Synopsis:
In To The Dark Lord, it started out with all the way back in the 70's with Regulus being basically tortured into having a brutal-face, which of course refers to the Death Eater on the tower the night Dumbledore was killed. He couldn't get the locket Horcrux at that time, for he had discovered Voldemort's secret and waited patiently until the events of book 6 to finally retrieve it, or steal it from Dumbledore while Harry was chasing Snape (note: Harry immobilized the brutal-faced death eater on the tower and left him there). Regulus does destroy it, but realizes, or it would seem, that he must help Harry destroy the rest of them.

Throughout the story, Regulus meets up with Snape and they think of a plan, which is never said. Harry, Hermione, and Ron are searching for the Horcruxes, and are being tailed by Yaxley (the death eater who gave Regulus the brutal face) and Draco, among others. Once they finally retrieve the Horcruxes, Regulus teaches Harry how to destroy them only to come to see that Hogwarts is being attacked. However, we don't see the entire battle because Harry, along with Neville, are taken to Voldemort where they fight as well. For a complete understand, please refer to the Imprint Theory on how Harry survives the killing curse, but in the end, Snape is the one who kills off Voldemort.

By Order of the Ministry is about the hunt for the Death Eaters and destroying any hopes they have of terrorizing the free wizarding world. By this point, Regulus has been pronounced dead again. In the first part, the Aurors and the Order, reformed in honor of the late Dumbledore, begin to unravel a most disturbing plot to resurrect Voldemort, which fails, but proves to the Death Eaters that they are on the losing side. Rufus Scrimgeour had tricked Wormtail into keeping Voldemort's body alive and gave him memories, but this proved useless because they were old memories before he was officially Voldemort. Snape's memories were added, but it didn't help the cause much and the body was destroyed thereafter, only to have Scrimgeour consume the magical ashes and essentially have a copy of Voldemort's evil soul. In the end, his soul was taken away by the dementors and peace was thought to be restored. However, an unspeakable reported to Harry that the dementors never consumed the soul, but merely kept it for someone else.

This someone else proved to be Regulus, returned again, and bent on revealing his true loyalties to the Dark Lord which wasn't anticipated from either side. While the hunt was on for the mysterious person that turned out to be Black, Bellatrix had set up a plan to kill Lupin with Fenrir, which proved disastrous for Fenrir and resulted in his death. Other deaths up until the end of By Order of the Ministry include: Bill Weasley, Alecto (fell through the veil), Amycus (Avery's killing curse deflected by Regulus Black, Avery (father, killed by Peter Pettigrew), Rabastan Lestrange (killed by Lupin in his transformed state), Peter Pettigrew (killed by Avery for supposedly killing his father), Walden McNair (killed when a house collapsed on him), Fenrir Greyback (killed by Peter Pettigrew on accident), Lucius Malfoy (killed by Voldemort), Travers (killed by Regulus Black), Yaxley (killed by Voldemort), Mudungus Fletcher (killed by Borgin who was imperioused by Draco), Prichards (made up character killed by an unknown Death Eater), Wiggins (another made up character killed by an inferi), and lastly Severus Snape, (killed by Bellatrix Lestrange) and in his last second managed to transfer all his memories to Harry in an effort to figure out what is happening in The Return of the Dark Lord. When, again, peace was thought restored, Harry visits Grimmauld Place only to find that someone had written "Grindelwald Lives" on the wall, the Dark Lord wasn't Voldemort afterall.

This now leaves few Death Eaters, but the revenge will be swift, and the war is far from over.



PART 1:

Chapter One:

'There is no time Snape,' a voice echoed, 'I've given the prophecy and I'm not sure what to make of it.'

'Prophecy?' replied a cold yet somehow friendly Snape.

'Severus,' pleaded Regulus sounding out of breath, 'the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,' he was struggling for air and he strained his neck. 'Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.' Regulus took a deep breath and continued, Snape staring at him with awe. ' And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.'

Snape lifted his hand to silence Regulus. 'Very thought-provoking,' said Snape sarcastically, 'I'll tell Lord Voldemort as soon as possible.'

Regulus shook his head and yelled 'DON'T YO -' everything went dark, Snape had left before Regulus could finish.

*

It had all happened so fast for Harry in his first few weeks as an Auror. Not only did he have to deal with the attempt to resurrect Voldemort, but he had to deal with the insane group of people behind the whole mess. In fact, in the end, it all pointed straight to Grindelwald, or at least he thought it did. Harry remembered back, long ago, on his first train ride to Hogwarts, he learned that Dumbledore himself had defeated that particular Dark Lord in 1945. Isn't that just the thing, he wondered, Dumbledore defeated not killed Grindelwald. He never asked the former headmaster about him, and these past two days he found himself wondering why he never did.

Just yesterday, as he sat inside Grimmauld Place staring at the words that had been smeared on the wall, an owl landed next to him and began to gnaw on his wrist. Harry glanced down to see Hedwig with a letter attached to one of her legs. He undid the strings holding it there and read:

Mr. Potter,
Your presence is requested and required by the Acting Minister of Magic tomorrow at eight in the morning. The minister demands that you not be late.

Harry let it fall to the ground, as he did not particularly care for the ministry at this point. He was constantly being reminded of how many times they had let him down, ever since the fiasco after Voldemort returned in his fourth year at Hogwarts.

Ginny entered the room looking rather cautious since she didn't want to bother him. She seemed to glide across the room and she casually sat next to Harry and embraced him. "You need to sort out your priorities," she said jokingly.

"Ron says that," Harry smirked but looked preoccupied as he was still staring at the blood.

"I know, but you haven't been doing anything for a rather long time." She stroked Hedwig and then found the note the owl had brought. "I wonder what the Acting Minister wants with you."

"Probably to beg of me to deny that anything had happened," he looked at Ginny and placed his hand on hers. "This will be the last time."

Ginny seemed to light up, her radiance was unmatched. "I know, how many Dark Lords can there be?" Harry motioned with his shoulders that he didn't know the answer. "Whenever in doubt of the truth, Harry, an Unspeakable is the most trusted and knows what is right and what is wrong."

*****

Harry apparated into the Ministry of Magic and found himself walking towards the Minister's office the very next morning. There had hardly been any body in the building for some time, what with the renovations and repairing after Scrimgeour's attack. In less than five minutes he pressed on a door and it opened slowly, with a loud creak that startled the person inside the office.

"I'm sorry, Umbridge, I was looking for the..."

"...the Minister of Magic?"

"No, the Acting - "

"Well," Dolores Umbridge coughed and shot Harry a menacing glance, "that would be me."

Harry sulked for a few brief seconds before taking a seat. He wasn't necessarily surprised, though judging by Moody's reaction to Dawlish, she may have the prime choice while the real Minister was being acquired. Her toad-like expression lifted as she took her eyes off Harry to look out the window where a crow had just perched.

"Do you know why you're here, Potter?"

Harry stared at her with indifference, "To deny the existence of - "

" - Grindelwald?" She smiled grotesquely. "I'm afraid we cannot disprove that he is alive or dead, so for now we will concentrate our forces on the search and disposal of this fiend. However, that is not why you're here." She poured herself a cup of tea and took a sip. "Many of your dear friends have either decided to quit being Aurors or members of the Order," she scooted closer, her stomach touching the desk, "or have been forced to do so."

Harry's eye brows were distorted. "What do you mean?"

"This was all for your sake of course," she continued as if not being interrupted, "but if you decline then I'll be forced to take certain actions that would have your friends-" she pulled out her wand and conjured a light which dissolved, "-taken out."

"Are you threatening my friends?" Harry bolted up and whipped out his wand, but Dolores's was already drawn on him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said calmly but with a sense of urgency in her voice. "All I want you to do is go to Hogwarts and take up the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I do not want you anywhere near the Ministry while I'm seated here."

Harry let his wand fall back into his pocket, as he felt relieved that that was all she wanted from him. To go back to his home away from home and be with a few of his friends for a year. Perhaps that was it as well, maybe she knows that the position is cursed. He suddenly felt a little sorrowful, Snape had been the previous professor. He began to wonder if he had broken the supposed curse Voldemort had placed upon the position. "Why are you really doing this?" he let slip.

Umbridge poured herself more tea and shuffled some papers around on her desk. "I do not like you. I think you're a very vile creature and I don't want you around me." Harry blinked and had a blank expression before bursting out with laughter which immediately infuriated her. She tossed her tea cup at him which he dodged, then he ran out the door and down the hall, hollering with laughter the entire way.

"Hey Harry," yelled Dean from across the way, "what's so funny?"

"I'll tell you later," he said conjuring a napkin and wiping tears from his eyes. "I've been given a year off, Dean," he said more seriously.

"I know, we were told about the change late last night." He placed his arm on Harry's shoulder, "Listen, I'll keep you informed about everything that is happening with Grindelwald. Without you," he said, "we would have never have found out about this guy!"

"I appreciate it Dean," they shook hands. "At least I'll get to see Neville and Hermione as professors!"

"Neville as the Herbology professor and Hermione taking over Flitwick's position, who knew!?"

"Tell me about it," replied Harry. "Whatever happened to Flitwick anyway?"

"I think he just retired and decided to move on with his life, though I'm sure he'll miss Hogwarts. I think he's quite happy that Granger is taking over his position though. Who better right?" Dean glanced at the clock on the wall. "Sorry Harry but I have to go; we're going to patrol the south for a bit before regrouping in London." He noted Harry's expression of defeat, "don't worry, it'll probably be boring anyway." With that Dean disapparated from the ministry.

****

"So you're going back to Hogwarts then?" Ginny said rather concerned. "I must say, it seems like Umbridge is getting you out the way for a reason."

"Perhaps," replied Harry as he closed the lid on his trunk and tapped it with his wand, making it disappear. He turned his attention to Ginny again and stood slowly. "I'll write to you every week," he said. "And when I get back - "

" - I know," Ginny beamed, "I've told mum all about it."

Harry hugged and kissed her one last time and disappeared from Grimmauld Place and boarded the Hogwarts Express a few moments later, it was the first day of school.


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NOTE: I can't change it now, but the last chapter of "To The Dark Lord" should be:

The headmistress's office was fixed, so Harry returned to discuss certain things with Dumbledore that he didn't understand. Things that happened throughout the time of Voldemor that he didn't quite understand, including Snape's odd affection towards Regulus which even Dumbledore didn't have a straight answer for. Harry decided to hand over to Regulus Grimmauld Place, since it rightfully belonged to him. But Harry feared that Regulus, with the lifestyle he led, would soon be handing it back over to Harry. The new dark times were beginning, though not quite as disturbing before, but now there seemed to be more chaos rampant. Chaos due to unruly Death Eaters and despots not having a leader to tell them what to do.

I never really intended for the story to go this far, so I wrote what is there now for spinoffs and stuff!

Chapter 2

“Harry!” exclaimed Hermione taking a seat in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. “Sorry I took so long,” she looked out the window and noticed they were nearly to the school, “I was helping a group of second year Hufflepuffs lift a curse off a turtle.”

“Hermione, haven’t seen you in ages…a turtle had a curse on it?” Harry was eying her with curiosity.

“Well, I suppose an older student did it…most likely Mulciber and his little gang.”

“Mulciber?” Harry nearly reached for his wand.

“No former Death Eaters on this train, I’m afraid,” she looked annoyed. “Frederick Mulciber, the Death Eaters son, though his father’s age may seem unorthodox. He runs around with Cecil Harper, a rather uncouth student who smells funny, Jeffrey Belby, and Eric Bode.” She straightened her witch robes and finally sat as a student peaked into the room. “Ah, Harry, this is Henry Fletcher…”

“Before you ask,” the dark haired student said, “Mudungus was my great uncle.” He entered and shook Harry’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, your great uncle was a brilliant wizard.”

“I suppose, I unfortunately never got to meet him.” He brought his eyes to Harry’s scar, who looked a bit uneasy, “I heard he was great at being a thief.”

“Hiya Fletcher!” a tall and lanky boy entered the compartment, he had blonde and wavy hair and seemed to have something up his sleeve. “My goodness, you must be Mr. Potter!” He fell to the ground and started to act like he was worshipping the ground.

“Get up Abercrombie,” Hermione yanked on his coat in frustration. “This one acts like Fred or George I’m afraid, well, maybe a bit toned down.”

Harry got up to shake Abercrombie’s hand, and after which they excused themselves once they heard Sarah Hornby, another Gryffindor seventh year, calling their names. “They seem to be nice,” Harry commented.

“I bet they would,” Hermione exchanged looks with Harry. “They’re seventh years, I wish I had the pleasure to teach them longer though. Somehow they remind me of you and Ron.” She smiled at Harry and leaned closer to him and whispered, “All Gryffindors told me they would pledge their allegiance to you, should you ever teach at Hogwarts.”

“What?!” bellowed Harry. “I’m flattered…but why?”

“Well, its simple really,” she looked uneasy, “you helped bring down one of the darkest wizards of all time for starters.”

Harry seemed to turn red in the face from embarrassment. “Snape brought down Voldemort,” he remembered as he touched the side of his head, ‘and he had more things going on behind the scenes’, he thought. ‘And how would Voldemort still be alive, where has he been hiding all this time?....’ Harry shook his head, looking dazed, then looked at Hermione, had she said that?

“I know Harry…”

Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he said, “…and…and you and Ron helped me destroy the Horcruxes, I’m sure they’re just as pleasured to be in your company as they are with Neville…he was there too.”

“Alright Harry,” Hermione shot him a glance, “I get it. I guess there are just a lot of people who can talk to you a little easier than most, remember Lockheart?” She took note of Harry’s disgruntled expression. “What I mean is, is that you are famous but you don’t let it get in the way of your life. You don’t use it to your advantage like so many others have.”

“Oh look,” exclaimed Harry happy to see that Hogwarts had come into view, “I was getting worried.” He glared at Hermione, though he wasn’t sure why, while he grabbed his belongings.

“Are you coming to the feast?”

“He can’t.” Neville rather unceremoniously entered the compartment, stumbling over his robes. A few third year students chuckled as they walked by. “The Headmistress wants to see you as soon as possible.”

“Can’t it wait? If Harry has to see her, then they’ll both miss everything!”

Neville looked rather dismayed by this information, “That is true; it’s different seeing it from the other end of the hall. You wouldn’t think it, but those few stairs really allow you to see everything across the way…”

“..Thank you Neville,” Hermione interrupted. “Is this urgent?” The train had stopped and Hagrid’s voice could be heard calling the first years.

“It can’t be much,” Harry answered. “She’ll have to address the school anyway, so it won’t be that long.” He calmly walked to the doorway, “I’ll see you two in a bit.”

*******************

“Mr. Potter!” called Minerva McGonnagal from her desk in the headmistress’s office. “So glad you could make it.” She clasped her hands in joy. “Though under the circumstances I wish it had been at your own free will that brought you here.”

“Professor,” smiled Harry, “trust me, when this whole thing with Grindelwald is solved, I’d be more than willing to come here and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts…or any subject for that matter!”

“I’m sure you would make a wonderful potions master,” she responded and took not of Harry’s forced smile. “Now, down to business.”

“How may I be of service?”

“I’m afraid it won’t be me doing the talking,” she got up to leave, “I must address the students. Albus wished to have a few words with you before you start teaching.” She headed towards the door, turned slightly to make sure everything was in order, and continued down the corridor towards the Great Hall.

Harry realized there was no one in each of the portraits. “Er…Professor Dumbledore?”

“Up here, Harry.” Harry looked up towards the ceiling to see a group of past headmasters and mistress’s sitting at a table apparently drinking away. “Don’t worry, I haven’t had any this evening.” He got up to move, brushing past Armando Dippet and proceeding down various empty frames and finally arriving in his, beaming at Harry as if he were still alive and well.


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Chapter 3


“You wanted to see me, sir?” asked Harry when a few moments had passed.

“I dare say you have become quite the wizard, Harry,” exclaimed Dumbledore still smiling, “but enough with the polite gestures.” He closed his eyes and made his fingertips touch each other. “You discovered some sort of slogan in Grimmauld Place?”

Harry looked wide eyed at him, the news traveled fast, even though it had been three days. “That’s correct; it said ‘Grindelwald Lives’.”

“Very intriguing.”

Harry lifted an eye brow, “Sir?”

Dumbledore opened his eyes and it seemed he was looking through Harry, “I’m sorry, it just seems rather disheartening that he is somehow still alive.”

“Professor, if you don’t mind me asking…”

“…any question is fine Professor Potter.”

Harry was suddenly uplifted; he liked being referred to as a professor. “How did you defeat Grindelwald?”

“Great question,” he commented, “I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t tell you sooner.” He shifted around in his frame and got comfortable. “There was a muggle war at the time and it brought terrible destruction upon much of the world. The wizarding world faired much better, for we had all our magic to protect us from whatever evil or intentions that were in place. Needless to say, we took notice, and tended to stay out of the way for there were terrible things going on, things worse than death I’m afraid.

“One dark wizard took a liking to the events churning the world into chaos, and went as far as offering his services to the most greedy and vile of all muggles. When things started to turn in favor of the ‘all-eyes’, or the group that was trying to rid the world of the ‘axe-is’, he fled from public view and began to secretly start a muggle-wizard war from his head quarters established in the Netherlands, further continuing the crisis but bringing in the witches and wizards from across the world. Everyone took notice of this, but those able to fight him had been either seduced by his powers or were threatened to such a degree that they thought that should they put up a fight, they would be hopeless against him. A certain kind of dark magic he acquired, not sure to this day what it was, made people doubt themselves and live in fear, reliving their worst memories.

“I don’t want to humble myself, Harry,” Harry had taken a seat in the headmistress’s seat and was listening intently, “but I took the challenge, and of course there were other reasons beyond what he was already doing. I’ll explain those some other time though, perhaps when you accomplish finding the truth.” Harry nodded in approval but still felt he should know everything he possibly could about this new evil. “Not everyone was sure he stayed in the Netherlands, our sources said they saw him in Germany or Romania, even as far as Egypt, so it took me a good few weeks to finally pin point his location.”

“Is this how you found where the locket Horcrux was?”

“Sorry, Harry, but that shall also be for another day.” He winked at him before continuing, “I approached him, and offered him to comply with the Ministry, lay down his wand, and go to prison. He, of course, rejected the offer and we began to duel. I noticed that he only used one of his hands to do everything, from dueling to gripping a rock to throw. As menacing as this may sound, I managed a spell that sliced his right arm off, his hand still grasping the wand…”

“…you sliced his arm off?” Harry scooted in closer, making sure he wouldn’t miss a single word.

“I’m afraid so, Harry, and he wasn’t too happy about it himself. He spewed a mouth load of awful words at me, but none made me regret what I had done. It was then that he descended into the water that was in his headquarters – lake like- and never arose from it again to my knowledge. I stayed for a few days, disposing of his magical objects and other things lying about, and returned to Hogwarts with the good news. In my entire time in his little lair, I never saw him come out of the water, and there was plenty of blood to assume he had passed on. And I'm sure he has an arsenal of magic to, in essence, regrow his arm.

“Somehow and at some point he came out, and one can only assume that he, like Voldemort, had a Horcrux and has used it to stay alive this entire time. He brought Regulus Black and Rufus Scrimgeour, among others, to his side, perhaps he has more followers.” He looked down at Harry, his eye brows twitching. “Any questions so far?”

“I suppose you didn’t check the water because you weren’t entirely sure what it really was?”

“Correct,” beamed Dumbledore, “for all I know it could have been something more dangerous than those Inferi we experienced at the end of your sixth year.”

“I understand,” noted Harry and stood. “Well, I don’t want to miss the feast and I’m sure the students are curious as to who their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is…”

“Wait a second,” Dumbledore also stood and placed his hands on his hip, “There are a few more things I would like to address, then you can be off,” he said calmly yet forcefully.

“Right,” Harry sat again, “I’m sorry for being quick to leave.”

Dumbledore grinned, “The memories of Snape you possess, have they been giving you any trouble?”

Harry scratched his head and felt alarmed that Dumbledore now knew what had happened as well. “Just a little, sometimes I catch glimpses of what he remembered and had gone through.”

“Very good,” Dumbledore replied in a soft voice. “I want you to know, that those memories are vital to understanding this whole situation.” Harry nodded in approval again, “Don’t be afraid to use the pensieve or any other device that will help you peer into the depths of his mind.”

“I agree, Professor,” Harry said. “I’ll try my best to understand what is going on.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, much like how you succeeded in getting Slughorn’s memory.” He winked at Harry again, “Only this time you have the memories, they are just coming to you randomly or are interacting with what you are already thinking about.” He shot a glance towards the ceiling, Harry turned as well, and saw that a rather lumpy former headmaster had fallen through three picture frames before coming to a stop in someone else’s chair. “I must be off,” he got up from his chair and began moving through the frames, “I have to keep these old ones in line.”

“I’ll see you later then, Professor.” Then he thought how the old headmasters and mistress’s could move through each frame, ‘Phineas never did that.’

***********************

The following morning, Harry woke up late, and was happy to learn that he didn’t have any sort of vision involving Snape, Regulus, or Grindelwald. He slowly put on his robes and looked at the clock. “Merlin’s Beard!” He immediately bolted up and headed for the door, only then realizing he hadn’t put on any shoes. Pointing his wand at them, he commanded them to come to him, and he quickly put them on, though they were on the wrong feet. He opened the door trying to be as quiet as possible and peered down the corridor to make sure Filch wasn’t on the prowl. “Wait a second,” he said to himself, “this is ridiculous! I’m a teacher now.” He closed the door and it disappeared from prying eyes, like many staff room’s do.

