They Shook Hands

Year Five

Chapter 1 - Malfeasance at the Ministry

Harry Potter had seen more in his fourteen years than most people saw in a lifetime. Four times he had faced the self-aggrandized Dark Lord, the murdering maniac who called himself Lord Voldemort. Four times Harry had confronted the evil wizard, and four times he had triumphed or escaped. In that sense, Harry was a remarkable wizard - not even his parents had managed that feat.

The loss of his parents had always been a sore spot for Harry. Even though he escaped from his horrible Muggle relatives and now lived with his godfather, Harry still held hate in his heart. When Hagrid, his rescuer from the Muggle world, had told him the verboten name, he'd finally had a target.

It was why Harry so strongly supported the war effort. Now that Voldemort had so openly returned by boldly seizing Azkaban prison, the Ministry was gearing up to fight. Harry was going to do everything he could to make sure the good guys won. He urged all his friends to join the fight. He wrote letters to the editor of the Daily Prophet. He leveraged every ounce of influence his fame afforded him to convince people to swallow their fear and stand up for what was right.

"Ready to go deal with Fudge?" Sirius asked as they finished up breakfast.

"You know it. I don't know why you're so critical of him. He's doing everything Dumbledore suggests for getting everyone ready."

"Call it an inherent distrust of politicians. He's not acting out of nobility. He's just worried about public opinion and if he'll be able to stay Minister now that Voldemort is back."

"Does it really matter what his motives are as long as he does what we want him to?"

"Yes, it does. An opportunist is as dangerous as an enemy, because he might betray you at any point. At least with the Death Eaters we know where they stand."

"I'll make sure he knows that if he goes against us, I'll have Rita crucify him. People love me much more than him."

"Just don't make it too overt. We don't want you arrested for threatening the Minister in his own office."

"I wont make any threats, just promises."

Sirius grinned. "Semantics."

"Some antics? I'm always up for some antics."

"Maybe later. Shall we?"

"Let's."

Leaving the dishes on the table for Kreacher to clean up, Harry and Sirius moved from the dining room up to the drawing room on the second floor. The fire was crackling cheerfully. Sirius took the tin of Floo powder from the mantel and held it out to Harry.

Harry threw the pinch of powder into the flames, causing them to turn a brilliant green. He stepped into the fire, barely feeling the tremendous heat.

"Ministry of Magic!" he yelled, and the world began to spin.

Harry hated this part of Floo travel. He'd much rather Apparate directly to the Ministry, but Sirius hadn't taught him how to Apparate yet. He was hopeful that they might have time for that over the summer vacation.

When the spinning finally stopped, Harry stepped out of the Floo and into the polished marble of the Atrium. He'd never been to the Ministry before. The place was very grandiose. When magic was a part of the equation, feats of architecture were unparalled. Features that would never hold up in a Muggle building.

Sirius was a second behind him. High security was much in evidence. Aurors were on the alert for trouble, and as they approached the security desk, three sets of eyes settled on them.

"Names?" said the official.

"Harry Potter and Sirius Black."

"Purpose?"

"We have an appointment with the Minister."

"Confirmed," said a second official, looking at a schedule.

"Present your wands for identification."

Harry glanced to Sirius, who nodded. He reluctantly handed over his wand. The third official waved a strange medallion over it and jotted down some notes. He did the same for Sirius' wand.

"Proceed."

Sirius led the way to a bank of elevators. There was one with the gate open, so they stepped inside.

"Minister's office," Sirius said to the air.

"Thank you," a disembodied voice said happily. "You have made a simple lift happy to be of service."

"Shut up," Sirius muttered. "That would make me happy."

The elevator took them down to level one.

"Level One. Minister for Magic and support staff."

The door opened smoothly.

"Thank you for giving a humble lift a momentary purpose and the satisfaction of a job well-done. Have a nice day."

"Whose idea was it to make these things talk?" Harry said.

"Someone who obviously never has to use the blasted things. Let's go."

This level reflected the high status of the Ministry people who worked here. The floor was carpeted in a rich purple, and every door was both wide and tall, made of mahogany. Brass plaques one each door were engraved with the name and title of the office-holder. It seemed designed to amplify the importance of the people who worked there and to make those visitors or petitioners feel small.

The Minister's door was open, and he was listening to a short woman wearing pink who was droning on about needing to hire more entry-level staffers just to handle basic functions. When he saw them, Minister Fudge perked up.

"Sirius!" he said with evident relief. "Do come in. Harry, so good to see you again. Thank you for coming. Dolores, I'm afraid we'll have to take this up at another time. Mister Black and Mister Potter have been good enough to come down to discuss public relations. You must excuse us."

Her toad-like face hardened. "Of course, Minister," she simpered. She glared at Harry as she flounced out of the room, though Harry had no idea who she was or how he could have offended her.

"My Senior Undersecretary," Fudge said apologetically. "She's terrific at making sure the wheels turn around here. I couldn't get by without her. She's very persistent, which is usually a good thing, but..."

"I understand completely, Minister," Sirius said smoothly. "It's a good thing she's on our side and not the Death Eaters."

