Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, and I don't think I'll ever have the money to buy it out, either. -sniff-
This is just a ridiculous crack!fic that popped into my head the other day. It probably makes no sense whatsoever, but since when has that been a requirement for crack!fics?
I hope you enjoy!
He Who Mustn't Be Named, Really
After the war, it was made illegal the wizarding world over to say, write or in any way distribute the name Lord Voldemort. Harry, with Hermione's help of course, made quite sure of that.
He also made sure that there were some changes to wizarding laws, certain personal and press freedoms, and that Wizarding News Corporation, owner of the Daily Prophet along with several other wizarding newspapers both in Britain and elsewhere, was doing better than ever before. Hermione had raised an eyebrow at that one; she hadn't been the only one.
"But Ron, you don't understand. This is all going according to a plan of mine. And once it's over, I'll never have to deal with the likes of Rita Skeeter ever again."
You see, Harry had come up with a "clever" plan to get the press off his back. Note the quotation marks, please.
There was one last thing that he had to do before his scheme could be set in motion. But, although it carried its risks, Harry wasn't too worried about that. He had the clout, Hermione on his side, and, perhaps most importantly of all, the galleons.
.
Rita Skeeter was a mixture of furious and intrigued. She had, after many years of tireless journalism, finally discovered the boy-who-lived's underwear preferences - and a way to prove them too - a fact that was bound to make a most explosive story. However, on attempting to publish it, she had been told that on no uncertain terms could she do so.
Now, she was on the way to find out why - something which, she knew, could make an even more explosive story, if she could just get at it. And yet, she was experiencing a Very Bad Feeling About This; though she walked confidently into the atrium of the British Ministry of Magic, inside, her nerves were on edge.
Every decent reporter knew that Very Bad Feelings About This were to be trusted explicitly. Therefore, it was of no surprise to her - a reporter of the highest order - when the Ministry was being unusually uncooperative.
"Harry Potter has changed his name?" the journalist repeated, rather shocked by all accounts; beside her, her Quick Quotes Quill was scribbling madly. "But to what?"
"I can't say," said the Ministry official she had managed to secure an interview with. "I really can't."
Rita leaned in. "Has he bribed you?" she asked, voice low and intimate. "Threatened you? I can assure you that your name won't be published in my article." Though there had been a few more restrictions on the press regarding naming issues of late, she could still protect her sources, even if the people involved in the stories had to be named with their real names (unless, of course, underage protection laws and the like applied), a law which had ostensibly been introduced to enforce the naming and shaming of Death Eaters and their associates, but which had crept into other cases as well.
Nevertheless, the official shook his head. "I can't tell you. It would be against the law."
Rita's well-plucked eyebrows shot up. "He mustn't be named?"
"Um, yes," said the man, blinking. "How did you know?"
.
The saviour of the wizarding world whistled a jaunty tune as he was given the forms to buy out Wizarding News Corporation.
Things had gone a bit wrong for the news giant. One of its papers had found itself with a story it couldn't publish, but wanted to, and its parent company had skirted the laws as they knew them to get it done, explosively so. However, they had forgotten five very important things: 1) the story in question had been about the person who had pushed all the laws they were breaking through; 2) he had had them worded in a deliberately confusing way; 3) he had actually been prepared for the corporation to act the way it did; 4) he was represented by one of the best lawyers their world knew, Hermione Jean Granger, who also happened to be his best friend; and 5) he was the freakin' man-who-lived.
So here he now was, buying them out after all the fines and drop in popularity they'd suffered after losing their case had left them close to bankrupt.
All he had to do was Sign Here, Here and Here, and then a large percentage of the British wizarding press, along with several influential foreign newspapers, would be under his control.
Sign Here, Here and Here... and print his name in capital letters.
"Bugger," said Lord Voldemort, emerald green eyes widening with an unwelcome realisation. "Didn't think of that."