He picked up his stride and finally arrived for his first teaching lesson with half the time already gone. Opening the door, all the seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherin students turned to face him, most eyeing him with awe, while a select few had blank or vicious expressions. “Good morning,” he said. “Sorry I’m late. I’m Professor Potter, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“What happened to Professor Snape?” asked a short and stubby student.

“I’m sorry, what is your name?”

“Tiberius Robards…”

Harry looked around the room, then said, “I’m sorry about your father, I never had the pleasure to meet him. As for Severus,” Harry suddenly felt a pang of something in his throat, “he is no longer among us.” He took a seat, looking calm yet inside he felt as though he wanted to weep. “You all have been taught from the basics on up to somewhat advanced defense, but of course your former teacher was the best.”

“Yes Professor Potter,” a dim witted Slytherin stood in the back of the class and pressed his enormous hands on his desk. “Professor Snape was the best, though his uncanny ability to play both sides was extraordinary.” He surveyed the room, “What can you teach us that he didn’t? How are you any better than he was?”

“Frederick Mulciber, am I correct?”

“Yes sir,” he smiled sarcastically and plopped back into his seat.

“I’m not entirely sure what I can teach you lot since I haven’t seen how you react in certain situations,” he called Mulciber up to the front and he lazily complied. “Send me a curse, mind you no Unforgiveable Curses…”

Mulciber seemed to giggle inside as he lifted his wand and pointed it at Harry, “EXPELLIARMUS!” Harry was too quick for him, he did a simple Protego blocking charm and used Levicorpus to lightly pin him to the wall. “Let me go you fool!”

“I see Severus didn’t teach you how to do non-verbal spells.”

“He did, professor,” said Abercrombie from the group, “but I don’t think Mulciber quite caught on to the subject.”

“There you have it Mulciber; you haven’t exactly excelled or come to the level where your classmates are.” He let Mulciber go, falling to the ground, he quickly gathered himself and ran to his seat where he confided in another student. “I want you lot to brush up on your skills learned from your first six years, choose a partner and practice. Your partner will note what you have forgotten or what you need work on. I expect this done in two days time; you’re excused for your next class.”

Everyone gathered their things to leave except Fletcher, Abercrombie, Robards, and two others who remained where they sat. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

“We really appreciate what you have done, Mr. Potter,” said one of the other two, who had blazing red hair, very much like the Weasleys’.

“Entwhistle is right, and we want you to know,” Robards said, “that if you ever need us, we’ll be there. Us Gryffindors got to stick together right?”

All Harry thought that he should do was smile. “Thank you, but hopefully I’ll be able to take care of myself…”

“…what happened to Professor Snape?” one of the other student was looking at Harry with curiosity.

“Perhaps I can tell you lot another day, it is a rather long and confusing story, and I don’t want to get you into any trouble with your next class.”

“We understand,” Robards proclaimed, “another day sounds fine.” He led the way out of the classroom; Abercrombie was the last to leave.

Harry found himself in his room for the hour; he didn’t have a class scheduled. He pulled out his two way mirror that he managed to fix and stared into it, his reflection becoming blurry. ‘The other is with Sirius beyond the veil,’ he thought. He tossed it onto a bundle of clothes and decided to lie down, staring into the flames of the fire place, imagining he was talking to his god father again.


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Chapter Four:

The day had passed by quickly. He finished his lessons and joined the other professor’s at the head of the Great Hall, sitting next to Hermione and Hagrid, who was beside Neville. He looked out onto the student’s and envisioned him among them, enjoying Pumpkin Juice. Suddenly, he was tapped on the shoulder by Firenze, the divination professor to the older students.

“Mr. Potter,” he said, “I’m delighted you have joined our staff, and you Miss Granger, it will always be a pleasure.”

“Thanks Professor Firenze,” they shook hands, “how have you been doing?”

“Great, but as usual, the first year students tend to eye ball me.” He looked up at the enchanted ceiling, “that’s odd, Mars is awfully bright, but I guess it could be the magic.” He glanced over his shoulder to see an uneasy Trelawney, a rare sight in the Great Hall, sipping what looked like water. “Well, I have a few things to do, good night to you all.” He trotted out of the Great Hall and disappeared around the corner.

“He’s been acting strange ever since we all arrived,” commented Hermione, “I suppose we should talk to him.”

“I think it’s just all the people, perhaps he had this place all to himself over the summer.” He took a sip of his juice, “remember, his fellow centaurs banished him?”

“Or rather tried ter kill him!” Hagrid added, “but they claim its part ‘o ‘ther culture ‘an all.”

Harry looked up at Hagrid to show that he understood, he then turned to Hermione, with a rather menacing expression on his face, as if he wanted to do her harm and said with such cruelty that Hagrid nearly choked on his food. “What type of pressing matter is this, you idiot?” he paused, “what…where are you taking me…” Harry came out of the small trance, and realized that everything was how he had ‘left’ it. Hagrid and Hermione were in shock, but everyone and everything else was how it should be.

“Forgive me,” he said, “that wasn’t me talking…”

“I know, Remus told us so that we would understand,” Hermione had a sympathetic expression.

“Its jus’ weird?” commented Hagrid, “yer voice gets deep.”

Feeling embarrassed for himself, he said “If you’ll excuse me, I think I should try to make sense of what just happened,” He left the table rather abruptly, a few teachers watching him and thinking how rude of him. He got to his room and made himself comfortable on his bed. ‘Maybe this is how I should try it,’ he thought.

In his mind’s eye he could see a dark room, with a light shining on the door outside, coming though every crack. He looked around, but couldn’t see a thing. Suddenly, he was up and walking, opening the door violently and coming upon a young man, not nineteen years old. He looked as though he were cold for he was shivering, and scared since he was looking at him and cowering in terror.

“S…Severus…I have some pressing news.” When he spoke it sounded as though he wanted to cry. Snape let him fall to the ground, and he stood back up, still cowering nonetheless.

“What type of pressing matter is this, you idiot?” Snape moved in closer and held a fist up.

“Please, you must understand,” he grabbed Snape’s arm.

“What? Where are you taking me?” In an instant, they appeared in the entrance to a darkened cave, though the bright moon shined down upon them, making abstract shadows upon the walls.

“There is no time Snape,” Regulus’s voice echoed throughout the cave, and he shuffled around in the darkness. “I’ve given the prophecy…and I’m not sure what to make of it.”

Harry spoke but it was Snape’s words that came out, he felt taken aback and curious, yet doubtful all the same. “Prophecy?”

Suddenly there was whooshing sound, and Harry could see the scene changing from the dark cave to a dusty tavern that he recognized as the Hogshead. He was standing in the middle of the entryway again, wearing black robes and looking as pale as ever. Looking over to the corner, he could see a person shrouded in the same attire but with a hood over his entire head. At that he felt relieved and approached the person.

“Regulus, it was a mistake to come here. You know I am no longer a Death Eater.”

“Then you believe Voldemort will return as well?” A croaky voice retorted. “You wouldn’t have mentioned you being a Death Eater if you thought he were dead.”

He straightened his robes and took a seat. “I haven’t doubted that he will, but that is besides the point…”

“…the Dark Lord will return,” exclaimed Regulus bending forward so he was in Snape’s face. “And I want to know if you’re with me or against me, friend.” He took a drink of firewhiskey and Snape could see the many scars he had been given by Yaxley.

“You know my loyalties, Regulus.” He stood up gracefully as if he weren’t even seated.

“Before you leave, I have another prophecy for you.”

“And what might that be?” Snape said loudly and the barman edged closer without them noticing. “This isn’t it, but it’s what I’ve understood it to be. You must be here next summer in order to hear the prophecy again, so that Voldemort will know for sure what he thinks he should do.”

“Why did you approach me twice about the prophecy, you said before that you had a certain matter to tend to the night you were given that brutal face.”

“Things change, Severus, as you duly noted.”

Severus turned around again to leave and said with his back turned, “I’m disappointed in you.” He calmly walked out of the Hogshead and the scenery changed yet again, only this time it felt more real than ever.

Harry found himself sleep walking towards Hagrid’s hut in the middle of the night, no one had noticed him walking all the way from his room to the middle ground between the hut and the school. He awoke and looked around, Fang was barking at the window. Hagrid bolted out the door, a crossbow in one hand and an axe in the other, he came before Harry and towered over him; he looked down to see the figure before him.

“’Arry! What a pleasant surprise!” Him walking towards Hagrid’s hut wasn’t a vision, it was real. ‘What was I doing?’ he thought. He had seen memories of Snape, perhaps he was drawn to his hut for a reason, and he kept it to himself, as yet another mystery that he hoped to solve.


What did you think?

Chapter Five

Harry continued to have small glimpses of Snape’s memories throughout the following few weeks. Every so often he would see his father, or Sirius, and at times other things he had never noticed before at Hogwarts. It was never enough, however, because it went on and off, almost as fast as he saw them it would disappear. He couldn’t quite keep a hold of any of the memories, and he knew he couldn’t use the pensieve if he had no idea what memory to place within it.

By the beginning of October he finally received a letter from Dean. He had kept away from Hermione, Neville, and the other professors for fear of letting the memories get the best of him again. He stowed away in his room and decided to read the note by the fireplace.

Harry,
We haven’t had any success in capturing Grindelwald. Many of us, not me mind you, have begun to conclude that it was all a hoax and that there really isn’t a ‘Dark Lord’ roaming about somewhere. I’m sorry Harry, but I’ll try to continue the search, but we haven’t received any leads at all. Because of this, we have now started to look for Draco and his group again. Perhaps that is why Umbridge wanted you gone. I think she’s taken a liking to him ever since she was the Inquisitor in our fifth year.

Well, I better be off.
I’ll keep you updated,
Dean

Harry crumpled up the letter and tossed into the fire, where it become nothing more than ashes.

The fourth, sixth, and seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were doing great. Frederick Mulciber continued to pout about not being able to do any intense spells, and he may have been right, what with them being the seventh year and all. As much as he and the fellow Slytherin’s complained, the Gryffindor’s felt that they should help Harry in any way possible.

“We have to do things right,” Henry Fletcher said a few days later, “we must brush up on our skills, like Professor Potter says.”

“Right,” said Harry raising his wand, “but I believe,” he glanced at Mulciber and a few of his cronies sitting near him, “that most of us have come to a point where we can now officially begin seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“It’s about time,” exclaimed Eric Bode.

“What have we remembered these past few months?” Harry asked looking around the classroom.

Almost immediately Joseph Abercrombie raised his hand and Harry beckoned him to talk. “We’ve reviewed our non-verbal spells, and basic defensive curses and the like.”

“Exactly. Anyone else?”

Sarah Hornby decided to answer, “we’ve also undergone some strenuous physical endurance.”

“Correct! five points for Gryffindor. We’ve also reviewed a host of other semi-non-significant things that I won’t go over again, unless anyone wants me to of course.” He began to pace around the classroom until he finally came to a stop with his wand pointed at his chin. “I personally haven’t seen you all in a mock combat situation. We still have about thirty minutes before dismissal,” he looked out towards the Quidditch Field, “we will test each others might, if you will.” He told the students to follow him out onto the field, where the Gryffindors lined up to face the Slytherins.

“I don’t want this to be an all out battle,” he told in a stern voice, “and I do not want anyone to get hurt.” He walked to the middle of the group. “First house to have all their students knocked down is the winner.” He lifted his wand, and strolled back to where he was standing before so he himself wouldn’t get attacked, and all the students either got ready to brace themselves or to unleash some sort of attack. When Harry brought his wand to his side, there was suddenly a cloud of smoke and a bunch of people yelling spells. Out of the thick of it all, Peter Entwhistle flew uncontrollably next to Harry where he rested for a few moments. “You can’t get back up, Entwhistle, once you’re down…” He mumbled a spell which blew the smoke away from the area and found that several others were still going at each other, but to his horror, it wasn’t with wands but with their fists.

Cecil Harper and Mulciber were encroaching upon Alex Brown who was helping Robards fight off Jeffrey Belby. Mulciber grabbed Brown by his arms so he was powerless to do anything and suddenly Harper slammed a huge fist into his stomach then let him drop to the floor. Harry immobilized everyone else then calmly walked up to the middle of the whole again.

“What is this?” he demanded to know looking at each of the students. “Who conjured the smoke?” Shelly Coote and Fletcher were looking at Trisha Hampton, a Slytherin, with malice. “Did you do this Miss Hampton?” She didn’t answer nor look at him. “Fifty points from both houses,” Harry said rather shakily and felt as though he were Percy. “I guess we’ll have to go back to learning how to control ourselves.” He looked towards the castle where Professor McGonnagal, Hagrid, and Madam Pomfrey were running towards them. “I guess they’ll get you lot cleaned up…” He began to move but somebody gripped his robes.

Looking down, he saw Joseph Abercrombie. “Sir,” he said, “I’m sorry.” He stood with a bloody nose, “They started it...”

“How did you feel when you were being attacked?” Harry stared deep into his eyes, almost reading his thoughts.

“Scared…and perhaps a little excited,” he answered looking down, feeling ashamed. By this point Fletcher and Robards were standing next to Abercrombie. Harry thought he heard them whisper something about the first week of December, but when they noticed him, they quieted down real fast.

"I'm not sure I want to know what is happening between these two Houses right now," he said, but being scared is not a weakness,” Harry told them, “doing nothing about it, is.” With that he stowed his wand away within his robes and stalked calmly back to the castle, knowing that the weekend had arrived and he would some rest.


Thanks for reading!

Chapter Six

Harry returned to his sleeping quarters, after having used his wand to reveal the door, and felt as tired as he ever had. He also saw, after glancing at his clock, that he still had another lesson to do with the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw third years. He waved his wand again and a glass appeared with water in it, which he quickly drank down. ‘I’ve never been this thirsty in my life,’ he thought to himself. With the fire roaring in the background, he decided to lie down on his bed and take a nap before his final lesson of the day.

Slughorn had left his job a year ago and was replaced by a Ministry appointed professor who wasn’t nearly quite capable of fulfilling his job. Old Horace felt he was too much of a nuisance by the end of his career and decided to pack his bags, grab a portkey, and be off into the night. Harry thought that, more likely, it had something to do with Dumbledore’s death. Just then, something struck a chord in Harry, almost like nothing he had felt before. He remembered going to Hagrid’s in his sixth to try and trick his former potions master into giving up a most precious memory. He got up calmly and looked out his high window to see that Hagrid’s hut was still in pristine order, with the half-giant outside teaching Gryffindor and Slytherin second years about doxies and the like.

Why had he suddenly felt grief-stricken when he thought of Slughorn? He felt himself thinking the same way as he closed his eyes, and a scene unfolded before his eye lids. It was Slughorn’s very office, the same where he had talked to Tom Riddle all those years ago about Horcruxes. He looked around and his eyes came to a stop before a closet door where he looked down and saw none other than Horace Slughorn all tied up and gagged so he couldn’t speak.

He slammed the door closed when a pale yet agile student entered the room looking rather perplexed.

“Professor, whatever is the problem?”

Harry was shocked to see that he himself, in Snape’s memory, was actually being portrayed as Slughorn. In his mind’s eye he looked back to the closet where he just saw Slughorn tied up. If that was Slughorn, then who is this imposter?

“Everything is fine m’boy,” Horace bellowed. He grabbed the students shoulder and they began walking out the door, Slughorn turning to see if the closet was still closed before continuing on. Harry, unlike previous experiences, was actually within Slughorn’s body and not out on his own as if he were within the pensive. “What can I help you with, Regulus.”

The student stopped in his tracks and eyed the professor with curiosity. “What is wrong with you?” he asked as he decided to keep going down the corridor, “you normally call me by my surname.”

“Yes, of course,” Slughorn briskly walked ahead of Regulus and soon realized he had gone a few steps in front of him. “Well, Black, aren’t you coming? I thought you had something to tell me.”

“Er…right.” They turned a corner and began walking up a flight of stairs. “As you know, I’ll be graduating Hogwarts in a few months…”

“Excellent,” exclaimed Horace, “want me to put in a good word for you at the Ministry?”

“No, that’s not what I was hoping to talk to you about,” Regulus stepped in front of Slughorn so he would stop. “I want to know everything about…about…about the Dark Lord. You told me to come back later, remember?”

Horace seemed to grin for a few seconds, though it was hard to tell from the mustache on his face. “The Dark Lord? What is it that you would like to know?” His stomach startled to growl, “oh, sorry Black, I must be hungry!”

“Right then, I’ll make it quick…” He paused for a moment, staring at Slughorn’s forehead with a sincere amount of interest before continuing, “Can you tell me about Horcruxes? You said you would.” He had a menacing expression on his face, “I stumbled upon that secret of his, and it’s the only one that makes sense…”

Slughorn appeared unaffected by the mention of the Horcruxes, unlike all those years ago and the years later when Harry confronted him about them. “I’ll tell you all you need to know.” He scrambled away towards the bathroom leaving his student in the corridor. “But it’ll have to wait until later!” Harry found himself in the bathroom, staring at a much disfigured Slughorn, his body suddenly morphing before his eyes into a much younger, leaner, thinner, taller, and paler Severus Snape. He coughed to clear his throat then hollered from the sink in a low voice, “tomorrow, m’boy, most definitely.” He then heard Regulus’s footsteps echo down the hallway towards the Great Hall.

Snape reached for the door handle to leave when someone else entered the room rather calmly and appeared to be collected and at peace. “What are you doing here, Severus?” asked Dumbledore.

“Dumbledore!” breathed Snape. “I was just leaving.” Snape headed for the door again but Dumbledore caught him on his sleeve. “Don’t harass my potion’s master again, do you understand?” he said in a stern voice. “Now,” he calmed down, “leave at once and I don’t want to see you here again.”

“Yes, sir,” Snape opened the door and turned to face Dumbledore, who had his back to him, before slipping away down the hallway in the opposite direction. It seemed as though the floor had split apart, the walls were collapsing, and the sky could be seen through the ceiling.

Harry suddenly awoke back in his room, Hermione was sitting next to him on a chair. “You missed your last class of the day, Harry,” she said rather disgruntled, though a smile could be seen from the light of the fire. “Come on,” she tugged on his robe and sounded more energetic, “its dinner in the Great Hall!”

Harry got up and stretched, then trailed Hermione out the door, stopping for a moment to make his door disappear from unsuspecting eyes. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall and Filch rounded the corner in front of them and both had an expression of some sort of combination of awe, curiosity, and concern.

“Oh good,” exclaimed Minerva. “Will both of you accompany me?” Without awaiting an answer she hurried up the staircase and proceeded towards the Astronomy Towers. The last time Harry had been there was when Dumbledore was killed by Snape. Filch, once they reached the foot of the steps towards the top, stopped and strolled away back towards the castle.

“What is she on about?” whispered Hermione.

“I haven’t got a clue!” Harry said loudly.

Still leading the way up the steps, Minerva stated, “It’s something of interest.” In a matter of two minutes they reached the top of the high tower where Neville, Professor Vector, and Madam Hooch were already observing something in the distance. “Look,” she said pointing into the forest.

“I can’t see anything,” Hermione commented.

“Let your eyes adjust, Miss Granger,” Vector said not looking at Hermione.

Some distance in, though closer than the horizon made it appear to be, a structure had arisen out of the forest floor.

“I…I see it!” Harry turned to Minerva. “What exactly is it?” His eyes opened a little more, “and why did you think I would know anything about it?”

“It appeared there earlier this evening, when the sun was just setting, and Professor Sinistra mentioned to me that it was a pyramid, but she couldn’t tell how large it was.” She shifted for her wand, suddenly feeling unsafe. “And you weren’t the first person I came to looking for answers,” she nudged her head in the direction of the others. “But I came to you for a more expeditionary aspect of it all.”

Harry looked off into the distance to try and see the pyramid more clearly. “I’m not too sure I’d like to do that, Minerva,” he said softly, “it doesn’t look too inviting from here.”

The sound of hooves could be heard coming up the tower stairs, and in a few moments Firenze appeared before them. “Pluto hides behind Neptune this night,” he said looking up into the sky. “That pyramid holds ancient secrets.”

“You’ve been there, Firenze?” asked Harry.

“Not I,” his eyes widened, “but legends foretold of its appearance.”

“Would you be willing to journey to the structure, Firenze, to find out what it is?” Minerva smiled at him for reassurance.

“Humans don’t know the kinds of magic they invite themselves to be a part of.” He said as if he didn’t hear Professor McGonagall. “I can’t go there myself, for I have been banished from the Forbidden Forest and would likely be killed in the wood.” His eyes became fixed on Harry, “and I would advise anyone to not go there, for fear of death themselves.”

“Professor!” yelled Hagrid near his hut, “Professor McGonagall…may I ‘ave a word with you concernin’ the Slytherin fourth years an’ their punishment fer wha’ they did today?”

“Yes, of course!” Minerva yelled back. “If you’ll excuse me…the Slytherin's happened upon a box of flobberworms and set them loose onto Hagrid’s garden.”

“When will they learn?” Hermione added.

Madam Hooch and Professor Vector excused themselves as well and were soon seen crossing the field back towards the castle. Neville remained, still trying to get a look at the pyramid even though the sun had finally gone down.

“Firenze,” Hermione said, “what kinds of legends were foretold about that pyramid?”

Firenze moved towards the entrance to the roof, almost not wanting to answer the question. “It’s always been common knowledge that when the pyramid would arise, that either chaos would follow or the golden age of peace.” He looked at Harry, “but we have many doubts about one and are quite confident of the other.” Once again he looked to the stars, “I see ice and departure, among the most feared things, for Pluto remains hidden by Neptune.” He glared at Hermione, “I cannot say anymore until I have observed the heavens for some time.” With that he quickly walked away down the steps.

