Later in an alley, Harry was conspiring with his coconspirators.
“So how much did you get?”
“Pika, pika!” his friend said, holding her hands quite far apart to suggest a very large amount.
“43,562 lbs of gold? Let’s see, about 650 British Pounds per ounce (let’s round down for the ease of counting); there’s 16 ounces in a standard pound; 43,562 times 16 is 696,992 ounces; 696,992 times 650, that’s about…453,044,800 British Pounds.” Harry said, counting out loud. “Let’s reinvest that and then we’ll do it again. It’s about 5 British Pounds to a Galleon, so that’s 90,608,960 galleons. Each galleon is three ounces, so that’s 271,826,800 ounces, times 650, that’s a gross of just under 176.7 billion British Pounds. That should do me for a while. Maybe I’ll go buy Madripoor.”
“You’re right, I’d better wait ‘til Khan invades so I can get it cheaper.”
“Mr. Prime Minister, we need you to put out an alert that dangerous criminals have escaped from prison,” Cornelius Fudge announced in an abrupt apparition into the advanced abattoir the Minister was observing. He was Labor after all.
“This is highly irregular,” the Prime Minister said.
“Yes, however we’ve suddenly had a major attack at our prison and two of our biggest criminals have escaped,” Fudge said, nearly repeating himself. He handed over a couple of moving photos.
“You threw Captain Britain
” asked the incredulous PM.
“Captain Britain? Wears the Union Jack? Saved this nation more times than I care to count? Part of the premier superhero team in the UK?”
“I have no idea who you are talking about,” Fudge said. “This is an escapee, not some flag wearing guy.”
The PM just looked at the Minister for a long moment before holding out his hands for the files. “Just give me the files.”
Fudge did exactly that before apparating out without another word. The PM looked to his aid. “Bin these.”
“Yes, sir,” said the aid, tucking the files under an arm.
“Of course, this was all a distraction!” Fudge screamed to Lucius Malfoy. It had been days. “This is all an attempt to make the pureblooded families loose face!”
“Yes minister, it is quite dastardly,” Malfoy commented. Inwardly he was concerned for a different reason. This was obviously not one of his compatriots. They would have never been so lenient at Gringott’s. No one there had even been injured or hexed (aside from a few slither-by petrifyings) and that was clearly not a Death Eater’s modus operandi. Also, only two people were known to escape: the mysterious masked wizard who flew into the Minister’s office a week before and the criminal known as Sirius Black. A man Malfoy knew was wrongly accused, but he was not one to speak up about such things. “I am well aware of what has happened. Between the music curse and this, pureblooded society has been made laughing stocks. We cannot allow this to happen. But this is not why you called me here.”
Fudge slowly walked up and rested a kind hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Lucius, you need to sit down.”
“I can hardly see what can be so bad,” Lucius protested by he cut himself off at Fudge’s sad look.
“We finally got a report from Gringott’s as to what went missing,” Fudge said. “I’m sorry Lucius, but the Malfoy fortune was completely stolen. You’re broke.”
“What? Poor? Me? But! How? Why? Who? When?”
The semi-former Death Eater slumped into a chair.
“I know this is hard, but you’re not the only one.”
“The Blacks and the Potters and a number of other older Wizarding Families,” Fudge said sadly. “Why don’t you go sit down in the waiting room. We can go have dinner somewhere and talk it over. My treat this time.”
And that was just jabbing an open wound. Stunned, almost broken, Lucius sat down next to a young, extremely bored Harry Potter.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
“My name? Lucius, Lucius Malfoy,” the blonde man said numbly.
“You’re name’s Lucy? Wow your parent’s must have really hated you, or really wanted a girl, I guess it really depends on the situation,” Harry said. Lucius didn’t have the energy to correct him.
“Mr. Potter, would you please come in?” Fudge asked. Harry skipped and jumped into his chair across from the Minister of Magic. Headmaster Jessica Dumbledore stood next to him with a grave look on his face.
“How are you Harry?” Jessica asked in a kind voice. It was the type of voice adults usually used to tell Harry his dad had died again or were attempting to encourage a confession before accusing him of something. He knew this wasn’t going to be good.
“I’m doing okay. Got to visit some friends,” Harry said with a grin.
“Have you heard about what happened a few days ago?”
“Oh, you mean when the Twins made Ron eat a nosebleed nugat and he needed to go to Poppy’s?”
“No,” Dumbledore said, about to explain.
“Then when Hydra attacked the Shield base in Paris?”
“Not, not that either.”
“So it’s about Viper, also known as Madame Hydra, started making out with Kraven the Hunter’s oldest kid on live television?”
“No, most certainly not.”
“Mary Jane’s leaked faked sex tape? I hear it has her and Spider-Man going at it. pff!
like they even know each other.”
“What about when Magneto came back to life again, but really didn’t since the one who was killed was really a dude impersonating Magneto and his own brother at the same time, but nobody really knew 'cuz he wore a mask that made him look like a Dr. Doom rip off? Well, without the threads.”
“Nevermind. What’s up?”
“Last week there were coordinated attacks on Gringott’s Bank and the Wizarding Prison Azkaban,” Jessica explained.
“Oooh, I thought you were talking about important news,” Harry said.
“Yes, well it’s quite important to you,” Fudge said sharply. “The bank attack, those mice stole everything in your vault.”
“Oh,” said Harry. “Oh well, I’ll just have to find a few pounds and build it back up.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Well a little, but it’s not that bad,” Harry said. “It’ll take some time, but I can fix it.”
“You lost millions!”
“I feel there are more important things at stake here than just your money Harry,” Dumbledore explained. “Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban.”
“Who?” It was Harry’s turn to be confused for once.
“Sirius Black was a dark wizard who leaked your parents’ home to Voldemort,” Fudge practically screamed. He was quite red in the face.
“huh,” said Harry. He shrugged. “So what does that have to do with me?”
Jessica (Albus) Dumbledore and Fudge shared a look.
“He might be out to kill you,” Dumbledore said.
“Why would he want to kill me? I’m only twelve frikken years old!”
“He might want revenge.”
“Against me? Yeah right. I haven't even done anything to him.”
"No, Harry, revenge for putting him in prison."
"But I was an infant! I'm not possibly responsible."
"You did defeat his master."
"Only by dropping a piano on him."
"No, I mean when he gave you your scar."
Harry looked at Dumbledore with a stunned expression. He was utterly shocked.
"...I have a scar?"
Fudge and Dumbledore shared a look before choosing to ignore the comment.
“Harry, there are certain magical protections that you might need,” Dumbledore said. “You have family. If you’re with them, then you can live free of the threat of him.”
“hmmm…sure, why not?” Harry said. He was bored anyway. “Let me take care of a few things and I’ll head over. What’s their address?”
“4 Privet drive.”
“Cool, I’ll be there tonight.” Harry said. Before either of the men could say anything better he slipped out the door. Lucy Malfoy was still sitting in a chair as shell-shocked as if he were in the trenches. “Bye Lucy, hope you’re feeling better!”