"Quite right, my boy. Quite right. I've tasked her with heading up the task force that will develop the plan to take back our prison. She took the defection of the dementors rather personally and asked to be put in charge. She'll come up with the answer, I have no fear."

"So you wanted to talk about public outreach?"

"Yes. The Daily Prophet is airing speculation that we're just making a lot of noise about You-Know-Who to distract people from other issues. I don't understand how their logic works. My popularity rating has been quite good, so I don't need to pull some stunt to stay in office. I suspect that Death Eater sympathizers are behind it all. I was wondering if you might see clear to make a few public statements supporting the truth."

"We'd be happy to," Harry struck in.

"Excellent. Truly excellent. I was hoping you'd agree. As it happens, I've got a press conference in about twenty minutes. Would you join me? It will be fun to surprise them."

"Sure. That's no problem, right, Sirius?"

"None at all. So tell me, Minister, when will you be authorizing expanded Auror recruitment?"

"I'm trying to wrangle the Wizengamot to get the gold. Auror training is very expensive, as you know. We've had to hold off on running a class for the past couple of years. Amelia has been hounding me, but I told her to lobby the members of the Wizengamot instead. She didn't need to convince me."

They talked for a few more minutes before Fudge got to his feet. "Well, shall we go up? The conference is in the Atrium."

The three men stepped into the lift and went up one level. "Thank you for visiting the Ministry of Magic," the voice said. "Please know that you have made a simple lift feel happy and fulfilled. Have a pleasant day surrounded by light and truth."

In the Atrium, there was a large fountain in the shape of a witch and wizard surrounded by several magical creatures. Bubbling water splashed merrily. In the time since Harry had passed through this place, a small stage and podium had been erected. Several people milled around in front of it, ignoring the chairs.

"Ladies and gentlewizards of the press, thank you for coming today."

The small crowd took their seats.

"The return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came as a great shock to us all, and I regret that we were caught flat-footed. We are well on our way to remedying that situation. I am pleased to inform you that the war effort against the Death Eaters is going well. We will graduate a full class of Aurors within the month. A dozen new Healer positions are available at St. Mungo's. We have made outreach efforts to other magical races, such as the giants, the dwarves, and the goblins. All of our ambassadors have been well-received, and I expect a delegation from the vampires to arrive within a fortnight to discuss a formal alliance. I regret that the Centaur Nation has rebuffed all efforts to engage them, but I am confident in saying that neither will they support You-Know-Who."

Rita Skeeter stood up. "Have any foreign Ministries pledged their support?"

"The French are being most reluctant to offer more than lip service, I'm afraid. In the aftermath of the very successful Triwizard Tournament, I had hoped for more cooperation, but we'll keep working on them. The Spanish and Italians are busy with their own internal problems. As you are surely aware, the Spanish Minister was recently forced from office, and we still don't know who his replacement will be. The Italians have their hands dealing with an upstart Dark wizard who is trying to join You-Know-Who. I have discounted their aid entirely, since they have asked for our help. I am heartened by word I received just this morning from Bonn. The Germans are entirely behind us. They remember Grindelwald all too clearly and their Minister expressed to me that they will do anything and everything to help us. They are sending three squads of their top Aurors to assist with toughening up our training regimen."

"Have the Aurors been cleared to use the Unforgiveables?"

"In part. As you know, the authority for Aurors to use the Unforgiveables during war was authorized by Bartemius Crouch during the last war. It is my judgment that there can be no acceptable use of the Cruciatus by good people, so it is still forbidden. Aurors have, however, been granted freedom to kill or control in the name of the greater good. Such useage will be strictly monitored, and anyone found to have acted improperly will be dealt with."

"How do you respond to allegations that this is all a power-grab on your part to stay in office?"

"I deny it utterly. I have no need to deceive the good people of Great Britain for tawdry political gain."

"What plan does the Ministry have to retake Azkaban?"

"I'm not going to divulge operational details at this time. I think I've amply satisfied your questions. Allow me to introduce to you a man who needs no introduction: Mister Harry Potter."

"Thank you, Minister. Good morning, everyone. I just wanted to say that I support the Ministry and the Minister in all of the actions taken thusfar. The Dark Lord-" Harry didn't want to say the name and cause a panic just then. "-has declared war on our society. He has seduced the dementors to his cause, and his opening gambit is bold but also foolish. He has openly advertised his headquarters. We know where to find him now. The dementors give him an advantage, but we can negate them if every citizen attempts to learn the Patronus Charm. I learned it when I was in my third year, and I successfully cast it in my fourth. You also can learn it if you believe in yourself. I understand that the Ministry has a list of licensed tutors capable of providing the instruction."

"We do, Mister Potter. Thank you for mentioning it. Anyone who wishes to retain the services of a tutor should contact the Ministry. Very soon there will also be classes held here at the Ministry for those who do not have the means to hire. Mister Black?"