“Ice and departure?” Neville asked, “What do you suppose that means?”

“Departure,” Hermione repeated, “in essence, loneliness, being left behind, even death.” She looked from Neville to Harry, “it could be any of those.”

“A shell of your former self,” Neville added, “for once there was life but it has diminished, thus departing.”

Chapter Seven:

Halloween and the month of October soon were another distant memory. With November in full swing, and the year beginning to close, Harry decided to try out Dumbledore’s idea with the pensieve. With a busy week ahead of him, he only had time on Tuesday to actually set the plan in motion of being there for a full evening. The day before, many of the Hufflepuff fifth years managed the Patronus charm, with one producing a general in the form of a black leopard.

After writing to Ginny, he left his quarters around midnight, almost instinctively grabbing his Marauder’s Map he managed to get back not too long ago. He decided to look at it anyway, even though he wasn’t in fear of getting caught like he would have if he were still a student. To his mild surprise, he saw Joseph Abercrombie and Alex Brown forming some mischief in the Great Hall, while it appeared that another student named Daniella Arpton was in the library with one Linus Abbott.

What caught his attention was Firenze, who was just on the map towards the edge. Once he approached a window where he could see where Firenze was, he looked out and saw shadowy figures on the field that led directly into the Forbidden Forest. They looked like horses, and it wasn’t too long before Harry put two and two together and came to the conclusion that Firenze was either talking to fellow centaurs or was being stalked, while the mystery centaurs were just off the map.

He knew he shouldn’t listen, but he strained to hear more, to no avail. Instead of trying to sneak towards them, he headed straight for Professor McGonagall’s office where the pensieve was.

“My goodness!” exclaimed Minerva, “Mr. Potter, I wasn’t expecting you,” she said rather startled. Dumbledore didn’t even take notice for he was slumbering away.

“I’m sorry for not informing you, Minerva,” Harry said, “is it alright if I use the penseive tonight?”

Minerva smiled, “By all means, Potter. I’m just finishing some paper work.”

Harry nodded and went to the penseive, the almost liquid yet almost gas element shined bright blue and blazing white at the same time. ‘Alright,’ he thought, ‘I need some memories.’ He brought his wand tip to his forehead where he extracted a few random memories and placed them in the penseive.

“You know how to use that properly, don’t you Potter?”

“Of course,” replied Harry in a near whisper, “I’ve used it on a few occasions.”

He brought his full concentration on the penseive where he suddenly felt as though he were falling through space until he landed in the Great Hall of all places. He looked around and noticed that not many people were around except for around ten at the Gryffindor table, six at the Slytherin table, and two or three combined for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. They all appeared to have just finished eating and were getting up the courage to finally go off to their common rooms. Harry’s eyes landed on Snape, who must’ve been no older than twelve at this time, he was finishing a spoonful of Elf-made custard.

“Severus!” Harry heard someone yell, “Oh my dear Severus!” Snape suddenly turned bright red and looked right through Harry who was sitting across from him. Harry promptly turned around and his own eyes suddenly became wide. The person calling on Snape was Sirius.

“What would we do without our dear Severus?” Harry heard another voice and realized it was his father, who he looked strikingly like him. His heart was beating extremely fast as he had only experienced seeing his father a few times. He tried looking around for his mother as well, but Lily was no where to be seen. By this time, James and Sirius were clumsily walking over the tables to reach Snape.

“What do you want from me?” Snape said in a more terrorized sort of manner, blowing his nose and breathing in, his nose was stuffed.

“Did you just hear what I heard James?” Sirius patted Harry’s father on the shoulder.

“Sounds to me like he’s crying!” James started dancing around on the Hufflepuff table, knocking over goblets of Pumpkin juices and proclaiming what a baby Snape is.

“No, James, we’re not dealing with Severus Snape anymore,” Sirius smiled at Snape with mild contempt. “We’re dealing with…SNIVELLUS!”

James suddenly stopped prancing around and jumped off the table, staring at Snape the whole time. “You’re right, Sirius…SNIVELLUS, SNIVELLUS, SNIVELLUS…” James’s voice continued on as an echo as the scene suddenly shifted.

He soon found himself facing Dumbledore, who looked very concerned. There apparently had been some sort of tragedy for all those around him were crying or were yelling, some standing around with blank expressions, almost in shock. It was then that Harry found himself looking straight into himself, who appeared to be terrified. He looked around, down a small hill and rested his eyes on a sheet that was covering a body with a weeping man hovering over it. He had arrived right after he escaped from Voldemort in the graveyard.

Snape nodded at Dumbledore, and they were suddenly whooshed away and in a matter of a few seconds Harry found himself in what has become a familiar nightmare. He stood, again, in the graveyard and he found himself reliving the experience that gave a new life to Voldemort.

“I thought you had left me forever, Severus!” yelled Voldemort, there was grumbling among the crowd of Death Eaters. “I’m afraid I must kill you…”

“Wait,” Snape fell to his knees, “I…I stayed true to you…I have always served you…” He sounded fearful but Harry felt as though it were all an act. Snape fell completely to the ground, as if he were bowing to Voldemort.

“True to me? When I was with that fool Quirrel, you tried in every way to stop me from gaining power.” Voldemort looked more evil than ever. “That stone certainly would have revived me.”

“My Lord, how was I to know that it was you under that turban?” Snape looked up and avoided Voldmeort’s gaze but he knew he must have talked some sense into him at that point, “I simply thought Quirrel was trying to gain power for himself.” He stood up, “and I, like the others, thought you had died!” There was a stir among the Death Eaters, but Voldemort remained silent. Snape stepped forward so he was only arm’s length away from the Dark Lord. “I have years of knowledge that none of the other’s can provide you with.”

Voldemort stood his ground, “This is true, my dear Severus, but why didn’t you attempt to kill that Potter child before?”

Snape closed his eyes, “If I had killed him, I would have been a marked man.” He looked out towards the others, laying eyes on Lucius Malfoy and Mr. Crabbe. “I thought you had been killed, so I simply took the opportunity to remain out of Azkaban, it would be what any intelligent wizard would do.”

Voldemort smiled grotesquely. “Very well,” he said in a menacing manner, “you’ve proved yourself loyal and worthy, but that does not escape you from any punishment!” His voice suddenly grew louder. “That goes for each and every one of you!”

Snape turned his back on Voldemort, and the scene suddenly changed as if a hurricane had engulfed the area. Instead of a dark graveyard lit by the moon overhead, Snape and Harry now found themselves at the entrance to a cave.

“Black,” Snape talked low, peering into the darkness, “Black, are you here?”

“You may enter, Severus,” a voice bounced off the walls of the cave.

Snape pulled out his wand and muttered the Lumos spell to give himself some light. He took a few steps inward and arrived in a make shift sleeping quarter, equipped with a bed made of straw. “What is it that you want, Regulus?” Snape sounded disgusted.

“My brother will one day be here,” Regulus calmly said stroking the wall nearest him, “I can feel his fear,” he stood up and clenched a fist, “and his love for someone other than his brother.”

Snape raised his eyebrows, “He thinks you are dead.”

“I know these things, Severus…”

Snape interrupted, “Why have you requested my presence?”

Regulus remained in the dark, but from the light of the Lumos one could see his brutal face he had received some years previously. “I want you to join me and the Dark Lord.”

“I cannot join forces with those I cannot see…”

“Don’t be a fool, Severus,” Regulus’ voice sounded deep and croaky. “He can make you feel things you have not imagined, make you do things you could not have even dreamt about.”

Snape shifted a little, no doubt he felt a little uneasy and he felt that it was a wise choice to have his wand out. “What are you talking about?”

“The Dark Lord has survived all these years by a single Horcrux,” he stepped forward, “just one! Voldemort needs multiple ones,” he boasted, “…not even I…” He paused, “…not even I…”

Snape stood still, not wanting to miss a single word. “What is this madness?”

“I would be a fool to speak of our plan out loud, you know this.” Regulus turned around and sat down on his straw bed, “There are prying ears at each turn, it’s simply too dangerous.”

Suddenly everything went white, and Harry felt as though he had gone blind. He didn’t understand what had just happened and he couldn’t control it. Each and every way he looked all he could see was white, no other color, as if he had fallen into an endless pit of the color. Just as he had lost hope, someone grabbed him by the collar of his robes and flung his head out of the penseive. Once he came to his senses, he looked up to see Professor McGonagall with a grin on her face. He glanced at the clock; he had been there for nearly two hours.

“I had a feeling you didn’t know how to get out of penseives,” she said. Indeed, it was something Harry hadn’t thought of; he had always had Dumbledore there to get him out of the penseive and didn’t anticipate it being that difficult. “Think of it as mind over matter,” she explained, “you have to convince your mind that what you are seeing isn’t real, almost like a dream but at the same time a past reality.”

Harry sat there in a daze, “Thank you Professor, I guess I have to work on that right?” He began to feel around in his robe for his Marauder’s Map, but couldn’t locate it.

“Looking for this?” Minerva held out a piece of parchment, “I haven’t seen anything like this, Potter.” Harry stood and went to reach for it, only to have Minerva pull her hand back, “I hope you don’t mind if I keep it for a little while,” she smiled at him.

“I can’t let you do that, Minerva,” he said in a serious tone.

Minerva took off her glasses and sat down at her desk. “And why is that?” she sounded irritated.

“Because…er…because…you see, I…er,” Harry was at a loss for words, he couldn’t come up with any excuse.

“…his father left if for him,” Dumbledore had woken up and noticed Harry.

“I see,” Minerva said, “very well, but I may need it in the future.”

“You know where to find me,” Harry said, stowing the parchment in his robes and winking at Dumbledore. “Thank you for letting me use the penseive, I would hazard a guess that I would need it again. Have a good night.” Without another word he left the headmistress’s office.

Once back in his sleeping quarter’s he unfolded the map. Eric Bode was now taking a look around the Great Hall, but Filch was hot on his pursuit. Joseph Abercrombie and Alex Brown were long gone. He looked out onto where the field heading towards the Forbidden Forest was and found that Firenze was still standing near the tree line, but now just a stone’s throw from Hagrid’s hut. Fearing something would happen to both of them; he bolted out of his room, walked to the nearest window and muttered a rather bright lighting spell which shot out of his wand and erupted in the sky like fireworks, revealing the entire field. He quickly looked on his map and saw that Firenze was charging straight towards him. Immediately he ran to his room where, once inside, the door would disappear, but he knew better. Any staff member knows where each other’s rooms are. Looking on the map, he realized that Firenze had stopped right in front of his. To his luck, however, Filch rounded the corner and the centaur galloped off in the other direction heading towards the entrance to the school, only he went down a different corridor and up a flight of stairs where he stopped and Harry assumed that was his room.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter Eight:

November soon passed into memory as well, and the month of December began with a freezing day of snow and a most fierce winter breeze. Harry decided to go early to the Great Hall feast on the third day of the month, and he soon found what a mistake it was indeed. Already seated were Professors McGonagall and Vector. Filch was surveying the perimeter as if he knew something were about to happen. Harry sat down and reached for some pumpkin juice when suddenly a loud, ear-splitting squeal was heard.

Harry looked around and came to realize that Professor McGonagall had disappeared into a smoke filled hall; spells were bouncing off the walls. Professor Vector remained where she was, but standing with her wand out yelling for the students to stop what they were doing at once.

Harry immediately sprung into the confusion and saw quite a few students hiding under the tables, or was fully exposed and partaking in the battle. Harry lifted his wand and the smoke seemed to blow away, and many soon realized that Harry was in the Great Hall, which they weren’t anticipating. He looked to his right and saw the Hufflepuff table in mere splinters; somebody had tried a Bombardment spell, something that isn’t taught at Hogwarts.

Joseph Abercrombie and Alex Brown appeared from a corridor on the far right side of the Great Hall and unleashed swirls of spells that pulsated a frightening amount of light. On the opposite end, Eric Bode waved his wand madly, as if he was frustrated, and then Harry saw that it was he who was testing the Bombardment spells.

Minerva tried to stop the attacks, but the Slytherins seemed not to care what she had to say. The Gryffindors felt the need to protect her, what with her being in the middle, so they enforced shielding charms on her, but the Slytherins appeared ready for the challenge. Harry aimed his wand at the ground, just a few spaces before hitting the Slytherin’s feet, and unleashed his own Bombardment spell which sank in the floor and completely destroyed their table. Fearing the students would get hurt, he unleashed a charm which stopped them from slipping under any damaged parts of the floor.

From behind Abercrombie and Brown appeared Hagrid and Hermione who easily disarmed them. Eric Bode was caught off guard by Nearly Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron and he fell to the ground in a daze. The other professors soon emerged from every corridor and hallway with their wands drawn. Whatever the students had planned, they had failed, and this particular assignment lasted just minutes. The main perpetrators were escorted out of the Great Hall while the masses, whether they had participated or not, were to be furiously lectured on the repercussions of what just happened. What was to result would be no visits to Hogsmeade, the turning in of wands to the Head of House every night, and an even stricter curfew.

Harry left the Great Hall in order to bear witness to what was going to happen to the main characters behind this whole mess. Joseph Abercrombie, Alex Brown, Eric Bode, Frederick Mulciber, Junior Baddock; a Slytherin sixth year, and Cecil Harper were brought into an unused classroom with Professors McGonagall, Hagrid, Hermione, Neville, and Trelawney who had wandered in on her own accord.

“Who wants to speak up first!?” bellowed Minerva in a rage, her eyes seemed to tear up.

“Professor,” Alex Brown said calmly, “we were just protecting ourselves.”

“Yes, of course,” Joseph admitted, “the Slytherins had this planned since the day we arrived this year.”

“That’s a lie!” yelled Mulciber, “We had this pla…” Eric Bode stomped on his foot.

“Professor,” he said, “it’s just that one thing led to another…and…”

“I think I know what happened,” interjected Harry. The student’s hearts were hammering incredibly fast, and their heads turned to Harry in hope. “It carried over from a mock battle we had the other day,” Harry explained what transpired, “so you see the tempers never died down.”

“I see,” said Minerva nearly about to start sobbing, “So this is your entire fault then, Potter?” Minerva squinted indignantly at him, while Hermione shook her head, not approving of what he was doing.

“I suppose one can place blame on me,” he couldn’t help but smile. “When pressures build there must be a place to exert it, and apparently there isn’t a place to release that at Hogwarts.” He looked to the students, “Unless you require it.” Joseph smirked back while the others were simply confused.

“If you’re willing to take blame for all this…” Minerva began.

“…I won’t’ take total blame,” he continued, “For I cannot control what another person can do.” He stepped swiftly to one said and eyed the Slytherins, a slither of happiness filled his mind.

“All the points from both Houses will be taken,” exclaimed Minerva, edging towards the door and disappearing down a corridor.

“She didn’t seem too happy,” Hermione commented.

Harry turned to her with an almost evil grin, blinked slowly, and immediately left the classroom leaving everyone wondering what was going through his head. Harry, once out of sight, started thinking the exact same thing though he soon lost his train of thought and arrived at the Headmistress’ office where Professor McGonagall sat at her desk with her back turned to anyone who should enter.

“P…Professor?”

“What is it Potter?” she sounded distraught.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Minerva turned and looked at Harry with a face filled with tears. “It's been difficult these last few years, what with my age…”

“…being the Headmistress?” Harry asked, and she nodded. “Perhaps…perhaps you do need this more.” He pulled out of his robe the Marauder’s Map and explained how to use it. “I think this will come in handy.”

Minerva wiped away tears and got up to hug Harry. “Thank you, Potter.” She smiled, “Now, why are you really here?”

“To use the pensieve again, I presume?” Dumbledore awoke again from his slumbering portrait. Harry nodded in approval.

“Don’t you think you let most of the students off lightly? Perhaps something else should be done?” asked Harry, “I saw Eric Bode…”

“Don’t worry, Potter,” Minerva had her back turned to him again, “I’ve sent a notice to Broderick, his father…Eric has been expelled.” She turned around, “we don’t tolerate use of forbidden magic by the students at this school, and if he has to be an example of that, then so be it. As for the others, well, I haven’t thought of another punishment, though I suspect a few will simply be pulled out by their parents or caretakers.”

“Professor,” Harry hesitated to say, “I prefer Bode be kept here.” Dumbledore seemed to be listening intently, “I would rather him be safe here than be unsafe towards himself or others outside.” He looked at Dumbledore who he hoped was thinking the same, “If he is a threat, then we can at least keep a better eye on him here.”

“Alright,” she sighed, “I’ll come up with a different punishment.” She pointed at the pensieve, “It’s all yours!”

Harry smiled to make her more cheerful, but she simply turned around again to contemplate matters on her own. Harry made his way to the cabinet where the pensieve was kept and knelt his head down so as to enter another memory. Before he can pull one out, Dumbledore spoke.

“Harry,” he said, “if you would be so kind as to reach into the storage area beside the cabinet and get out a vial…” Harry followed through and brought the vial to Dumbledore’s portrait. “Ah yes…”

Harry stared up at him, his half-moon spectacles sliding off his nose as he closed his eyes. “Professor, you wanted these?”

Dumbledore suddenly became alert again, “Sorry, Harry, I dozed off there for a second.” He looked down at the vial in Harry’s hand. “I kept this memory secret for some time, as I found it rather peculiar,” he noted. “It was one of my attempts at getting Horace to give up one of his memories, only he gave me this one…whether on purpose or accident I do not know.” He beamed at Harry, “Would you like to view it?”

“By all means, Albus,” Harry smirked at him. He walked back to the pensieve and emptied the contents of the vial into it, to which he bent over the almost liquid substance and he felt as though he were absorbed into it, and falling for some time. He suddenly found himself in, once again, Slughorn’s office, though he remembers it as though he were just there not too long ago.

“Professor Slughorn,” Regulus sat in a chair nearest Slughorn, reminiscent of when Tom Riddle did the same.

“What is it, m’boy!?” Slughorn peered over a box of candies at Regulus.

Regulus shifted in his seat, “You said you wanted to talk to me about…”

“…Horcruxes!” bellowed Slughorn, though he immediately found himself wondering why he had said it so loud, “Come back later, and I’ll give you all the information I know…”

There was white light again, and Harry remembered what Minerva had told him ‘mind over matter’. He emerged from the pensieve and looked over to Dumbledore. “All too familiar,” he said.

“I had a feeling you would say that, even though that was a brief memory. I also managed to retrieve another memory from Slughorn, but it got destroyed in that fire back in your seventh year or what should have been your seventh year.” Harry looked around and realized that some damage from that fire a few Death Eaters had set was still evident. “This one was also strange, for it had Horace looking up from, of all things, a closet, and he was tied up as if he were attacked.” Dumbledore scooted closer, but Harry couldn’t tell what he was doing, “The strangest part of all is that he was looking up at himself!”

Harry raised his eyebrows, “I know just the thing,” he told him about the previous memories in which Snape disguised as Slughorn using Polyjuice Potion tried to have a conversation with a young Regulus.

“I vividly remember that encounter,” said Dumbledore referring to when he met Snape in the bathroom. “That was the first of many visits, though, and he soon turned officially to the Order of the Phoenix’s side of the war.”

Minerva stood up, the Map clutched in her hands, “If you’ll excuse me, there is some more mischief brewing in the corridors of the sixth floor…” She took with her a candle and disappeared down a hallway.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, “I must confess, Regulus’ intentions at that point were genuine. He wanted to have a part in the defeat of Voldemort, or a full hand anyway, with no awards or extra little things afterwards.” Dumbledore stood up and paced around in his frame. “It was when his face was brutally mutilated that he began to regress into darkness.”

“Could it have been a meeting with Grindelwald that also changed his motives?” asked Harry.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said, “Grindelwald must have convinced him of something, and Regulus must’ve had a good enough reason to follow through.” Dumbledore’s pace stopped and he stared down at Harry, “You told me he made the prophecy before Sibyll, correct?” Harry nodded, “Intriguing,” Dumbledore added, “and you mentioned that Grindelwald allowed him to feel certain things, and he hesitated to tell Severus these things as well?” Once again Harry nodded, wondering where Albus was going with this. The former Headmaster came to a stop, sat down and smiled, “Of course,” he said, “Grindelwald convinced him to make a Horcrux in order to not only gain his trust, but to acquire certain abilities that come with that price.”

Harry stood, “Regulus did say he killed his mother, could he have made the Horcrux using her death?”

Dumbledore nodded again, “Excellent work, Harry. I’m afraid, however, that Regulus must have been killed as well in order to feel these things that the likes of Grindelwald and Voldemort feel.” Dumbledore seemed to stumble in his painting, “Perhaps, then, he instituted two Horcruxes, the second made later, maybe after the death of Travers. This entire ordeal was planned from the start, possibly even down to your very actions, Harry.”

Chapter Nine:

Harry was shocked that Dumbledore had gathered so much information and pieced it together. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask another quick question while the incidents were still in his head when he they heard a light rapping. Upon looking around, Harry found that Hedwig was tapping on the window with a note attached to one of her talons.

“Excuse me, Professor,” Harry said as he opened the window and allowed Hedwig to crawl onto his shoulder. He read out loud:

Harry,
The Aurors had set up a meeting to raid a house supposedly containing Death Eaters within a few hours ago. As you can imagine, a battle ensued but we managed to pull through. We did suffer a couple losses, but it’s the manner in which this was all done. I haven’t got a clue, but I have a feeling that one of our own is behind this mess. I’m sorry to tell you that Savage, Williamson, and three others have been killed. We were more humane and didn’t kill them. We currently have Crabbe, Rudolphus Lestrange, and Avery…the younger one of course…in our custody. What was even more curious is that a few non-death eaters, so to speak, were caught. They’re Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. I’ll send another letter shortly once I learn the trial date.

