyes tested for the need of eyeglasses. My uncle didn't agree. He took me to a yard sale and had me check some of the eyeglasses there until we found something with which I could somehow see what was farther than a few paces. He considered it good enough for me.
"My time there continued in the same way, with trying to get low enough grades to not get any punishments, with multiple chores each day, and with starvation and occasional beating whenever they thought I did something wrong or just looked at them wrong.
"They never bought anything for me. All my clothes were hand-me-down from Dudley, who is much taller than me and at least twice wider, but they didn't mind. I even wonder how the neighbours didn't notice. Had somebody used some magic for that end?"
He could see Dumbledore cringe involuntarily at that. He didn't feel surprised.