"Hello, I'm Sirius Black. Despite my own wrongful incarceration, I stand behind the Ministry one hundred percent. If we stand together and do not allow the forces of evil to fracture our resolve and divide us, we can triumph. Once my godson returns to school, I will be rejoining the Auror department. I have already made a substantial donation to the department coffers to immediately allow for the hiring of more Aurors. I hope to be able to lead a squad."

"Has your escape from Azkaban given you any insight on how to retake the compound?"

"For reasons of operational security, I cannot discuss that at this time."

"Have you encouragoed your godson to go into the Aurors?"

"I certainly have, not that he needs to hear it from me."

Just then there was the distinct pop of Apparition, multiplied a dozen times over.

"Death Eaters!" someone screamed.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green light lanced across the room, striking down Aurors and journalists. Rita Skeeter fell to the floor, her eyes lifeless. Harry stared at her body, stunned to inaction. Rita was his friend. She'd teased him outrageously whenever they spoke together, but he'd always liked her. She was blonde, with striking blue eyes, and he'd harboured somewhat of a boyish crush on her. He knew it was entirely a fantasy, but he had thought about her all the same. Now she was dead, his fantasy forever tainted.

Spellfire began to fly thick and furious. Harry ducked down and looked for Sirius. His godfather hadn't moved. He stood there with a slightly confused expression. He touched his chest, and scarlet blood began to seep out, staining his robes. He wavered and then toppled over.

"Siriues!" screamed Harry. He ran towards his godfather.

Tendrils of magic wrapped around him. Harry fought for all he was worth to escape and get to Sirius, whose body lay in an undignified heap at the podium. It was no use. Soon he was trussed up like a Christmas goose.

He glared helplessly up at the masked Death Eater who stood over him.

"The Dark Lord will be most pleased," said a woman's voice. "Stupefy!"

Harry woke up in a dimly lit cell. He was trapped in a cage of iron bars. He was naked, but he gave no thought to his shame. He was not bound, but the cage had no door. Without his wand, his was trapped. He had no time for tears. He summoned up all his fury and glared at the dark-haired witch who stood nearby.

She had taken off her mask, and Harry remembered her from the courtyard at Azkaban.

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Welcome te Hell, baby Potter. You didn't even try to get away." Her voice was mocking and insincere.

"You bitch," he snarled, feeling the hate swelling in his chest. "I'm going to make you pay for this."

She threw her head back and laughed - though it would more properly be called cackling. Insanity gleamed in her eyes. She stroked his face with one delicate, long-nailed finger.

"Bold words, widdle boy. I look forward to making you rue them. You're in my world now, and the only way you'll leave is in a casket - if there's enough left of you to bury."

The torture began then, and Harry grew hoarse with the screaming. When she bored of the Cruciatus, she began to use a knife. When he bled too much and fainted, she closed his wounds and revived him, pouring a Blood-Replenishing Draught down his throat.

Time ceased to have meaning.

The door of the cell opened then, and several cloaked people entered. Harry weakly raised his head. He could barely see through the haze of pain, but he had been left his glasses.

"My Lord," Bellatriux said reverently.

"Bellatrix, has your labor been fruitful? Will Potter kneel at my feet and accept the Dark Mark?"

"Forgive me, Lord, but he has not broken yet."

"Perhaps it will be beneficial for him to see someone who has."

One of the cloaked figures pushed back his hood. Despair stabbed into Harry's already broken heart as his best mate Draco knelt at Voldemort's feet.

"No," Harry moaned, barely able to talk at all.

"My Lord," Draco rasped. "What would you have of me?"

"I would have you take my Mark as your father once did. To prove your worthiness, you will torture your friend, for all Death Eaters must be heartless."

Draco took his wand from Voldemort and raised it against Harry. There was no emotion in his eyes as he cast the awful spell.

"Crucio!"

Harry writhed, trapped in his cage. The pain in his body was nothing next to the pain in his mind. His best mate had turned on him. The promise he'd made had meant nothing to him.

Draco took the curse off. Harry hung there limply.

"Will you kneel before me, Potter?"

"Lick my cauldron, Mouldyshorts," he gasped.

"Draco, make him pay for that."

"Yes, my Lord. Crucio!"

Harry couldn't even think as pain flooded his brain.

Draco leaned in. "Do you see how foolish it is to resist? The others have. I watched him torture Pansy. She didn't even last ten seconds before she was screaming for death. He gave her to Rabastan instead. He put Imperius on Tim and made him torture Mille and Blaise until they took the Mark. Jenna gave him lip, so he had her flayed alive. Crabbe and Goyle took the Mark immediately."

"Traitors," Harry managed to say. The taste of blood was strong in his mouth, for he'd bitten his tongue.

"Just kneel to him. It'll all be over."

The hatred began to boil inside him. He would never serve the twisted maniac that had killed his parents. Even if he had to die, even if that dying was agonizing, it was still better than life as a slave to evil.

"No!" Harry screamed, tearing his throat yet again.

The monster in his chest flooded out with the word, and the bars of the cage began to glow white-hot. It exploded with a deafening roar, and shards of metal flew razor-sharp in all directions.

Blood bubbled from Draco's mouth as he clutched feebly at his neck.