Until then,
Dean

“Your graduating class, Harry, has become quite exceptional!” Dumbledore beamed for a few moments before growing a more serious face. “You need to see this for yourself, though. I want you to hurry down to Hogsmeade and apparate to the Ministry where you’ll rendezvous with Dean. Explain to him what my intentions are and he’ll understand, hopefully.”

Harry didn’t wait for Dumbledore to repeat himself, or to ask anything, or to make things clear. He immediately ran for the door and began sprinting down the hall towards the gates. Suddenly, however, Hermione stepped out from a corner and they collided, sending both of them to floor in a muffled thud.

“Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed Hermione. “What in Dumbledore’s name are you doing?” She said rubbing her head and wincing.

“Sorry Hermione,” Harry held his knee and rocked back and forth, “I need to get to…HEY!”

Hermione had grabbed his note from Dean and had quickly skimmed it. “You know I’m going too, right? There’s no need to persuade me otherwise.” She stood up and helped Harry up. “Not exactly the gentlemen, are you?” Harry looked at her confusedly. “Never mind,” she said in aggravation.

They soon made it out of the castle and were on their way down towards the gated entrance. The crescent moon, though incomplete, illuminated the sky with all its brilliance. The snow-covered trees made groans in the night, and Harry got the odd feeling that they were being watched.

“I should’ve brought my invisibility cloak,” he said as Hermione opened and closed the gate.

“Afraid of the dark, are we?”

“No,” he said looking back towards the castle, “Course not!”

They soon reached the main thoroughfare of Hogsmeade. Madam Rosmerta was standing outside talking to a few drunkards that appeared to not really be listening and paying more attention to a mouse that was scurrying around on the ground. The town had certainly rebuilt itself after the Death Eater attack not too long ago, but some marks remained despite efforts to get rid of them. Cracks in the ground formed by Order members and Death Eaters alike didn’t go away over time, evidence of powerful magic at work.

“Alright,” Harry said, “Are you ready?”

“Ready?” an exhausted voice came from the side of a small shop. “Ready…for…what?” Most surprisingly to the two, Dawlish came out of a small alleyway holding his left arm and he seemed out of breath. The cold night air revealed his breath.

“No business of yours I’m afraid, Dawlish,” Harry smirked at him.

“I see,” Dawlish continued, “Moody has taught you well…just hate me why don’t you…” He took a seat on a step to catch his breath. “What are you two up to?” he eyed them with a strict amount of suspicion.

“Like Mr. Potter just said,” Hermione got in his face, “it is none of your concern.”

Dawlish pulled out his wand, “I’m afraid it is!”

“What do you plan on doing with that?” Harry asked loudly so others around would realize what was happening.

Dawlish took the hint and put it away. “All in time,” he winked and stood again, gripping his chest, still somewhat out of breath. “I was under the impression that you are to remain at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter, no venturing out!” Harry stood motionless and stared blankly. “You do remember what Dolores said, don’t you?”

Harry surged with anger and almost reached for his wand, but some sort of ease and calmness over came him, like lava meeting the sea. “Come on Hermione, back to Hogwarts.” He grabbed her by the arm and led the way back, Dawlish smiling as they left.

“Wait!” Hermione stole away from Harry and stepped back. “What is going on?” Dawlish had disappeared into the Hogshead.

“Nothing.” Harry said turning his back to her, “What was Dawlish doing here anyway?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Harry turned back around, “you read the letter. The Aurors had attacked that house,” Hermione still didn’t understand, “Dawlish is an Auror, Hermione.”

She took a sigh and seemed to understand what he was getting at, “He was out of breath,” she said, “it is rather curious, but I’m sure he was just getting away from the chaos to have a drink.”

“That makes some sense,” Harry said as they continued back towards the castle. “But what about the Ministry’s clean up team?” Then something hit Harry, as if a light bulb went off in his head, “Dawlish assumed the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.”

“And?” Hermione asked.

“Doesn’t it seem odd that he took the position while Umbridge proclaimed herself the Minister of Magic, or acting Minister?” Harry watched Hermione open the gate again and they let themselves in again. “Those two have claimed two of the highest levels of power in the wizarding world.”

Hermione spoke, “Harry, it does seem odd, I must admit, but it is starting to sound like a conspiracy theory.” They approached the Great Hall, “As harsh as this may sound, perhaps they are the best choices for those positions.”

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, that wasn’t something he wanted to hear but it must be the only reason. Moody seems to have emotional outbursts at times, and many other Aurors aren’t yet qualified for positions that hold a lot of responsibility.

“Right,” he finally said as they entered the Great Hall. He looked at the floor where he had done the bombardment spell and waved his wand over it. In an instant the floor repaired itself. The tables had already put themselves back together. “Why don’t we just get some sleep…”

Out from the rafters high above them, another owl came souring down and dropped a letter next to Hermione. Although it was addressed to Harry, she read it quickly. “Dean says the trial is to take place in two months!” she avoided Harry’s growing fury in his eyes. “I suppose it’s for the best not to rush things.”

“I guess we have some work to do over the winter break,” Harry kept his composure. “Gathering more information…”

“…we can’t, Harry, remember?” Hermione looked concerned. “Not to worry, though, I’ll do it. Whatever you ask of me…”


Feedback Thread

Chapter Ten:

December had all but past, and the winter break was soon almost over with. Many of the students had gone on vacation, and only those who had seriously broken the rules, or who simply couldn’t go themselves, stayed behind to be watched over by the staff.

On the second day of January, with just seven days remaining before school went back in session, Harry and Hermione decided to attempt to venture into the Forbidden Forest to see what exactly the pyramid that lay within was all about. However, the minute they decided to act on the thought, they were soon stopped by Professor McGonagall and Filch by sheer coincidence.

They had been walking down the corridor which led to an open veranda leading to the field bordering Hagrid’s hut. To their left was the rather tall Astronomy Tower, still holding all its tragic memories of Dumbledore’s death. They were about to step onto the snow covered grass when suddenly they heard a zapping noise from behind them. To their astonishment, Minerva had snuck up behind them and ignited something in mid-air, while holding the Marauder’s Map in plain view.

“Oh,” she sounded surprised, “hello Mr. Potter and Miss Granger!” She hid her wand and swatted at something buzzing around as Filch came jogging from a stair well. “What are you two up to?”

“We were just going to visit Hagrid,” Hermione lied quickly.

“I see,” she reviewed the map. “He is actually in the Owlery,” she looked up the beaten path towards the site. “Must be writing a letter.”

“Right,” Harry sighed, “its best not to interrupt him then,” he backed away from the snow, “I’m sure he’d appreciate some privacy.” Harry remembered in his fourth year when he overheard a conversation between Hagrid and Madam Maxime and how bad he felt afterwards. “If you’ll excuse us then.” Harry tugged on Hermione’s cloak and they rushed past the other two headed straight for Harry’s room.

Upon arrival, a rather disgruntled Hermione shouted, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Hermione,” he bellowed, “I’m sorry! But something seems rather strange…all these odd occurrences…”

“What?” she queried straightening her cloak, “Hagrid in the owlery? Honestly, Harry, that is rather mean for you to say something like that.”

“NO!” exclaimed Harry. “What they were doing! Killing bugs…”

Hermione took a seat on Harry’s bed and lit a fire, “I hope you’re not thinking that…”

“…Hogwarts is being spied upon?” Hermione shrugged at Harry’s interjection. “That would be my best assessment; it adds up, doesn’t it?” Before Hermione could say anything else, he stood and said, “I need you to go to the Ministry.”

“Excuse me?”

“Didn’t you say you’d do anything I ask of you? Remember?” Hermione’s eyebrows lifted as she was getting infuriated. Ignoring this, Harry continued, “I just need you to see what exactly is going on. In the past there have been speedy trials, I mean, even Regulus Black and Bellatrix Lestrange had fast trials, so why not a few lesser has been Death Eaters?” He looked at Hermione who now appeared at ease, “But I only want you to go straight to Dean.”

“But Harry…” she said at a loss of words.

“Hermione…you said you would do anything…”

She stood up and walked to the door where she paused, “Are you sure about this?” she asked with her back turned to Harry.

Harry suddenly felt a pang of guilt, though he wasn’t sure why. “Yes, we need some information…even if it’s from the worst possible place.” Without another word, Hermione opened the door and left at once. Within a few moments there was a light knock on the door. Harry bolted up and quickly answered but found someone else he wasn’t expecting. “Professor McGonagall, what brings you to my quarters?”

She handed Harry the map and closed the door. Her eyes remained on Harry as she placed her arm on his shoulder, brought him closer to her, then lifted her wand diagonally and brought it straight back down to her side. A blue illumination occurred which radiated from a line she had created in the air, spreading to the wall. Once it made contact, it spread like fog enshrouding the sea and soon dissipated.

“Now that we’re alone,” she finally spoke, “look at the map.” Harry slowly shifted his focus from her entertaining entrance to the Marauder’s Map where it displayed the few students who stayed behind for the break, a few professors mulling around in their studies or rooms, Filch exploring the fifth floor, and suddenly, like a pop up book, three names appeared that were just outside Harry’s room. “Do you know who they are?” she asked, to which Harry shook his head. “They’re spies, Harry. The Ministry has sent spies…bugged us.”

Harry knew that was going to be her answer but he didn’t want to believe it. “But, Minerva, you killed…”

“I froze them,” she smiled, “or rather; I singed their animagi bodies then stunned them.”

“This is interesting,” he commented. “But what can I do about it?” He whispered mischief managed and the map’s contents disappeared.

“I noticed Miss Granger leaving the school,” Minerva moved towards the door, “I tried to stop her...” She took a seat at Harry’s unused desk. “I’m afraid they already know what you’re up to, whatever that may be.”

“WHAT?” Harry screamed in a banshee like manner. He whipped out his wand and placed his hand on the door knob, which turned a bright red when he touched it.

“Harry,” Minerva stopped him, “they’re standing outside the door, and they’ll know you’ll be gone…”

“I don’t care.” He let go of the knob and bombarded the door with his wand, disintegrating it into a brown and black mist. The former animagi found themselves slumped on the floor next to the opposite wall. “Accio broom.” The nearest broom made its way to Harry and he hopped onto it. “Minerva, I’ll be back in a moment’s time.” He lifted off the ground at alarming rate; Hermione had suddenly become the prized Golden Snitch.

He soon found himself in Hogsmeade, where he fled from the broom and apparated to the Ministry’s Atrium. Once he arrived, he pushed through the unceremonious crowd of busy witches and wizards and headed for Dolores Umbridge’s office, the Acting Minister of Magic. However, once he reached the corridor, he met a blue robed, hooded wizard who, upon seeing Harry, pulled down his hood down to reveal himself to be Proudfoot.

“Mr. Potter, what a pleasant surprise,” he said nastily, “I’ll be sure to inform the Minister!” Several other blue robed wizards approached Harry from behind Proudfoot.

His heart racing, not caring for anything but his friend’s safety, he pulled out his wand and used a floating charm to throw Proudfoot to the ground rather violently. The other’s near him tried to hex Harry, but he was too quick for them and used the Protego shield charm on the attackers then disarmed each and every one of them. He slowly approached Proudfoot, his wand pointed at his heart. “Where is Hermione Granger?”

“Hermione Granger?” Proudfoot struggled to say. With his eyes suddenly opened wide, he said slowly and scripted, “Isn’t she at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”

Harry grabbed him by the robe and slammed him against the wall. “Don’t play games with me,” his wand was now pressing against Proudfoot’s head, “WHERE IS SHE?”

“HARRY!” yelled Dean rushing from his side and checking him, sending him to the floor. Proudfoot reached to the ground to pick up his wand, but Dean stunned him and he collapsed to the floor. Harry struggled back up, clutching his side in pain. “Sorry, Harry, but you were about to do something that you would have regretted later.”

Harry winced, “I suppose I should be thanking you!” His eyes dropped to Proudfoot and the others. “What does all this mean? Why are they all in blue?” Dean ushered Harry into the Auror Meeting Room, where he closed the door. Nobody was present, at least to their knowledge. Harry stared at Dean with a menacing look in his eyes. “Do you know where Hermione is?”

“She was just in the hall, surrounded by a group from the Magical Law Enforcement.” Harry attempted to go but Dean stopped him, “She is already gone.”

Harry remained still, “Go on.”

Dean sighed, “Harry, the Ministry has been doing random lock ups…sending people to Azkaban without reason or warrant.” Harry now had a pale white face; the shock would soon set in. “They take groups of people, anyone, and throw them in Azkaban, only to be released a few days or even months later.”

“And you haven’t done anything about it?” Harry’s temper sky rocketed, “You…you could have done something!”

“We are doing something,” exclaimed Dean, “The Order is trying to figure things out, just like you,” he was now whispering, “but it doesn’t help us if you leave Hogwarts…”

Suddenly Dolores Umbridge and several others bursted into the room, her face twisted in rage and an odd look of glee emerged. “Hello, Mr. Potter, do we not remember our agreement?” Before Harry could do anything, the other wizards present besides Dean pointed their wands at him ready for the attack. “I advise you not to reach for your wand…nor Apparate for the enchantments were just replaced…” She took a sigh of certain victory. “On second thought, go ahead and apparate…get yourself splinched!”

“Where is…”

“Granger?” Coughed Dolores, “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about her. She’s being taken care of. As for you, I strongly advise you to not leave Hogwarts unless you want something happen to your other friends.” Her eyes landed on Dean, who now looked quite taken aback.

Harry’s eyes were blood shot and his rage had hit its peak, “I’ll leave, sure, and not come back…only on one condition…”

“NO CONDITIONS!” she squealed, “Either leave or more of your friend’s will be taken to Azkaban! We’re ready to take the youngest Weasley…it all depends on your next move.” She turned on her heals and stomped down the corridor, her echoing hooves slowly diminishing.

Harry fell to his knees in anger and extreme agony, and he hadn’t realized he had started crying until Dean helped him back to his feet. “Whatever you’re doing, Dean, I hope its working.” Harry left the Ministry at once, ready to make his move.

Questions? Comments?

Chapter Eleven:

Knowing that the anti-apparition enchantments were supposedly put in place on the Ministry, Harry dashed out into the open and free wizarding world and decided to check out the pyramid in a certain location to another by simply walking through them. In this case, there was one large one in front of the entrance to the Ministry building which would take someone straight into the London Underground, in the heart of the wizarding world, or rather, where Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley meet. Once he arrived, he found to his displeasure that the streets were completely deserted, not a single person was walking about, even a goblin was not to be seen going about its daily business at Gringotts.

Harry knew better, however, that a few witches and wizards such as Umbridge and Dawlish couldn’t have had their way with thousands of people. He peered down the alley ways and noticed faint lights on in each shop and place of business. They weren’t all missing, they were hiding in fear. Whoever chose to step through the barrier from the Ministry could arrest a person on the spot for no reason. Instead of having to deal with that nuisance, since it could become rather dangerous, they chose to stay out of harms way and Harry hoped it was working.

In an instant he was gone and reappeared in a lively Hogsmeade where he found the broom he had left to be missing. Without attempting to command another to come to him, he decided to journey straight to the school in a massive fit of rage, his blood surging at a rampant rate. Once inside the school he stormed to his room to gather his senses, he had to go to Azkaban to rescue Hermione no matter what consequences there were.

“Hiya Harry!” Neville joined the enraged Harry in his room. Once he realized that something was the matter, he said, “Harry, can I help you with anything?”

“No,” he said quickly as he stashed his invisibility cloak into a side pack he had bought some time ago. Just then, he remembered that it would be wise to have Neville, or anyone for that matter, to join him in case anything should happen. “Neville, would you like to accompany me?” he said calmly yet urgently.

Neville was rather concerned, “Where to?”

“On a rescue mission…”

“…Oh, another rescue mission!” Neville backed away and tripped over his own robes, landing on his backside. “Not that I don’t want to go…its just that last time…”

“Neville,” Harry helped him up, “they have Hermione.”

“Hermione? Who has Hermione?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Harry answered at once, “the Ministry has been up to something…” He walked past Neville and picked up the door handle and squeezed it to leave his imprint. Once he saw that he had done this, he dropped it and brushed it off as if it was just his imagination. “Look, do I really need to explain myself? I’ll tell you later…a friend is in danger…”

“Of course,” Neville said raising his hands, “you’re right.” He brought forth his wand, “Lead the way.”

Just as Harry and Neville began to set off towards the open fields and then to the Forbidden Forest, a flash of purple light flew past them and became a pink mist before their eyes. From a corridor in the school, two wizards had emerged and began attempting to hex them. They shot another, and this time it hit the ground, throwing clumps of soil and rock into the air.

Neville pointed his wand, an incantation flew out, to which one of the wizards went flying backwards onto a stair case where he lay unconscious. The other wizard tried to revive him but to no avail while several others encroached upon them from the other corridors and directions. Harry and Neville were outnumbered vastly, and it seemed as though they had managed to take down the other staff members. But something struck a cord in Harry as he thought of the students, could they be hurt? He immediately lurched towards the crowd of wizards, while Neville stared in awe. However, once he got close enough to reach out and touch one, they disappeared in an instant.

Minerva came charging down a hallway, trailing a blue hue of light which lit the air at certain intervals. Harry later learned that those lights appeared when the charm made contact with the animagi spies. “What in Dumbledore’s name just happened?”

“We were attacked,” Neville said vaguely, “but they disappeared!”

“Neville,” Harry stated, “they were animagi sent here to spy on us.”

“I’ll inform you of the situation later, Mr. Longbottom,” Minerva told. “Did you happen to see exactly who these people were? The other two that you stunned earlier managed to get away before a proper identification was made.”

“I’m sorry professor…”

“Oh dear,” Minerva said leaving them promptly. Harry decided to follow, leaving Neville behind in a state of confusion. He followed her to the pathway leading to the entrance to Hogwarts where a group of witches and wizards were slowly making their way up the path. Harry stopped at the large entrance door as Minerva pressed on by herself. Once she came to a certain point, Harry could finally see what the concern was. “If you would kindly hand her over…”

“…Of course, my precious Minerva,” Dawlish balked and thrusted Hermione into Minerva’s arms. She looked rather confused and shocked, but fine and in great shape nonetheless. “Let this be a reminder.”

“A reminder about what?” Minerva spat back as she gingerly assisted Hermione.

“That Potter stay at school, the Minister doesn’t want him around.”

“I see,” she said, “and I suppose you think he is just going to stand around while all his friends are being hauled away?”

Dawlish shifted, Minerva had said something that didn’t please him. “His friend’s are fine as long as he stays here…”

“…and why is that?” She yelled. “He is the best Auror the Ministry has, I’m sure he would be an asset in your relentless pursuit of Grindelwald.” She turned to leave them standing in terror about her knowledge, “And what about Draco Malfoy?”

“What about him?” Dawlish called back, “I hear that he’s Grindelwald’s favorite! He’s chosen him for a special task, mind you.”

Harry caught up with them and helped Hermione back towards the castle. “And how would you know all this, Dawlish? Frankly, I’m concerned that your lot has something to do with this Grindelwald.”

Dawlish suddenly turned bright red and looked around at his little cronies. He then marched straight to Minerva who didn’t move a step. “That’s nonsense,” he growled low. Turning back around he bellowed, “We’re leaving!” They made haste to the gate and were soon out of sight, quite possibly sent to Hogsmeade to keep tabs on Harry.

“Hermione,” Harry pleaded, “what happened?”

Minerva rejoined them at the door and helped push it open. They led her to the Great Hall, all the while she stared blankly up at the ceiling, her eyes unmoving and he lips sealed.

“Hermione,” Harry asked again, “do…do you know where you are?”

Suddenly she spoke, quite a relief to the others, but it was short lived. “I…,” she looked from Harry to Minerva, “…I…I’ll be in my room.” She swiftly got up from the table and walked out of the Great Hall.

“I hope it’s not what I think it is,” Minerva said bringing a hand to her mouth.

“What is it?” Harry prodded for more answers.

“I wish not to worry you anymore,” she said, “I’ll let you repair your door, get some sleep, and we shall talk with Miss Granger about the matter tomorrow.” At that she snatched the Marauder’s Map from Harry once again and scuttled off to her office.

Chapter Twelve:

“Hermione,” Harry awoke the next morning and immediately made his way to Miss Granger’s room, “do you want to talk about what happened?”

Hermione was startled and she reached for her blanket to cover herself up despite still wearing the same clothing from the previous day. “Talk about what?” she scorned. “How you treated me?”

“What do you mean?” Harry spoke softly. “How did I treat you?”

“You…you sent me to the Ministry…” she sat up in her bed and looked around, “and then I…Dawlish had me…then…then I saw Minerva…”

“…what about Azkaban? Do you remember anything that happened there?”

“Azkaban!?” Hermione shout bewilderedly, “Merlin’s Beard, Harry, why would I be there?” She pushed the covers off her and walked to her mirror where she stared at herself, “but I don’t remember anything…just seeing Dawlish and I was suddenly at the Hogwarts gate…”

“Sounds like a memory charm,” Harry inferred, “Dawlish must have erased your memory of that place. Dean said they would take people away and bring them back a few days or months later, but he never mentioned them not remembering anything.”

“A memory charm I can believe,” she said, “because I would have remembered a place like that!” She moved away from the mirror and she ventured down the hallway upon exiting her room, Harry following. “Why would he send me there in the first place,” she continued as they approached the Great Hall for breakfast, “and then get rid of any such thought of that horrible place.”

They heard footsteps coming from behind them, and they immediately whipped around to find Dean of all people tagging along. He had on tattered robes, appearing as if he had just been through a battle. In either hand he was carrying a pack of some sort.

“Harry, Hermione…”

“Yes?” Hermione crossed her arms and began to tap her right foot impatiently.

“Err…sorry,” Dean seemed like he was negotiating with himself, “They changed the trial to the last day of this month.” He held up his packs, “you’ll find everything you need in these.” They each reached for the packs and began to shuffle through them. “I just need to talk to Hagrid…if you’ll excuse me.” Dean’s cloak billowed in the cold morning air as he walked away from them.

Harry pulled out a vial with red hair strands in it, as well as a change of robes. Hermione, likewise, had a few strands of purple hair in hers and a brand new cloak. “What are these?” she asked handing them over to Harry as she pulled out the final bottle with a putrid smell. “One can only guess what this is.”

“Polyjuice Potion,” smiled Harry, “when the trial is set, Dean wants us to go there disguised!”

“That’s one step in the right direction,” Hermione commented, “but there’s one more part of the puzzle…how do we get there?” She retraced her footsteps back towards her room.

“Wait,” Harry called after her, “I have an idea.” He looked around to make sure nobody was looking, and whispered a name. Suddenly, out of thin air appeared Dobby the Houself, who bowed low and smiled widely at Harry. “Hello Dobby, how’re you?”

“Mr. Potter, sir!” he squealed as Hermione came to Harry’s side, “I am doing fine sir, what can I do for you?”

Harry answered, “Do you know of a secret way out of Hogwarts that will get us further than Hogsmeade? The Marauder’s…” he stopped short of revealing the map to Dobby.

“Further than the wizard town?” Dobby said in a cracked voice, “What about through the fire?”

“No,” Hermione winked at him, “the Ministry could be watching it, and I’m sure they would question anyone coming from Hogwarts no matter what they look like.”

“Of course, please excuse Dobby,” the houself’s ears sank, “I’m sorry…” He looked at Harry for reassurance, “not to worry, I know about another way out! The seventh floor boy’s bathroom!”

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of amusement, “The seventh floor boy’s bathroom?” Harry asked, “Are you certain?”

“Yes, yes,” exclaimed Dobby, “get into the bowl of the furthest toilet and push the lever and you’re whooshed away to a most traumatic sight.”

“Sounds easy enough,” proclaimed Hermione, “I suppose we should at least practice it before we…”

“…Alas,” Dobby bowed low again, “a human can only use it once in their lives! To return, go back to the sight and read the inscription left behind.”

**
In time, the final day of the month came upon itself. Harry and Hermione gathered in the seventh floor’s boy’s bathroom and prepared their Polyjuice Potion cocktails. Harry submitted his red hair as Hermione did the same with her purple, and they slowly transformed into new people, though they were amazed by who they had become.

“Harry, you’re the spitting image of Charlie Weasley!”

Harry checked himself out in the mirror, “and you don’t look too bad yourself as Tonks!” he smiled. “Now, about that toilet…” he approached the furthest one from the door, opened the stall, and looked it over. “I certainly hope there is nothing in it.” Without looking he took a step into the bowl not appearing too sure about what he was about to attempt, “wish me luck,” he reached for the lever and pulled it. The water quickly drained and he was suddenly painfully squeezed from Hogwarts and flung here and there, seemingly bouncing off of nothingness and getting smacked in the face by the same thing. However, as long as it seemed, only a minute or so had passed before he found himself in the water of the Fountain of Magical Brethren, “a most traumatic sight,” he commented on how the wizard seemed to be the leader of all the others. Hermione suddenly appeared next to him, and upon looking around, giggled about what Dobby had said.

“Shall we?” she said leading the way out of the fountain, everybody seemed to be elsewhere.

Harry followed, and they made haste to the Wizengamot, where Dawlish remained the head. Before them, in the center and surrounded by officials and witnesses, were Rudolphus Lestrange, Crabbe, Avery, and four other young Death Eaters, along with Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. There was quite a stir among the crowd, many throwing their arms up in the air demanding that they all be sentenced to life terms in Azkaban, or death, and in Lestrange’s case, the Dementor’s Kiss. Dean avoided greeting them for fear of them being found out, but he indeed wanted justice for his father’s death as well. Harry and Hermione took their seats in the back row as Dawlish slammed his mallet ready for the proceedings.

“Very good,” Dawlish said from behind a piece of paper. “This goes to the Death Eaters first,” he lowered the paper and eyed each of them, “what do you have to say about your charges of murder, vandalism, torture, and countless other charges brought against you over the years and recently?” Not one of them spoke, “very well,” Dawlish balked after a minute of silence, “don’t say a word, it will only incriminate you even more.” The crowd stirred, one witch in front of Harry yelled for the truth to come out. “Now, how about this Grindelwald? Do you lot know anything about them?” Still, no response, though it appeared Crabbe was struggling to say something but his mouth was sealed shut. Dawlish slammed the mallet once more and stated, “I hereby grant Lestrange, Crabbe…” his voice trailed off as he read the names, “and Avery life imprisonment in Azkaban fortress…dementors, take them away!” The Dementors briskly glided out from one of the exits and grabbed the fearful Death Eaters, hauling them away to a certain doom.

“What about you two,” Dawlish now had his full attention on Zabini and Nott, “what do you have to say for yourselves?”

Zabini scoffed him and closed his eyes to await his punishment, however, Nott spoke, but what he said didn’t sit well with everyone else. “We’ve been working for Grindelwald!” he said looking around and avoiding Dawlish’s glare, “he’s made us do things we wouldn’t have done otherwise.”

“I highly doubt it,” Dawlish laughed with the other Wizengamot members. “Grindelwald huh? Didn’t Dumbledore himself defeat him many years ago?” He seemed to shudder at the name.

“You’ve got to believe me,” Nott stressed, “He’ll bring an end to everything! We tried to get away, but somebody within the Ministry forced an attack on us…”

The spectators began to argue amongst themselves, while others stared intently at Nott. Zabini seemed shaken from what he was saying. “You do realize how preposterous you sound? All these fantasies of yours? Nevertheless,” Dawlish straightened some papers nearby, “Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini are sentenced to fifty years in Azkaban.” On cue, the dementors swooped in and took them away; all the while Nott was trying to tell everyone that what he was saying was the truth, though everyone simply laughed at him nonetheless. “Now, Alastor Moody wishes to address everyone present.”

Moody made his way to the center, where he commanded respect and silence. He looked straight at the disguised Harry and Hermione before turning his back to him. “I am announcing my retirement from the Ministry, in which I’ve held the position of Head of the Auror Department.” He turned back around and his magical eye remained on Harry. “This has been quite an exciting job, which is precisely the reason I must leave…too much excitement is not exactly what I find ideal for me at this stage in my life.” With his other eye, he would take a long hard look at those willing to look at him, “I recommend one Harry Potter to be the next in line as the Head of the Auror Department…”

“…Oh, I don’t know about that,” Dawlish chuckled along with Umbridge to his left. “Your resignation is accepted, however, your services will be honored in time, I’m sure,” Dawlish nodded his head towards the door, and Moody knew exactly what he meant. Without further ado, he shuffled to the door and left at once. “Proudfoot, would you please come before us?” Proudfoot, dressed in his blue robes, knelt before the Wizengamot. “I hereby assign Proudfoot as Head of the Auror Department! May your time in that position serve you and the free witches and wizards well.”

“Thank you,” Proudfoot stood and bowed, “much appreciated…much appreciated,” he backed away and took his seat again near the front until he realized that he belongs where the Wizengamot sit, to which he bolted up and found a seat near the rear.

Suddenly there was an explosion of applause. In the uproar, Harry grabbed Hermione and they swiftly made it out of the mess of corruption. She soon sped ahead of him and arrived at the Fountain of Magical Brethren first to read the inscription. As soon as she did, she instantly disappeared from the scene. Harry did the same. He took a step into the water, rounded the statues, and knelt so he could read the inscription, ‘Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus’. As he did this, he heard someone comment, “What is Ron Weasley’s brother doing in the fountain?” To which another added, “no idea, I thought there were all hauled off to Azkaban last night.”

Harry arrived to find Hermione already changed back to her normal self, and to explain to her what he had just overheard.

Thanks for reading! Questions, comments?

Chapter Thirteen:

They had received word from Arthur Weasley that the whole family had been placed in Azkaban at the end of December, except for himself, Molly, and Ginny. He couldn’t contact anyone outside of the Ministry for fear of himself and Mrs. Weasley being placed in there as well. Ginny, in fact, had indeed been targeted but managed to escape to Grimmauld Place where she remained for some time before coming out of hiding and working underground with the Order. Dean had commented once that they were helping in the push against this unseen terror that was brewing. They knew, just like everyone else, that the Ministry was up to something and it was about to manifest into something most terrible.

The school year began to draw to a close. The winter that had engulfed them in cold snow and winds had all but disappeared, leaving no trace whatsoever of its presence. Spring found itself in full bloom as the month of May found the students preparing for their end of year exams. With wonderful weather, there was constant Defense Against the Dark Arts training outside with Professor Potter. The sixth years had excelled exceptionally, as he laid most of the hope of the future on them. If they so chose, the seventh years could request training sessions from him, but he decided to leave the Gryffindors and Slytherins to the books after what happened in December.

Throughout the intervening time, Harry and Hermione had constantly written lengthy and questioning letters to Dean. They were pressing for more information concerning anything they could possibly get. As much as they had faith in him, he almost never delivered. He had just as much knowledge about the situation as they did, though they didn’t buy it. It came to a point where Dean had to come to Hogwarts and explain to them that all he was concerned about was finding a way to get the innocents out of Azkaban and making a strategic attack on the Ministry’s officials.

Then, suddenly, in the beginning of April, Dean wasn’t heard from again. All the letters they sent to him were brought back to him, relentlessly ripped open and nearly ripped to shreds and placed in new envelopes. He, himself, must have been sent to Azkaban, only his involvement with Harry would be detrimental to his release, much like the Weasleys’ and potentially anyone else he has met or had contact with.

They decided to pay Hagrid a visit, for he seemed to have had something up his sleeve with Dean that nobody knew about. However, upon questioning, Hagrid kept his mouth shut despite pleading and certain tempers flaring.

Finding no new information, and feeling helpless about doing anything, they began to abandon the situation and focus more on the students. However, even that was too late for graduation was the following day. The seventh years would venture out into the world, whether ready or not, and have to take it on. However, a few students had already been pulled and either didn’t show up after winter break or were taken a few weeks into the next term. Frederick Mulciber, for example, was snatched out by his mother proclaiming that she didn’t want her son taught by a man who had a part in putting her husband in prison.

Because of the growing tension in the Wizarding world, the graduation took place in the Great Hall. In previous years, it had taken place around the Black Lake, and, later, around Dumbledore’s tomb which seemed to humble students even if they didn’t know him personally. Once the seventh years had officially become graduates, and after a rather quick speech by Minerva, they all went their separate ways, but still, a few decided to stay behind to have a few words with Harry.

“Professor Potter,” Joseph Abercrombie approached him with a wide smile, “or should I say Harry? I just want you to know that I’ll be joining the Aurors just to work with you!”

“Same here,” exclaimed Henry Fletcher with Alex Brown nodding his head in approval.

Harry took a seat and brushed his hand through his hair. “You’re making a mistake,” he said much to their dismay.

“What?” questioned Tiberius Robards listening in, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t mean anything against you gentlemen,” Harry smiled, “in fact, I’m sure you’ll all make great Aurors! I just don’t think the current magical government is worthy of your services.”

“I don’t understand,” Abercrombie sounded disheartened.

“I know exactly what he means,” Robards defended him, “they’ve been taking people to prison...they’ve done things that would shame even Fudge!”

“Pardon the interruption,” interjected Hermione from behind the new wizards, “but may I have a word with Mr. Potter alone?”

“Of course, Miss Granger!” Brown fled the scene, “Be sure to contact us when you think its best to join the Aurors, Harry!”

“Now what am I going to do?” wondered Abercrombie as he stalked away, “Go work in Hogsmeade?”

“Harry,” Hermione said once they were alone in the Great Hall, “I’m going to help in the underground with Ginny and the others.”

“Sounds great,” commented Harry, “I’ll have to catch up with you later though.”

“What?” she asked taken aback, “what are you going to do?”

“I’ll just need a day or so,” Harry answered, “to just, well, sort out my priorities.”

“You’re up to something,” she said with a grin, “whatever it is; I hope it’s worth it with your friends in prison and the world coming to shambles.” Neville had made his way to them after having gathered his possessions from his room.

Harry sighed, “Well, when you put it that way…”

“…Harry, I was joking. I’m sure its something important.” She conjured her things which found their way into a side bag of hers, “we’re based out of Grimmauld Place of course so you’ll know where to find us.”

“Right,” said Harry standing to send them on their way. “Two days tops!” he yelled as they disappeared down the pathway to the gate, where they would then apparate away into the clear, blue skied day. ‘Time to explore that pyramid,’ he thought as he pulled out his wand and trekked across the field to the tree line.

Chapter Fourteen:

Harry stared into the dark oblivion that was the Forbidden Forest. He wasn’t quite sure whether he should be doing this alone, what with some sort of ominous force persuading him, telling him in his head that he should continue on. He held his wand tight in his sweaty hand, he knew above all else that at some point he would need it. The forest had grown dangerous these last few years with rumors of Death Eaters lurking about, raging beasts of all kinds terrorizing whatever they could, among others things. Despite all these, they were never seen outside of the forest, or even near Hogwarts.

He took his first step in the thick vegetation and was immediately swallowed into the thick of it. Looking back, he could not tell if he had gone a step into the forest, or several thousand. Though it was two past noon, the light from the sun barely streaked in and out of the tree canopy above him. Not exactly fearing for his life, but concerned nonetheless, he used the lumos charm to proceed. He remembered seeing the mysterious pyramid from the Astronomy Tower, it was indeed closer than he thought, but he simply didn’t care for it at the time. However, now he felt a sudden urge to discover what lay within, as if it were calling to him.

After a few hundred steps he came across a clearing, though the trees were still outstretched enough to block a significant amount of light. He decided to take a breather for he seemed overwhelmed with anxiety, and sat on a stump whose tree must have been taken by Grawp. Suddenly, he heard a twig snap in the distance and pointed his wand to it. Then another, and another, as if something was running away from him. Whatever it was, he thought nothing of it after that, probably just some deer or something.

He stood up and stretched, closing his eyes to look at a dazzling display of fireflies through the forest in the direction he came from. However, they seemed to form an entity’s outline all together, a short and squat being, but as soon as the wind picked up, the formation split and they were off on their own. He looked towards the pyramid and realized that a heavy fog had set in. Whispering a spell had no affect, though he had high hopes for it since it worked on steam. He brightened his light charm and pressed on through the clearing and back into the dense treed forest.

Once he knew he was close to the pyramid he stopped to gather himself and sort out his plan of action. What was most curious to him was that he hadn’t encountered any sort of life on the way to the structure. Usually there was something visible trailing him, such as a centaur, or a being caught up with him and managed to dissuade him away from going farther. Figuring that the best course of action was to simply go into the pyramid, he brought his wand to his side and approached the entrance.

The pyramid from a distance looked enormous, jutting out through the tall foliage and trees and reaching for the sky. However, up close, it appeared to be a rather small and broken down building, though impressive enough to wonder who built it. The entrance was already open, the walls leading to an underground room were lit with torches that could not be blown out by the wind. There weren’t any building blocks, it looked like a pristine structure that formed over the course of several million years due to erosion.

His first step landed in a puddle of water that echoed down the hall for ages, which seemed to remain in place without spilling. He waited for someone to call after him, or even attack, but nothing came. Pressing on again, he found that there wasn’t a stair case, but it was a ramp of sorts, it must have been manufactured for the mere fact that it was smooth as it could possibly have been. The ramp sliced into the pyramid such that it would take Harry five minutes to walk it the full way down into the structure, which of course he did.

Once he got to the base, he found himself in a giant hall whose only source of light was a pan like object emitting fire on the ceiling. Below that, in the center of the hall, was a dial made of stone whose shadow flickered about in the light from the fire. There also seemed to be something floating above it, in a light blue and white light, the same element used in pensieves. He approached it, his curiosity building as he soon realized that the stone itself had a red tint to it, almost like ruby.

He reached for it and snatched it from the light and held it firmly in his hand. He had felt something like this before, a very long time ago in fact. He searched his thoughts while he looked around the cavern-like hall, thinking that the place was rather bland, until it suddenly stuck him. He opened his clenched hand and the shocking reality hit him like a punch to the face. The philosopher’s stone! ‘But how did it get here,’ he thought, ‘didn’t Dumbledore say it was destroyed?’

He moved his feet and it came to his knowledge that he was standing on some sort of stone mound. He jumped to the side, his eye on the stone mound. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he read a name on it, Harry brushed his hand over the inscription just to be certain that it was true. The name Barty Crouch Jr. was etched upon it, and the one next had inscribed upon it the name Regulus Black, but the mounds were much too small to house a body. He moved to the next one, four in total, and read the name off of that one: ‘Rufus Scrimgeour.’ He began to breath deep as he wondered above all else as to why these names were here, each had their soul taken away by the dementors. ‘Is that what is in the mounds?’ he thought, ‘Regulus’ soul was consumed though.’

“Who could the next one be?” he said out loud as he shuffled on the ground, the suspense within him growing. However, once he read the inscription, he sat squat on the ground with a blank expression on his face, he had never felt so empty in his life. The etched name read: ‘Harry Potter.’

“My soul hasn’t been taken,” he said to himself as he touched his face and body to make sure. He outstretched his hand holding the Philosopher’s Stone, pointed his wand at it, and whispered a small bombardment spell which broke it into several pieces, which later dissolved away. The light emitting from the dial died away and ceased to be; as if a light wind had blown it out. Silver wisps of the element drifted towards the ceiling and disappeared once they neared the flames of the fire over head.

Suddenly there was a soft echo, someone had splashed about in the puddle at the entrance to the pyramid. He slowly brought his wand up to eye level and aimed it up the shaft, but the torches flickered off at once, all except for the ones within the hall. Another step was heard as someone entered and began their descent upon Harry.

Questions? Comments

Chapter Fifteen:


“Who are you!?” demanded Harry as the being came closer from the ramp. “What do you want?”

“You know very well who I am,” a squeaky, pathetic yet dark voice answered. It had some sort of Eastern European accent to it but it seems fake and strained. “After all, I know who you are…”

Harry’s heart was racing; he had never felt this unsure about what was to happen in his life. “Why don’t you show yourself?”

The voice came closer and Harry knew for sure that he was within the hall, “You know exactly who I am.”

“I cannot know for sure unless you identify yourself…”

“…Mr. Potter, you can’t honestly not know who I am. I am the one that dwells without…the one that arose from the water to seek revenge,” the being paused to let that set in, “…I am Grindelwald.” Once he mentioned his name, the torches seemed to turn back on. Grindelwald stood before him in all his dignity. He was a short little man, with what seemed like a green tint to his skin. His face was hidden behind an old monk’s robe being held to his body by rope. His hands were clammy and greasy; his feet were wrapped in burlap and pointed on the ends.

“You’re not really what I was expecting,” Harry admitted, “I was expecting you to be taller.”

Grindelwald coughed and spat. “Fool of a wizard,” he declared, “you have no idea what my magic holds. I have out lived Dumbledore, and even the great Voldemort. I am the supreme wizard, the one that will ultimately bring an end to the wizarding world, and the Muggle.” He lifted his hand and pointed his stubby fingers to the center dial, with the four mounds surrounding it. “I was supposed to snatch yours and Mr. Black’s soul along with the others, but unfortunately neither took place…as things turn out I’ll have to do it myself.” He moved a little closer, “No matter, though, three is fine for the time being, but four will be needed which is why I must sacrifice myself.” He emphasized the center dial again, “that is used for spreading dementor magic…”

“…dementor magic?” Harry still had his wand pointed at Grindelwald. “What do you mean?”

“Using four souls,” Grindelwald explained, “for four cardinal directions. A pyramid with four points for the likewise assessment, with a central point to help push things along. There will be chaos and depression forever!”

Harry didn’t quite understand at first, but pushed the issue aside. “What do those souls have to do with anything…and mine? Why not just take any soul?”

“That’s like asking Voldemort why didn’t he use anybody’s blood to bring him back,” he cackled. “These souls are necessary for the purpose they serve, I cannot explain these things to you since it was not I…well; let’s just say it was prophesized…” Grindelwald raised his wand, it looked rather familiar to Harry almost as if he had seen it sometime before. He stared into it, as if it had suddenly taken his attention away from everything. A gold ball of magic erupted from it, issuing a liquid light, which blasted Harry in the chest sending him to the ground with a tingling sensation.

Almost instinctively, he wielded his wand and shot a hex at Grindelwald from the ground, which struck the dark lord and sent him flopping to the ground, where he remained for the time being.

“Do you not know why it is that Voldemort rose to power as I lay in hiding?” his voice was odd, as if he had two sets of vocal cords. “After my initial defeat by Dumbledore, something I wish not divulge to you, I arose from the waters a changed entity. My Horcrux had saved me from death, but I was a useless being. I could not do anything as I passed over the earth; it was as if I had become a ghost. I knew that I had to find my Horcrux, but after having talked with young Tom Riddle on the matter some years ago, I came to realize that he had stolen it. If I wanted a body back, any body, I had to find it.

“Thus I went in search,” Grindelwald said as he stood once again, “but Riddle, now known as Voldemort, had disappeared. The very person I had instructed and took under my wing, if only for a brief amount of time, had seemingly betrayed me. I traveled as far as Norway, hot on the pursuit of Voldemort as he learned many other dark magic and techniques, and in time I finally received word that he was among other dark wizards, witches, and other beings, if you will, in Romania. Though once I reached the land, Voldemort had gone off into the night once again. It seemed he was always one step ahead of me.

“Ten years had passed since losing him in that country. I managed to charm one Lysandra Yaxley, think of me being the equivalent of Voldemort attached to Quirrel.” Harry cringed at the thought of what that must have looked like. “I contacted Voldemort who had come out of hiding and was preparing for something, an extermination of sorts. I made Lysandra ask him where my Horcrux was, which surprised him of course seeing as how nobody was supposed to know about the subject. Instead of sacrificing her life, I revealed myself to him and he was all the more willing to give me the answer. As it turned out, the great Voldemort had misplaced it. I pleaded with him to think about what he was doing, showing my state of life after having used Horcruxes, but Voldemort proclaimed he was on his way to seven, so there was no need to worry.

“Once I was gone, very disappointed mind you, Lysandra was ordered to be killed for the information she possessed; whether she knew about it or not, this pains me to this day that she was killed for something I did.” Harry wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this, Grindelwald appeared to be less of an evil than Voldemort was, enough to convince him to lower his wand to allow him to continue his story. “That same year, I completed my lair, the one your lot ransacked, just below a windmill in a now abandoned town. I was constantly taking people out of that town to harvest them for my own life, any means necessary to remain alive I took. In fact, a wizard was hot on my trail; I believe his name was Benjy Fenwick. To remain in hiding, I did what was necessary.”

Harry lifted his wand again, he remembered hearing about Mr. Fenwick, “You blew him up,” he said in a menacing way, ready to seek revenge for his death.

“Indeed, I hear they only found bits and pieces of him.” Ignoring Harry’s disgust and maintaining a blank expression, he continued, “Many years later, I managed to create this body you see before you. Those bodies from the town contributed to the cause, and I will be forever indebted to them; and with the help of that stone many years later. In this form, I began to seek out followers to bring about the downfall of both Voldemort and Dumbledore. All this time, I only got one, a very trust worthy and devoted individual.”

“Regulus,” breathed Harry.

“Correct,” Grindelwald added, “I convinced him to make a Horcrux, only he didn’t want to kill. It took a certain incident to provide this death that is required to make a Horcrux; that death being his very mother, Walburga. He killed her out of a strange circumstance and I convinced him yet again that it was for a just cause…to know what it truly feels like to be dead. He wanted to bring about the downfall of Voldemort, and I wanted his powers, and our mission manifested into stealing his soul. However, this was proved impossible.

“After his mother’s death, and the creation of the first Horcrux, I killed Regulus with his permission and he survived by that Horcrux, only he didn’t look as I do, he looked as if he hadn’t died. Once again, I convinced him to create another Horcrux with another death. This took some time, but he killed a lowly Death Eater and was forced to use it once you got to him!” Grindelwald sat onto the ground in a criss-crossed fashion. “A year after the mother’s death, Rufus Scrimgeour decides to join our forces, he was willing and happy to help right away, but I told him to play it safe and help us figure out a way to get Voldemort’s soul, or something like it. It was a matter of a few weeks after that interview that he came to us with his plan, a plan that would essentially sacrifice him for our common cause.

“Only…just only…if it worked out that way. As it turned out, Regulus betrayed me and he gained all of the powers and dark magic. And,” he quickly stood, “you of course know that rest.” He brought forth his wand and pointed it at Harry, saying the first half of the killing curse. However, the entirety was never heard within the pyramid as Harry blasted a disarming spell, knocking Grindelwald off his feet and slamming into the side of the pyramid.

Chapter Sixteen:

Grindelwald attempted to stand up again, ready to protect his domain, when he slumped to the ground again clutching his head. Harry, still with his wand drawn on him, began to approach him, his eyes lighting up the closer he got as if he had a certain aura to him. The dark lord struggled to move and once he realized he could no longer stand he began to crawl, no matter how painful or slow and pathetic it was.

“H…Harry,” he said with a high voice, “my…my legs are broken.” His expression grew to one of terror and malice. “This is all your fault! Your entire fault, Potter!” He lifted his wand to try another curse, any curse, but Harry managed to knock it out of his hand. However, once he mentioned the spell to do so, a rock tumbled down from the ceiling and landed just to the left of him. “The pyramid is collapsing,” Grindelwald chuckled, “if I can’t have your soul,” he continued, “then neither can you!”

Grindelwald, experiencing pain beyond pain, stood straight up with the palm of hands pointed straight at Harry’s chest. Harry was dumbfounded, he found himself yet again at a loss about what to do. At that precise moment, though, something came to Harry’s aid that he wasn’t expecting, which was most disheartening to Grindelwald. A chunk of the ceiling broke away and came barreling down upon his head, crumbling into pieces and leaving Grindelwald in extreme agony. Nevertheless, Harry dusted himself off and removed the debris from the dark lord in an attempt to arrest him.

“Harry,” he said in a defeated voice, “it’s…it’s me…Harry…”

Harry was staring deep into his enemy’s eyes, wondering what he was trying to say. “Grindelwald,” he said, “you’re Grindelwald; we’ve been through this.”

The being slowly grabbed Harry’s cloak, his arm shaking in severe pain. “It’s me!” he shouted, “Draco!”

“WHAT!?” yelled Harry as another piece of the ceiling careened nearby. “You’re Grindelwald…how are you Draco Malfoy?”

“He…he took my body…” the being let go of Harry, somewhat relieved, and fainted for a few moments. Harry lifted his head and held him in his arms. “Don’t move me,” he said. “The magic will come into affect if I leave this place.”

“D…Draco? How can this be?”

Draco was breathing hard, very close to death indeed. “That day I met you outside of Gringotts…the same day that thief Mudungus Fletcher was killed…was the same day Grindelwald got to me. He did those deeds, not I,” He looked into Harry’s eyes. He remembered being informed that Draco had used the imperious curse on the salesmen at Borgin and Burke’s, but it supposedly backfired with Fletcher’s death, and his escape through the Vanishing Cabinet. “You’ve got to believe me. The real Grindelwald tricked me; he played some sort of mind manipulation on me. That day, in Knockturn Alley, I wasn’t pulled into the Vanishing Cabinet, I was taken away…but how I got there I do not know. He then trapped me in a cage inside some sort of bunker,” Draco’s temper was rising, “like an animal he kept me.”

“Grin…er…Draco,” Harry said, “is this the truth?”

Draco nodded his head and rolled his eyes all the same. “He performed some sort of magic on me where everything about us was exchanged…and he stole my body and left me with his rotting corpse you see before you.” He gripped Harry’s cloak, “HE TOOK MY MIND, HARRY! MY MIND!” Tears rolled down his cheek and parted the dust on his face.

Harry, as one can imagine, was shocked and horrified by what he had just learned. This whole time the Ministry was trying to find the real Grindelwald in Draco’s body, or were they?

“Yes they were,” Draco said upon reading his mind. “Certain officials in the Ministry are planning a take over; if they haven’t already…you coming here probably was all they needed. Grindelwald is counting on your soul being taken by me, only you were to think that I was he. I know this because Grindelwald told me himself…HE IS GOING TO BE THE LEADER!” he sobbed. “But I think his plans changed once he realized what he could do while holding power.”

“But…but Draco, how come you didn’t tell me this before?” his voice was shaken; he could not believe what he was hearing.

“Not only did he essentially force me to switch bodies with him,” Draco went on, “but he provided me with all the knowledge of his plans and forced me into believing that I was indeed Grindelwald using a memory charm.” Harry recounted Voldemort doing the same with many a people and house elf he framed. “He then used another form of magic to make me stay within the Forbidden Forest and bring about the resurfacing of this pyramid. I couldn’t control myself; it was as if I were a slave.”

“The Imperious Curse,” commented Harry.

“Yes, something to that extent, but much worse,” Draco added, “ancient magic I presume. The Ministry is behind this entire thing…” Malfoy suddenly breathed in deep and exhaled slowly, “…I do not fear death, Potter…”

“What is it that you ask of me?” Harry still had him in his arms, protecting him from any pieces of debris.

“Tell the world.” Draco stared up at Harry one last time, and for a few moments they understood each other. Through all the trials and tribulations they experienced at Hogwarts and outside, it had led to this very moment, the moment in which one would die in the hands of the other.

Feedback on why you liked it or hated it?

Chapter Seventeen:

The pyramid began to shake, as if the earth had suddenly decided to give way. The hall’s ceiling was crumbling to bits and Harry knew he only had a few seconds before he could get out on his own. ‘The magic will come into affect if I leave this place.’ He strained his vision up the ramp and knew he didn’t have much time, that is, until something gripped him by the side and flung him about. He felt as though he were galloping away with the wind billowing through his jet black hair. And then it ended as he was thrown to the floor in a heap.

Firenze had entered the forest and stood before him, “Mr. Potter, there wasn’t any time, I’m sorry…”

He was about to blow up in a fury, he could have brought Draco’s body too – it then struck him again like it did back at Gringotts. Draco’s parents were killed too. Not only that, but he had to remind himself that the Dementor Magic would go into affect if he had taken his body with him. “Thank you, Firenze.” He observed his surroundings, “You’re in the Forbidden Forest, Firenze…” The centaur stepped to the side and turned slightly to reveal on the right side of his chest an arrow that had pierced him.

“Do not worry about me,” he said calmly, “I’ll be fine. Do you remember me saying that when the pyramid would arise, that either chaos would follow or the golden age of peace?” Harry nodded as a tree branch was heard snapping in the distance. “I can assure you that the age of peace is upon us…only not what I for one was counting on.”

Harry wasn’t shy to show that he feared whatever it was in the distance that was getting closer. “What do you mean?” he said distractedly.

“Peace is forming,” Firenze looked to the sky, “the world is silencing.” Suddenly a ferocious brown colored centaur brandishing a spear rammed his body into Firenze’s, and into the arrow setting it deeper, and flung him to the ground. In the sudden uproar, Magorian, Bane, and several other centaurs crept out from behind trees and rushed at Harry sending him flat onto the ground as well receiving several scrapes.

Bane was the first to speak, “You fool,” he directed his anger at the brown tinted one. “You were supposed to attack after the wizard had left!” He held his right arm up and most of the centaurs aimed their bows at Firenze. “I suggest you leave this place at once, Professor Potter.”

Harry knew that the centaurs had a rather disliking of magic and wizards so he kept his wand to his side, “I’m not going anywhere without Firenze.” Bane twitched his head and several centaurs pointed their bows at Harry, ready to set their arrows loose upon his body.

“Why should I listen to a wizard when all I have to do is give the order and you’re both gone?” he scoffed. “The traitor,” and then he spat at Harry, “and the wizard.”

Even more sudden, Grawp had seemingly erupted from behind Harry flinging him quite a distance and in the process losing his wand. Harry looked around briefly for it but found it to be impossible to find in thick forest with all the commotion and what seemed to be smoke and fog. Grawp was attempting to scoop the centaurs up and fling them away, but every time he tried, they would back away and continue their relentless bombardment of arrows upon him, which was like being poked by a cactus to him.

“Oh,” a weeping man was heard, and Harry could have sworn it was Grawp, “They’ve killed Firenze, Grawp! They’ve killed him!” Harry then recognized the voice as Hagrids who was holding on for dear life to his brother’s back, despite only being half his size or so. “’Arry, leave! RUN!” Hagrid jumped off his brother’s back and took a few swings at the surrounding centaurs, who weren’t in good shape themselves because of Grawp’s intense attack. “LEAVE, ‘ARRY! Just go.”

Harry wheeled around and saw another group of five large centaurs running at full speed toward him, he knew he didn’t have what it takes to fight them off. His most trusted asset had been knocked loose, but his friends were in trouble and distress. He desperately said the lumos spell, but the light issuing from it must have been absorbed into all the chaos, or it was behind a tree or rock for all he knew. The hooves of the centaurs felt as though they were now bearing down upon him. He looked from Hagrid to Grawp and to Firenze…

**

Harry apparated to the Ministry with a mission. He was going to tell the world about what had just happened and help to restore order to the Wizarding World. Once he arrived in the atrium, Dolores Umbridge and Dawlish were standing nearby, discussing something of great importance.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, we’ve been expecting you,” she said.

“That’s nice,” spat Harry, “I’ve found Dra…” he looked down the corridor to his left and saw the likeness and image of Draco Malfoy approaching him. “Draco Malfoy,” he said blankly.

“Yes,” Dawlish spoke, “He turned himself in just a few moments ago,” he beamed. “However, he’s been granted immunity, he wasn’t himself throughout those terrible events he was involved in.” Dawlish and Umbridge were like giants smiling grotesquely over Harry.

Harry backed away, lifting his hands in an attempt to do some sort of magic, any magic. Suddenly, a group of wizards dressed in blue descended upon him from all directions and they began to advance on him, wands drawn. He began to wave his arms madly, as if saying that if they came closer he would punch whomever, it didn’t matter. The wizards backed away for a brief moment to examine their robes, Harry had somehow tattered them, leaving singed marks in certain places. One of them finally stunned him and sent him to the ground, his eyes watering and his side in pain.

He looked around for the sound of approaching footsteps, calm ones, as if someone was casually walking by. Upon looking up he saw the face of Draco, but he knew it wasn’t he, it couldn’t have been. He had a blank expression as he stared down at Harry, but on the inside it was filled with cruelty and malice for he was Grindelwald, unmatched by anyone save Voldemort. He slowly snapped his fingers and the wizards brought forth what appeared to be a pillow case and covered his head, tying a rope around his neck giving him just enough slack to breathe, and bound his arms and legs.

“Take him away,” a wispy voice said, “to Azkaban Fortress for the rest of his days.”

The voice drowned away and the cold air of the evening soon was pressing on Harry, defenseless and unable to do anything.

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END OF PART ONE

PART TWO

Chapter One:

It seemed months had passed by to Harry; he no longer counted on his hands, nor etched furiously on the floor of his small cell, the numbers of days that had flown by. Imprisoned in a dark, cramped quarter in Azkaban Fortress, he looked out onto the cold waters of the North Sea from his small window.

Occasionally, a dementor would glide down the corridors; perhaps just a visit to their old outpost, though that wasn’t what was keeping the prisoners at bay. Harry recounted that Lupin told him that there were no bars on the cells at Azkaban. However, this time around, the cell entrances seemed to be made of some sort of fluorescent matter which, when touched, forced the person into convulsions for several minutes. They were allowed to walk around every so often out onto the blacktop where they were allowed to only talk, though in these strange times, there wasn’t much talking. Everyone, it appeared, was rather depressed and shocked they had been placed in a living nightmare.

Over the months many a great witch or wizard had been brought in, or taken down, or never heard from again. It was rumored that Hannah Abbott was attacked by Grindelwald’s followers and ultimately killed. Ernie Macmillan sought revenge for her death, but ultimately failed. One day, a group of witches and wizards, including Ludo and Otto Bagman, were brought before the entire prison and each received the Avada Kedavra as a lesson against escape, despite the absence of such attempts.

Katie Bell had been imprisoned and she told about how she and Marcus Belby were caught by Williamson and a multitude of other Grindelwald followers. Belby attempted to get away but was immediately killed. Just two days after her story, she was sweeping the hallway in Block E and she bewitched her broom, allowing herself to make a getaway. Unfortunately, the revolting guards of Azkaban unleashed several bludgers; many people saw her fall into the cold waters, never to resurface.

Antonin Dolohov, a model prisoner, had become the tester of a more sinister act of death, or at least that’s what Harry thought. He remembered seeing him pass by his cell on his way to the courtyard one night and several minutes’ later three shots were heard. It was reported that he was taken down by a muggle gun. Tiberius Ogden was attacked by a group of young followers and wasn’t treated for his wounds; he later succumbed to his injuries. Penelope Clearwater, like Katie, told of how she, Seamus Finnegan, and the ever so dimwitted Marcus Flint escaped the clutches of Grindelwald’s followers from Hogsmeade only to be later attacked in Knockturn Alley. Seamus was seen inside his shop, fending off the pursuers when it suddenly exploded, or at least that’s what was reported, and Marcus Flint was found face down in the same location with not a mark on him. Clearwater was later escorted out of Azkaban and never heard from again.

It was also rumored that Bellatrix Lestrange, among the most horrible of all Death Eaters to ever roam the planet, died of starvation in Azkaban Fortress. She was never allowed to leave her cell.

Despite the tragic losses, no matter how twisted they were outside of the prison, they regarded each other with a level of respect. No one wanted to see an innocent person die at the hands of blind followers of some wicked person that proclaimed to be the dark lord. And if they were genuinely guilty, they deserved to serve their punishment and not die a most gruesome death. Days and nights swung on the pendulum of time and life continued.

**

“Harry,” a rather old voice beckoned Harry while out one day in the courtyard standing around. “Come here, Harry.”

Harry barely got the nerve to go see whoever called his name. He feared that it would be some witch or wizard bent on getting him back for placing them in this retched place some years ago. Upon turning around, however, he saw an old man who looked rather familiar and humble. “You’re the barkeep of the Hogshead Inn, right?”

“That is correct,” said the man, “but you can call me Aberforth.”

Harry smiled, a rare event indeed, “I’ve always suspected but never said anything.”

“Of course you have,” beamed Aberforth, “Albus…” he noticed Harry perk up with a slight glimmer behind his glasses, “Oh, never mind, we shall not dwell on the past.” He and Harry were now arms length apart. “How are you enjoying your stay in Azkaban?”

“I don’t enjoy the food,” Harry said saddened. “Other than that, I have no complaints.”

They both laughed out loud and brought unwanted attention, before long, though; the crowds had flocked to another area aimlessly. “Listen, I know of a way to get us out of here, but it’s going to take some patience and practice, do you understand?” Harry nodded though he wasn’t sure if he should be listening to him. “Wandless magic.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Wandless magic? Who can do that?”

Aberforth looked as if he had just bit into a lemon. “Are you insane? You’ve done it countless times; at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Harry looked out to the sea; the waves were crashing mightily and producing a white mist on the steep cliffs of Azkaban. “What are you talking about then?”

“I’ve done it countless times myself on goa…er…I heard you singed the robes of those ministry folk a few months ago,” he dictated, “you nearly melted a door handle, according to Minerva…”

“…those were just…just emotional times…”

“Of course, and lets not forget your aunt.” Harry didn’t blink. “You see, if you can master this…this wandless magic…you can cause damage to the prison and we can all escape.”

“Well, if I can somehow do that,” Harry said sarcastically, “then couldn’t we just jump off the edge right here and swim away?”

“They have grindylows patrolling in those depths, that is, on the South side, they haven’t been ordered to swim around the northern parts of the prison because it is impossible for anyone to jump to there. We’re going to escape that way, then. You will be one your own, think of it as utilizing your emotions.”

“…you speak as if all of this has already been planned…”

“It has,” Aberforth said walking smugly away, leaving Harry to mull in his thoughts.


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Chapter Two:

It had been several months since the last time Harry had the chance to talk to anyone, save for a few grumblings when they all congregated in the cafeteria for a quick meal. Aberforth always seemed to look in his direction trying to secretly pry him along with certain twinklings and squints. Harry usually nodded, which meant that he was coming along smoothly.

Though he did have his moments of doubt during those few months. On one particular occasion he managed to make his bed disappear which baffled a visiting dementor, or at least it would appear that way. He lifted his hands and thrusted those in front of him as if pushing something out of the way. This failed several times before he realized that it relied on a certain emotion, one in which involved anger, resentment, and fear of some sort; though the specific one and cause eluded him.

In the past whenever he was angry something incredible and extraordinary would happen. For instance, his Aunt Marge blew up and floated out of the house. Another time he nearly metled his door handle back in Hogwarts, and singed the clothes on Grindelwald’s followers in the Ministry. It became more apparent that it wasn’t just anger, since he wasn’t necessarily angry all the time in those cases. It was more about the will to protect others. He knew if he couldn’t stop Grindelwald that the chaos and fear in the world would continue, and much to his luck he was without a wand at the time. Mixed emotions gathered and the exertion of a force, a magical force, thrust itself outward.

On another practice, a fanged Frisbee flicked into the cell and shot from all directions before zooming out of there and into the North Sea. Soon enough, however, Harry had come to a certain knowledge of magic without the use of wands. He could easily lift pens and pencils, when given the chance, without touching them; or make his clothes two times larger. One time he even made it rain in the hallway, much to the disliking of the guards who hadn’t a clue about what was going on.

Finally, after training for those two months and becoming confident enough to do it on a regular basis, he looked up from his plate in the cafeteria and noticed Aberforth sitting at the edge of the table across the hall. The old wizard made an effort to acknowledge his presence and soon seemed to beam with joy, which became somewhat contagious. The morale of the prison seemed to lift, and whispers of an escape soon came to Harry’s ears. Aberforth shrugged, as if he had nothing to do with it.

They all were ordered to get up and go back to their cell. Harry didn’t see who it was, but somebody grabbed him by the arm and stuffed a note into his pocket. The person disappeared from view, and once Harry got to his cell he read the note to himself.

‘Once you bring damage to the prison, the bars will dissolve’

It wasn’t exactly what he expected but he examined the magical bars and noticed that there was some sort of current running through them that led straight into a shaft which seemed to blend into the ceilings of each prisoner’s cell. He came to the conclusion that if he blasted a hole into side of Azkaban, at the right place, the bars would go away and allow a person to jump to their freedom through the hole.

With the prison abnormally silent, he brought his hands together, all thoughts escaping him except those of anger and rage, and a whirlwind of pressure overcame him, he motioned his arms and hands forward and a huge chunk of the fortress blew apart and the pieces dissolved into the air. An odd spray of liquid burst from pipes in the side of the wall but soon stopped, Harry figured it was what the bars were. He looked down to the sea, stopping on the jagged edges of the hole with iron and copper wires protruding, and he could distantly see pieces of Azkaban hit the water. To his luck and the prisoners who would join him there were no grindylows or other foul beasts awaiting them. Somehow the guards weren’t alerted by this, nor was there much commotion. A lot of witches and wizards were waiting for this moment and didn’t want to ruin it.

The person’s cell next to his, Dedalus Diggle, appeared in his cell and looked down to the chilly North Sea. “Certainly is a far leap,” he straightened his clothing and looked at Harry, “thanks mate, you mean the world to me.” He felt the side of the hole and ducked to avoid getting cut by the wires, he then leapt to certain peril. Harry’s eyes followed him down until he saw a tiny splash indicating how far the jump was. It must have been ages before he hit the water.

“Harry, hurry!” He turned and saw a crowd of black and white clothed people bustling through each other. He suddenly felt a soft hand upon his shoulder, but that was rather deceiving as the same hand threw him out of the prison. As he fell he could see the fortress’s sides, it was made of bare of metal with spike protruding from the sides. He knew it must have been unplotted, but how could such a thing so large and vial be unplotted? In an instant it seemed, he found himself wide eyed and perked up, as if he drank a vast amount of caffeine, and was looking around for the nearest spot of land but found none. The cold waters of the sea were beginning to inch away at his life, his hands and feet going numb, soon his legs and arms and ears. “Swim ahead my boy,” he heard Aberforth say.

“I can’t feel my legs.”

“Just try your hardest.”

Harry began to swim but wasn’t quite sure if he was doing it correctly for the numbness had taken over. All around him he could see people swimming wildly in all directions, but only a few attempting to follow him and Aberforth, as if they were the ones with the plan to escape after all.

Soon enough green and red spells were raining down upon them, a few witches and wizards were hit and they went motionless. “They’re firing the killing curse at us,” squealed a witch in desperation. “Help!” yelled a wizard as he was being attacked by the cruciatus curse. Harry attempted to help them but Aberforth grabbed him and it seemed the cold water had no affect on him. “Just a bit further.”

Beneath him he could feel something bump against him and tug at his clothes, or at least he thought he could. He dared not look under the water but he had the horrible feeling that it was some sort of giant squid much like the one from the Black Lake.

Suddenly out of the sky appeared a brown object, as if it were conjured and was slowly making its way down from the clouds. It became obvious after a few moments that it was a small boat. “Grab hold of the raft,” explained Aberforth through chattered teeth, “and we’ll be on our way.” The boat came plummeting down, as if what it was doing previously was graceful and meaningful. Harry couldn’t tell who else was holding on, but suddenly they were all whooshing around under the waves. He didn’t open his eyes but he felt as though he were apparating through stone cold water. Soon enough the waters became warmer and the boat slowed down.

They reached the surface and took long breaths of fresh air.

Through panted breaths Aberforth smiled and said, “I’ve swam in chilly waters before but not that chilly!” He pointed above Harry’s head, “Welcome to the Black Lake.”

Harry looked up, and sure enough, through the tall trees Hogwarts castle was visible. He never felt so relieved and overjoyed in his life.


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Chapter Three:

Harry wheeled around as soon as he came to his senses. He had almost forgotten some of his Auror training in which it is stated that a professional should always check his or her surroundings. He neglected to check who had come with Aberforth and him on that quick escape plan.

Felicia Fotesque stood from the Black Lake shivering and rather pale. Dedalus Diggle had tagged along after all, and was brandishing a weed he had pulled up from the murky depths and was examining it with an air of intrigue. A few wizards’ heads were bobbing around the boat, as if they didn’t want to be seen, and as Harry began to go in their direction someone grabbed him by the robe and hugged him.

“Happy to see you mate!” exclaimed Ron.

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his best friend. “Ron!” he yelped, “how have you been?!” He took note of his thin stature.

“Just about as well as you are,” he smiled, “so far our family has been lucky in this mess of a war…that is…this war. Vol – er…the other one,” he sighed, “…I miss Bill.” He motioned towards a few poor saps throwing lake mud off their Azkaban clothes, trying to avoid the onset of tears and turning red. “George couldn’t make it, but Fred and Charlie could.”

“Harry Potter,” Charlie said through a dirty face, “glad we’ve met again.”

“George got left behind,” Fred told, “I feel naked without him.”

“Although we all aren’t here, I’m also happy we’ve come together,” Aberforth looked over the group, “but we have a rendezvous to meet with in a few minutes…”

Suddenly there was a splash behind them and a stern voice was heard, “…I’m terribly sorry we can’t be part of this but we have prior engagements.” The heads that were bobbing near the boat were now fully figured Death Eaters. Rudolphus Lestrange and Mulciber, Sr. were standing before them, looking like death would strike at any moment for they were pale and appeared to have been bathed in salt. Sturgis Podmore and Elphias Doge lazily stood up, ready to defend the old Order’s members to the death.

“That’s old news, no need to quarrel here,” Mulciber mumbled. “Say, Rudolphus, where are we going?” He fidgeted with his fingers before whispering to Mulciber, it sounded as he had no idea. “We are forever indeb…”

Rudolphus jabbed Mulciber in the stomach with his elbow before they each apparated away in an instant. “They were about to thank you and Abeforth, I bet,” noted Ron.

“Right then,” said Dumbledore conjuring a blanket and wrapping it around Felicia, “let’s get a move on.” He brought them into the small of the forest that acted as a barrier between the lake and Hogwarts. There, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest across the way was a hut letting out small puffs of smoke every now and then. The school would be back in session, they hoped, within a month’s time.

“Welcome, welcome!” bellowed Hagrid with a giant’s smile. “So ‘appy to see you lot alive,” he said with tears streaming down his face. The group crowded into his home and gathered next to the open oven. Deep within a chest, very much like the one Barty Crouch, Jr. had used, Hagrid pulled out a package and handed it to Aberforth. “We collected your wands, or most of ‘yeh anyway,” he looked at Felicia, “I’m sorry ‘bout that.”

“Thank you, Hagrid,” exclaimed Harry, “I thought you were…you were…”

“Dead?” he laughed, “oh no, those blimey centaurs can’t take down a giant and his brother.” The uninformed were looking at Harry and Hagrid with a degree of interest.

“What happened?” asked Ron, and Harry explained his part of the story adding, “And as I tried to defend myself at the Ministry, I was subdued and placed in Azkaban.”

“My side ‘o the story is simple, in an odd sense ‘o the word,” Hagrid told, “Firenze was troubled that ‘Arry had disappeared into the forest after the graduation ceremony and he and I went to search for him, and of course Grawp decided to tag along. All of the sudden the ground started to shake, like the whole of the land was going to blow, and that’s when Firenze ran off to get Harry out of that pyramid.” He brushed sweat off his head, “then after Harry escaped, Grawp and I made a run for it, and barely escaped ourselves, they seem to be afraid of Hogwarts now.”

“Something evil is afoot,” Elphias spoke, “it’s that deep treachery…that feeling one gets when the world has changed for the worse and there is no escaping it.” They were all looking into the fire now. “Knowing you will fall at some point into the darkness.”

“We’ve come through worse,” countered Ron, “we shouldn’t give up yet.” Elphias nodded his head in silence.

“What’s this?” Dedalus, his usual self, picked up an object that Hagrid didn’t recognize. It was almost like a ball which seemed to pulsate every few seconds emitting a small light, made of glass with a substance inside that pushed red objects to the surface.

“That’s a Recorbrall!” exclaimed Charlie, “They know we’re here then.” The ball pulsated a green light; “They just recorded what we’ve said, even if it didn’t mean anything.” Charlie snatched it out of his hands and managed to shut it off with a poke of his wand, he then stashed it within his robes. “Everything we have said gets recorded at the Ministry.”

“Grindelwald controls the Ministry now.” Harry didn’t have time to explain at the moment.

“Come,” Aberforth beckoned them all to the outside. “Hagrid knows this forest well; we shall hide in there until we come up with a plan.”

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Chapter Four:

Deep within the Forbidden Forest ran a river of blackness that reflected the soul’s of the earth. The outer banks of this wicked water front bore witness to vial sorcerery long ago and lay in decay for longer than any living person’s memory, save a very unfortunate few. The heart of the forest, this was the darkest and most feared of all the wood and anything that which the forest could produce. Something disdainful was at work here for not even the most evil and mean spirited individuals would step foot here.

“This seems like a nice place to stop,” beamed Hagrid holding a lantern in front of him. The wind blew and gave the false impression that the trees and bushes were talking. Lying about was petrified wood and the sky had a strange orange tint to it.

“I don’t like this,” Ron said with fear in his voice, “it’s a bit creepy.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Hagrid reassured him and the others, “not a soul dare come here, not even a most daring one.”

“We’re here,” said Harry “and I’m not too sure I want to be here, though it looks strangely familiar.”

“Tha’s right, we are ‘ere,” said Hagrid, “but I’ve been coming over to this place for years now, getting closer ‘n closer until I finally got the courage to see wha’ it was all ‘bout. ‘Course, I did find the remnants ‘o some sort of magic at work. Skeletons with dark robes ‘n all, but I cleared it all away and now look.” From behind him he picked a flower out of the ground, “there is some good left in this world, you see?”

“I understand,” replied Fred, “still freaks us Weasleys’ out though.”

Harry picked up a white and rather old looking object that seemed half buried in the ground and chucked it into the brush. “Death Eaters…”

Hagrid reached out to stop Felicia from getting a drink from the river. “That’s a cursed water, mind you. I’ve been told meself by a friend ‘o mine that dark forces can possess you or play tricks ‘o the mind ‘n all.”

“What’s our course of action?” asked Charlie, “we have to remember that there are people still in Azkaban as well as those in hiding and working in the Underground.”

“The Underground!” shouted Hagrid with delight, “jus’ so you know, we’ve been working our tails off trying to get information and what not. It took us some time to manage that boat trick you lot used to escape.”

“How do we contact them?” wondered Harry with Ginny in mind.

“Not right now,” Aberforth remained motionless, “we need to concentrate on a new objective…we can regroup at a later time.”

“They’ve been keeping close tabs on us,” blurted Hagrid and pointing to the sky where a magnificent eagle soured by, “we just gotta be careful.”

“Thank you Hagrid,” Aberforth sounded agitated, “yes, they’ve been watching us in more ways than we know…or, that is, ever since we left Azkaban through various means. Now, is everyone ready to hear what we have to do?”

**

They returned to the Ministry with one thing in mind, they had to get Grindelwald alone and finish him off before this wickedness could continue, then proceed with his followers if they don’t comply. They each followed Harry’s lead. While observing from the outside of the green draped complex, he pointed out certain entry points high above the atrium and the Fountain of Magical Brethren. They appeared to be huge window openings that one could not see from the inside but were only seen from the outside. These would allow each of them to keep a close eye on the goings on of the Ministry without being seen until need be.

They each took position, one to each opening high above such that only they could be seen if they wanted to be. It was nearly the evening, the sun would set soon and they wouldn’t be able to do much but wait. A few officials walked briskly near the fountain before apparating to wherever they chose. Other witches and wizards decided to walk out, Ron later noticed that they were going to patrol around the city looking for any Muggles that were alone.

And then there they were. Grindelwald in the likeness of Draco came out from behind a door near the entrance to the Department of Mysteries and came strolling across the atrium. He stopped at once as several wizards dressed in blue and Dolores Umbridge met up with him. They appeared to be arguing about something when it suddenly struck Harry. He looked across to where Ron was observing and motioned for him to retreat. The others followed and they soon met up on the roof where a broom lay from one of Harry’s missions.

“What is it, Harry?” Elphias was rather displeased.

“I’ve seen this before.”

“I heard what they said,” Fred interrupted and said with delight, “those extendable ears come in use…they all planned the coup so Grindelwald could obtain power.”

“It seems as though this was a trap,” Dedalus said with no smile this time, “Why else would they mention that out of nowhere?”

“What do you mean you’ve seen this before, Harry?” Sturgis prodded Harry for information.

“It was an Auror mission,” he explained, “we went into a cavern from a magical barrier at the Malfoy mansion and Kingsley found a note.” He pointed his wand up and the map on the note from several months ago came alive depicting the entry points with arrows showing how they were to come upon a certain point. “I later thought that was referring to the dementors and Scrimgeour’s plan was to get my soul, but it backfired for some reason. But Grindelwald said he controls the dementors. It was meant to be us! They’ve been planning this for ages…”

“Hold it right there,” a brooding voice belonging to Dawlish said. He snuck up behind them and brought his blue clothed friends. “You’re outnumbered so I dare say you better come with us, you filthy fugitives.”

“Hold onto to your pants!” yelled Elphias as he stabbed the floor of the roof of Ministry. It immediately came collapsing down through the various levels of the building, leaving them unharmed due to his efforts in skilled magic. This was the same form of magic he used in Hogsmeade to detract the Death Eaters in which smoke came shooting out of the cracks in the ground.

Dedalus looked around briefly to see that the atrium was swarming with Grindelwald’s soldiers. “Run for it!” he yelled as he gathered up his robe and dashed for the door.

“Don’t apparate just in case,” Charlie called after him.

They reached the door to the Ministry and pried it open; the streets of London had never been so beautiful. Harry turned around for one last time and saw Aberforth still lagging behind, the soldiers had stopped and only Grindelwald was approaching them.

Aberforth suddenly froze in his position.

‘Potter does not understand why it is he that I seek,’ Harry heard a voice say but it was not directed to him, ‘for my plan has changed drastically from the beginning.’

“You just want power,” Aberforth said with his mouth open, it sounded like it was full of water. “You just want to destroy the world…you fail to realize…”

And suddenly a green light was emitted from behind the old wizard and Aberforth collapsed to the ground and remained motionless. Grindelwald calmly walked up to his body and shifted his eyes to Harry’s, who was also quite still.

‘I’ll hunt down your friend’s until the end of your days,’ he heard a voice say in his head, ‘as they say, an existence worse than death itself.’

“Harry,” Ron yelled, “let’s go! The Underground and the Order are here!” Harry looked behind him, staring into his best friend’s face, and slowly closed the door to face Grindelwald alone. He was about to pull out his wand, preparing for a dual when suddenly an explosion occurred behind him, somebody had used a bombardment spell on the door to the Ministry. Grindelwald had slumped to the floor and held up his right arm to avoid getting hit by pieces of the wall. Before he could react, Harry was yanked out by Hagrid.

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Chapter Five:

“Blimey, Harry, what are you thinkin’? You can’ do things like tha’…well…maybe you can.” Hagrid carried Harry in one arm across the street and let him fall loose once they had reached the other side. The building had healed itself up somehow and appeared to be vacant once again. The green drapes were billowing from the roof as if something was brushing against them.

“What are you doing, Hagrid?” Harry was red in the face, “I could have finished him – “

“- The Underground an’ the rest ‘o the Order is ‘ere!” he paused and looked crestfallen, “or, ‘least the lot not locked ‘n Azkaban.”

Harry whipped around after Hagrid’s second comment and through a crowd of tired witches and wizards appeared Ginny. He raced over to her as the crowd parted and embraced her for what seemed like ages. “Harry,” she said after some time, “people are watching.”

“Let them look,” he kissed her and finally let her go, his heart was racing and his hopes had lifted significantly. “I love you.”

She blushed, “I love you too.”

“Sorry,” said Remus from among the crowd of Aurors, Order members and other witches and wizards. He looked rather pale and had matted hair as if he had been through a tough ordeal. “…er…”

“What happened to you?” exclaimed Harry examining his tattered robes.

Remus smiled, “I transformed in Azkaban the night before you showed up and I escaped. Those magical bars had no effect on me, if memory serves me right,” Tonks hugged him from behind. He noticed most of the others eyeing him with caution, “not to worry, my last transformation was a week ago. I took it upon myself to investigate matters with a few most gruesome werewolves and vampires in my absence -”

“- vampires!?” Dedalus half screamed, “My worst fear. What’s this business with vampires you speak of – and werewolves?”

Remus looked as if he never wanted to mention that, “its nothing Dedalus. Just something I was asked to do by Dumbledore before he died.” He looked at Harry as if trying to tell him more but Harry didn’t understand. He continued where he left off from his escape, “a Belgium fishing boat picked me up some time later.” He was looking around, “where is Aberforth, if you don’t mind me asking,” but he already knew the answer once he saw the look on Harry’s face, “I see.”

“Indeed there is more to fear than meets the eye, isn’t there Mr. Lupin?” said Dean with his cloak billowing in the darkness.

“- I hate to say it,” said a disgruntled Moody perched atop a Muggle shop, “but we might have to flush them out of there. There are too many places they can hide within that monstrosity.” Harry noted that his magical eye had gone from blue to grey and he looked rather pale. “Alright there, Potter?”

“Yes, sir,” he smiled.

“I can see them now, Dawlish,” he breathed his name heavily. Harry had always noticed a sort of resentment between the two. “They’re heading down – “

“- How do we flush them out?” asked Ron, “We might risk Muggles seeing us!”

Remus took it upon himself to answer, “that may be a risk we’re willing to take. This has gone on for far too long and strangely enough, there are actually very few people behind it.” He explained further, “During Voldemort’s height, he had so many followers that it was an all out war. This time around, when faced against a much different type of dark lord, there are very few followers. It is a reign of strict terror.”

A deep and proud voice belonging to Dean Thomas was heard now, “Umbridge may be the only one who doesn’t know what is going on.” Harry looked over to him and their eyes met with a weird sort of understanding and acknowledgement, “There is Grindelwald of course - and Dawlish like Alastor said - then there are a few Death Eaters such as Avery, Crabbe Sr, and Rookwood – “

“ – That’s odd,” pondered Ginny, “what would the Death Eaters want with Grindelwald?”

“My guess is power,” said Dean, “they go from each entity seeking power.” He slid off a ledge he was sitting on, “and then there are a few others like Proudfoot.”

“Do you get it now?” asked Lupin to them all, “very few are responsible for the suffering of the majority, but those with responsibility at hand either did nothing or tried and were taken away by the brainwashed elite.”

“Which is why I say we take them out now!” yelled Moody. A vein could be seen throbbing on his forehead and he was pointing his wand at the building that was supposed to be the Ministry. Taking caution into the wind he fired off a bombardment spell and it blew a gash in the side of the wall, revealing a circular desk and a very mischievous house elf that ran away from the trash bin. Within seconds the wall was patched up. He tried again, aiming near the roof, but this time the spell was deflected. “Don’t just stand there,” he growled loudly, “let’s all try!”

Elphias and Dedalus flanked him, ready to give their share. Harry kneeled down, Ron and Ginny at his side. Charlie Weasley aimed his wand carefully at the door, ready for the right time to unleash his spell and Sturgis copied him. Dean decided to lurk into the shadows but he was also ready for the signal to unleash his destructive spell. Tonks and Lupin stood side by side, unwavering and rather cautious, looking from the Ministry to each other with a degree of fear. Hagrid lifted his umbrella, narrowly missed Hestia Jones’s head that was standing next to Fred.

And suddenly - CRACK.

“Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed Ron who was now hugging Hermione. Minerva had joined her and was looking at each of the members. “You scared the Dumbledore out of us, Hermione.”

”Thank you, Ron,” she said looking at everyone, “what are you lot doing?”

“We’re about to blast away the Ministry.”

“But that won’t work,” she looked rather distressed, “they’ll emerge from there like bee’s with their stingers ready, what good will trying destroy something that can repair itself? Honestly, am I the only one who has read The Ministry, A History? Oh, hi Harry.” She walked over to Harry and hugged him, who beamed at her but was still concentrating on the half baked plan. “Anyway, one can only do damage from within.”

Before another word was said, Moody fired off another bombardment spell, possibly to make Hermione stop talking, and the other’s followed suit. In the chaos Hermione and Minerva flopped to the ground and covered their heads with their hands to avoid getting hit themselves. She looked over at the Ministry and could see through the newly formed holes that Grindelwald’s blue robed soldiers were preparing to attack them on the streets. When they were finally convinced that nothing changed their stance, and the building had repaired itself yet again almost as if there was a protective fabric over it, she stood up red with anger.

“Now what did that accomplish!?” she threw all her insults at Ron, “but it did help us see that they’re about to all out attack us.”

“What?” Harry looked at the building but there was nothing there, “what did you see?”

“Yes,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Blue robed wizards, armed with wands, blindly following their master’s will. Even in the shadow of uncertainty and what would look like defeat, they still try to defend a wizard who holds such treachery and malice.”

The door to the Ministry creaked open. For a few moments it looked as if nothing was there but a gaping chasm of darkness. But out of the depths came a host of wizards, each dressed in blue like Hermione had said. They were outnumbered two to one. The wizards lined up with their backs against the building and their wands pointed skyward, ready to defend it to the last death for Grindelwald and his few followers who were still inside. Harry heard Hermione say, “Like I said.”

“Wands at the ready,” Lupin said as if he were instructing his students, “we’re going to need all the skill in witchcraft and wizardry we can muster.” Harry noticed a faint glimmer of playfulness in his eyes.

“Strength in numbers,” breathed Ron.

“Numbers don’t determine the outcome, Ron,” Charlie said.

Ron went red in the face and smirked at his brother.

“I wouldn’t bother to think about any beasts being unleashed from the Ministry,” Dean said above the tones of disbelief, “I got them out of there before the Underground assembled, except for those heliopaths that Luna Lovegood tried to tell me about.”

Harry lightly chuckled at the mention of Luna and noticed Ginny and Hermione rolling their eyes.

For some reason, Fred Weasley had a twinkle in his eye and Ron, Harry, and Ginny felt a lot better. “Don’t worry,” he said, “we have something that should play to our advantage.” Fred giggled to himself then poised his body, ready for a battle.

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Chapter Six:

They all were staring at the wizards with bated breath, waiting for something extremely odd to happen when Remus finally spoke, “What did you do?” he begged Fred for more information, “you and your brother, George, what did you lot do? Does this have anything to do with you shop?”

Fred looked at his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, “We used one of those old jinxes we taught ourselves and placed it on the wands and dress robes in our shop.” He conjured a business card and handed it to Remus, “in case you’re ever interested…”

“– get to the point – “

“– Alright, don’t get your broomstick in a twist,” he said. “As it turned out, we were the only shop available and there was a large order called in for these blue dress robes and wands for the Ministry…what with Olivanders and all the decent wand makers missing…who better to ask? So, well, you’ll see.” Harry remembered Mrs. Weasley having a fit over those fake wands.

Remus and Fred turned their attention back to the crowd of blue robed wizards, each pointing their wands at the group assembled before them across the street. “CRUCIO!” several Order members braced for the torture curse but nothing happened, instead the three wizards who cast them suddenly collapsed to the ground writhing with laughter and flowers growing straight out of there skin, their blue robes suddenly turning a bright pink and billowing upwards in an unseen wind. They were tended to by a few other wizards.

Ginny and Dean stood up perplexed as did the wizards across the way. Five others attempted the killing curse but were suddenly transfigured into lawn chairs and broomsticks. One wizard’s wand had jumped out of his hand and was hopping away towards freedom.

“I always loved that one,” commented Fred. The remaining wizards tossed their wands away and began to slowly approach their enemies.

“Fred,” called out Charlie, “should we worry?”

“It depends,” he answered, “but the best thing to do is hit them before they hit us.” Harry and Ron were way ahead of him. They took it upon themselves to body bind two of them, giving them the jelly leg lock first. A lone wizard attempted a hex but his wand shot out a dishwasher which landed on his foot. He sprang up in pain before being charmed to remain still.

One of the crucio-ed wizards, through his garden and tangled weed head and arms, stood and attempted to use the fire charm upon them, but instead his robes erupted in flames and he quickly threw them off and dashed for the Fountain. “Ingenious,” Hestia Jones commented. “Their wands affect them rather than us!” Sturgis and Dean had tied down the other four blue robed wizards with ease while the other followers were analyzing their wands.

“They don’t look too bright,” said Ginny, “what’s wrong with them?”

“The imperious curse, I suspect,” Hermione said. She waved her wand in a wild manner and across the way three wizards were seized by an unseen force and bound together, plopping to the ground looking rather hopeless. “Or some sort of memory charm which makes them follow a specific order.”

Harry and Dean approached the remaining wizards. “We advise you to drop your wands and hold your hands up,” they said together in different directions, “you’re being placed under Ministry arrest until further notice.” After a few moments the wizards complied and their wands were snapped in two, Fred winced. The pink billowing robes were placed under antijinxes as well. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny joined them on that side to see what was going on when a sudden black substance came before them, cutting them off from the rest of the Underground and Order. It descended like a black goop out of the sky, as if an invisible window protruded out of the ground helped it fall down. When Ginny reached out it felt like ice cold nothingness to her hands and she quickly withdrew. Only the Ministry remained untouched, like a shining beacon in an empty space, shrouded in blackness.

“I don’t understand what just happened,” exclaimed Ron looking white faced as if he had seen a spider. “What is that?”

“It’s an odd magic,” Dean observed then said, “it’s telling us to go into the Ministry that’s for sure.”

Harry also looked panic-stricken, “will we be able to come back? I’ve never seen something like this before. It’s as if the entire world has gone black except for the Ministry building itself.”

“Harry,” Hermione said, “it’s a type of magic that is similar to the Fidelius Charm. Only this is a very complex form and we’re viewing it in a negative format, if you will. To Remus and the others, we look as if we’ve disapperated. I bet once we enter the Ministry everything will look the same, only once the charm is lifted through the creator’s death, we won’t be seen.”

Harry nodded and led the way to the door of the Ministry building and sure enough the black magic suddenly dispersed and the universe appeared to be the same. However, instead of tied up wizards, the blue clothed aggressor were attacking Tonks, Remus, Moody and the others from all directions. Harry attempted to go help but was held back.

“We can’t do anything, and for all we know, it’s a trick of the mind,” Hermione added.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if we go out there now that we’ve passed this…this magical barrier, it could harm us. I read about the fidelius’ charm’s uses in the Dark Arts, Harry, it’s a very nasty business,” Hermione said. “Professor Flitwick, before he retired and I took his place, told me all about them. He heard of people being splinched by walking back out. The charm works by, once you pass a certain point, the place you’re trying to get to become the only place you can get to. If you fail to do so, the barrier closes around you – “

“– It was so cold,” said Ginny staring transfixed into space.

“Indeed,” Hermione continued, “its very dark magic. Nobody quite knows why the barrier is black and cold, or even why it becomes visible. I suppose it’s just a property of the charm. As for the trick of the mind, it makes us see the worst possible scenario that we have just come from, within a given situation and environment, to try and make us go back. But, like I said, one can get splinched or have other nasty things happen to them if they venture beyond the barrier.”

Harry looked at her with an air of awe. She would certainly go down as the most intelligent person he had ever met. He led the way, depressingly passing the fallen body of Aberforth Dumbledore. Harry wanted to move him, to at least cover him up, but was ushered away from doing so by the others who looked just as shocked and disturbed as he. Soon enough they came upon another ghastly scene. Before them were the bodies of Dolores Umbridge and Rudolphus Lestrange. Dean bent down to examine them quickly and carefully, handling Lestrange with more sternness.

“Just as I suspected,” he said. “I’m not sure about Umbridge here, but Lestrange, after having killed my father long ago, found himself in a similar predicament. Avery tortured the Lestrange father to insanity, and he…that is, Rudolphus…seemed to hold Avery responsible for his entire family’s death and strife, including his wife’s even if it looked as if he could care less about her in their last moments together.”

“How do you know this?” asked Harry with astonishment.

“Like you, Harry, I can do my own research and investigate such matters.”

Harry suddenly felt a pang in his throat; he couldn’t believe how arrogant he must have looked. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He looked at Dean to reassure him that he was sincere when he came realize with a hidden gasp how tired and worn he appeared. Dean had bags under his eyes, and his eyes were blood shot and had sunken in, as if he had a stay at the old Azkaban with dementors. He didn’t carry himself with the same pride he used to when he was first appointed as an Auror, he had lost himself in the war and turned very bitter and stern, a shadow of his former self.

“No worries.” Dean wasn’t looking at him but ahead towards the Fountain of Magical Brethren perhaps avoiding Harry’s intruding stare.

And suddenly a jet of red light hit Dean squarely in the chest, sending him to the ground struggling for air. Harry reacted and hid behind a pillar, looking for the source before he retaliated but there wasn’t one at the moment. A high pitched laugh was heard that echoed throughout the atrium and Harry realized that it had come from above. “You don’t understand,” the voice said, “never will.” It was almost comical for the voice went from low to high without any warning, as if the individual was drunk.

“He killed my friends! He killed…oh my.” Harry looked up to see the person falling fast down through the flights of the Ministry building. He pointed his wand at the person and stopped him at the last moment. ‘Mulciber!’ he thought and approached the man.

“Potter again!” he squealed as Ron came to his side, Ginny and Hermione were assisting Dean. “Malfoy killed them all, every last one, and now I have no one!” He tried to point his wand at Ron but Harry snatched it right out his hand and hexed him, then the two dragged him over to where Dean was laying on the floor. “Sorry, we’ll talk later about Grindelwald,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“…I’ll…be fine,” Dean panted, “…just go…find Grind…elwald…finish…him…off…” The curse had knocked the wind out of him.

“I can take the curse off,” said Hermione, “but it will take some time and I’ll need a helping hand.”

“I’ll stay,” Ginny said, “Harry and Ron…be careful,” she shot a look of seriousness at Ron and grinned at Harry.

Harry looked away; he couldn’t bear being gone long from Ginny but knew that there was something evil taking place. He wasn’t too sure about the magic outside and if the others were really in trouble. He also wanted to get Dean to a healer but couldn’t because of the situation they were in.

“Why do I get the feeling he’s in the Ministry basement, deep below the first floor?” asked Ron. And sure enough, a hole that could fit three grown men side by side was gashed away to reveal a fire lit stairway to the basement. “I heard they keep Muggles down there.”

“I doubt it,” Harry said through a smirk, “Moody once told me that there is nothing down there except darkness.”

“I guess his magical eye couldn’t see that far, eh?” Ron and Harry took the first two steps into the oblivion, hoping that the torches would stay lit and that there was something at the end of the stairway. The torches, as they descended further and further went from orange and yellow to grey and purple. Ron squinted, “there’s a platform coming up.”

“We must be deep under the Ministry,” said Harry, “can you hear that?” there were drops of water coming from somewhere deep within. “Reminds me of Gringotts.”

Once they reached the last step the brooding figure of Dawlish suddenly came into view and shuffled around so quickly that it thrust the two to the ground in an instant. Within seconds the thick robed wizard was clobbering on top of Ron, holding his head to the ground while he raised his wand, ready for a spell or curse. But Harry immediately swished his own and tossed the man to the ground in a heap. Harry lifted Ron back up, but Dawlish had recovered fast and flashed a blinding spell at them both. Harry stalked around aimlessly and disoriented but through the bright light in his eyes he could hear Ron being ravaged and ravaging back. It sounded as if a boxing ring was covered in dirt, the way the two were going at it. But suddenly Harry felt the full force of a wizard on his back, but it had gone limp and fell to the ground and didn’t get up.

Harry feared for his friend, “Ron, are you all right?”

“Just suffered a few minor scrapes, mate,” said Ron. Harry’s vision returned and through the torchlight he could see Ron with a bloody nose and he was brandishing his right ankle and holding his left arm out, it was oddly bent. “The old geezer tried to kill me, can you believe that? Good thing I’ve taken up Muggle boscing.”

“You mean boxing?”

Harry looked around at the scuffle that had taken place. The ground, some chairs, and bins were disturbed. How Harry hadn’t heard the entire ruckus was beyond him. Dawlish was slumped on the ground, looking rather tattered himself. “He’s out cold.” He waved his wand and his body went stiff, “now he’s stuck like that until I say so…” Ron nodded his head and noticed a long and narrow earthen hallway where Dawlish had been hiding. “Where do you suppose that connects to?” Harry lifted his shoulders as if to say he had no idea.

Harry pointed his wand at the tunnel and a light shot out of it. It disappeared down the long shaft. “It must take ages to get to the end of it.” He put his wand in his pocket and turned to face Ron.

“There’s only one more flight of stairs,” he said, “can you make it?” The platform was merely a halfway point between the Ministry and Grindelwald’s lair, and rather, his one of many lairs deep underground throughout the world.

Ron tried to lift his arm but failed in a soft cry of pain. “My arm is broke and I think I sprained my ankle,” he sulked. “I’ll stop other people from trying to intervene.” He had an uneasy grin on his face.

“Don’t worry then;” said Harry, “I know just what to do.” With that he took the last flight of stairs, down into the final dungeon of the Ministry, down into the depths of the world, down to meet the Dark Lord Grindelwald one last and hopeful time.

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Chapter Seven:

Harry soon reached the last step of the dimly lit stair case and came upon a long hallway with eight pillars to each side. It stretches almost as long as the entire Ministry of Magic. And there, at the far side of the place was Grindelwald brandishing his wand. “Welcome, Potter,” he said as a door sprang into place behind Harry and locked itself and glowing orange rocks protruded out from the ground next to each pillar, illuminating the entire hall.

“Your villainy ends tonight, Grindelwald,” Harry held his wand at his waist, ready for anything.

“I suppose you expect me to wallow away in fear or turn myself in, don’t you?” Grindelwald then rounded as if he thought of something new to say. “You think I’m only a part of your present when I am very much a part of your past.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore tales of treachery,” Harry responded, “I’ve heard too many from Scrimgeour and Regulus Black, and even what you planted within the real Draco Malfoy’s mind. Frankly, I could careless if you were part of my past – “

“– haven’t you ever wondered how you survived that night long ago when Voldemort attacked you?”

“That had nothing to do with you,” said Harry through gritted teeth, they were now pacing around, orbiting an imagined central point.

“We all know the tales of Snape’s intervention,” Grindelwald explained, “Black’s and Trelawney’s prophecy, but did you ever wonder…how did it happen? How when everybody else was killed by the killing curse when you survived?”

“Dumbledore told me,” Harry noticed Grindelwald’s face distort with rage, “a phantom death, he called it. The charm my mum placed upon me acted not like a shield but more like a sponge, and it also released the effect of the act upon Voldemort. If he had used the Imperious curse, he would have imperioused himself, you see? Voldemort attempted to kill me, but this charm acted against it, it absorbed the curse and allowed Voldemort a dose of his own medicine.” He paused for a few moments, “and Dumbledore also told me Snape had been most kind to Regulus, despite your intervening in his life. He wanted to bring Regulus Black back, but you had to destroy whatever dignity he had.”

“And it is all rooted with me,” Grindelwald smiled, his teeth, or rather Draco’s, were a shade of yellow. “Dumbledore failed to mention how far we go back, didn’t he?” Harry started to think that Grindelwald was prolonging something, or perhaps trying to stop the inevitable. “How long we were engaged in hating each other. How long he feared I would rise again, and indeed I did. So fearing he was that he revealed this to Lily Potter, thinking the Dark Lord of prophecy somehow referred to me. The charm was meant for me, you see? Albus had long suspected Voldemort had Horcruxes, and certainly he would have gone to greater lengths than to just defeat Voldemort than completely destroy him. I certainly would have done the latter, but Dumbledore was so fearful of me that he chose to safeguard everyone against the impossible, at the time that is.”

“Ridiculous,” Harry simply said and Grindelwald grew even madder, “Dumbledore feared no one, he just didn’t know Voldemort had multiple Horcruxes. How was he to know that he had any, he didn’t start investigating the matter until some time later anyway, while I was living – “

“ – at the Durselys?”

Harry didn’t even want to know how Grindelwald could have possibly known where he lived in his youth. He lifted his wand and got into a dual pose, the Dark Lord did the same, still somewhat unused to his new body. “This is your last chance to give up,” Harry said.

“I don’t give up,” Grindelwald responded. He twirled his wand several times with his eyes closed and then, as if he had made up his mind, moved to curse Harry. Harry was too quick for him, he quickly thought of a spell that would cause a lot of harm but not kill. One in which he was warned never to use again, one which Snape himself had invented and used on his father, albeit not as lethal. ‘Sectumsempra’, he thought and the spell hit Grindelwald’s right arm, his wand arm. The Dark Lord collapsed to the ground in agony, clutching what had become a stump in place of his arm. He looked across the way to Harry, his eyes seemed as though they were glowing from the orange rocks. “You fool!” he screamed, “you dirty half-blood fool!” He wrenched his wand out of his severed arm’s hand and attempted to curse Harry but it missed by several paces.

“Expelliarmus!” Grindelwald’s wand shot out of his hand and out of sight. Harry remained still as did Grindelwald who was looking up at him.

“I see Dumbledore told you about his endeavors with me.” His eyes were wide as if he were a deer caught in headlights. “How I was relieved of my wand arm and I collapsed unto utter failure. I was weak, that was my source of power and strength. I had not practiced with my other arm, the fool I was, nor did I have any other skills or techniques.” He raised his left arm, its hand scratched up and the nails sharp and purple. Harry, without warning, found himself pinned against a pillar by an unseen force. “You…you and Dumbledore,” Grindelwald was filled with rage and animosity, his voice like a dangerous growl, “try to kill me…try to rid me of my magic…never realizing I have other magical abilities…” He glanced behind him and his wand came floating through the air and into his hand.

Grindelwald touched Harry’s shoulder and there was an abrupt whoosh of wind that came over them. “Recognize anything, Potter?” Harry looked around and came to realize that the scenery had changed. They were within the circular room in the Department of Mysteries, the veil room, Grindelwald had apparated them there in an instant. “Nobody really appreciates my creations.”

“You made this…this veil?” exclaimed Harry with wonderment and exasperation, still pinned but on the upper level of the stadium-like design.

“That is correct.” Grindelwald casually strolled to the veil and turned, beaming at Harry. “Sirius Black, your god father was he? I’m afraid he is indeed dead.”

“Thanks for -,” Harry could hear the voices from within the veil, whispers of the once living. It was then that he was overcome with emotion and wanted to cry and explode in anger at the same time. Grindelwald, the source of his last ditch effort at having a true home when he was young. “You, Lord Grindelwald, should have realized that I learned other magical abilities as well.” Bottled up with rage and his eyes filling with tears, he closed his eyes and the charm upon him was suddenly lifted and Grindelwald stumbled in his place.

“What is this? Who taught you that?”

Harry didn’t answer, he brought his wand to eye level but Grindelwald was in such shock that he struggled to bring his wand up to defend himself. He fell backwards in disbelief and suddenly seemed to wither in despair. “I don’t want…don’t make me…” he looked behind him and suddenly curled up in fear and placed his hand on his ear but the other was still uncovered. Harry stopped short at the base of the stairs, staring in horror of the twisted face upon Grindelwald. “…don’t like…want to stop…” Harry was sure he heard this before and was even more horrified when Grindelwald got up and tripped over his own robes, falling nearly through the veil. His voice now muffled he continued his lament: “…no…I don’t want to…I don’t want to…let me go…make it stop, make it stop.” Harry wasn’t sure what he was talking about but kept his ground and kept his eyes on Grindelwald. After a few more moments of gurgled speech, a bone chilling scream from the Dark Lord was heard “KILL ME!” The veil then billowed forward as if reaching out to grab Grindelwald. He remained curled up in a fetal position, looking as if he could fall asleep and not care what would happen to him. An invisible force lurched out, shrouded by the veil, and yanked Grindelwald away. There was no outburst of fear or an attempt to escape, he simply laid down his soul and accepted the fate. Harry was certainly disheartened to even check what exactly occurred and decided to get out of the room as fast as he could.

When he got to the top of the stairs he turned, he could hear the whispers louder than ever before but he felt as though he knew what they were saying this time. The veil itself billowed as if an invisible wind brushed it from behind. After a few moments the sounds he felt such mystery and intrigue around died down and soon diminished, they were gone forever.

Harry found Ron at the bottom of the old staircase, nursing his arm. “How is everything?” he asked.

“Its done,” replied Harry, “I’ll explain later.” He grabbed a hold of Ron and Dawlish, who was still jinxed to remain in place, and apparated to the atrium where Dean was sitting up and looking much better. Ginny and Hermione were standing next to him and guarding him in case more Death Eaters or some other monstrosity decided to come their way. “Let’s go,” Hermione conjured three stretchers for Ron, Dean, and Mulciber. She had already done the same with Abeforth, Umbridge and Rudolphus. They walked out of the creaking front door of the Ministry building and looked across the way to see the others in perfect condition, though staring at the sky above the building in a transfixed daze.

They joined them, Hagrid and Moody grunted, and then Harry and the others looked beyond the building to see a most magnificent scene. A spitting image of a phoenix seemed to be imprinted upon the dark early morning skyline. The dazzling bird shone blue in all its brilliance, glowing upon the entire street and city below, warming the spectator’s hearts. And suddenly, almost as if on cue, a real phoenix, Fawkes no less, came erupting from within it and streaked through the clouds helping to illuminate the amazing scene. And then Fawkes came shooting across the Ministry building, setting aflame the green drapes that blanketed the building. But this was no normal burning to ash for as soon as Fawkes had shot by they erupted in white flames and in no less than a few moments they had become a representation of the Fountain of Magical Brethren. However, upon further awe inspiring inspection, the images of the entities within the depiction were silhouetted and standing in unison around the planet earth.

-Sacsvita, the light mark-

Fawkes circled over a few times, blazing a trail of fire whose sparks turned a ruby red. The bird then flew higher into the air with all its might, getting smaller and smaller the further it got away; and suddenly, without any warning, disappeared entirely.

After some time the image of the phoenix vanished as well and the sun soon began to rise. Harry came back down to earth when asked what happened within the Ministry and he explained away what had gone on.

“So Grindelwald fell through the veil,” Lupin repeated, “His own creation was his own undoing.”

“Did the blue robed henchman fight back?” implored Dean.

“What do you mean, Dean?” asked Dedalus.

“We saw you fighting the henchman once we got to the door, and it looked as though the Ministry stood by itself.” Dean explained the magic, “it was as if a black curtain fell down – “

“– I’ve never heard of such magic.” Tonks was eye balling Dean with curiosity.

Feeling rather confident, Harry spoke. “The wizarding world is safe for now, no longer are there any more menaces to tackle and finish off.” Remus shifted and wanted to say something but chose to remain silent, “We can now live in a world of progress, ushering in the future generations and escorting ourselves to the brink of solitude.” He hugged Ginny and kissed her on the cheek. The morning stars shined their last twinkle and died away, the sky parted and the grey clouds of the early day took their leave. Soon the wizarding world would learn of Harry’s and the Underground’s exploits - how they saved the world and defeated Grindelwald. Harry hugged Ginny again, “It’s a beautiful site and a wonderful new day,” he had broken the silence and startled a few of the others.

“It certainly is,” said Ginny smiling and kissing him on the cheek. “It certainly is.”


THE END


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