A slower pace in this chapter - it was a bit harder to write, as it's basically a bridge threading the plot together. Next chapter will be up far sooner! Thanks for reading, and please review!
VII: Two Minutes
Harry
Amy Rogers never saw the green flash that took her life.
It slammed into her, and I saw her body contort with the impact of the spell, her head lolling to one side with the blank expression that only someone taken by the Killing Curse could wear.
And then her body crumpled to the ground.
From upstairs, I heard a cry of rage.
"HE'S MINE!"
Y blasted through one of the walls, levitating himself through with a stolen wand, and conjuring white lightning with his own.
He brought his wand around in a sweeping arc, and tore the first floor to shreds with a ferocity nothing could withstand.
The Death Eater who had killed Amy began to run.
Y dropped his stolen wand - remaining levitated in the middle of the building by some means - and reached out his hand in a snatching motion. The Death Eater collapsed to the floor in a full body-bind.
I did not wait around. A spell whistled past me, and I sprang back into action. I called forth a torrent of blue fire, and directed it down the hall. A black-clad figure shot a slashing beam of purple light towards me. I fired inky black lightning that tore through his curse and blew a hole through his chest.
I heard an explosion from the top floor. X too, was on the attack.
I stepped over a dead Auror, disarmed a Death Eater that rushed towards me and followed with a Killing Curse that hit its mark.
A second explosion came from the top floor, and I looked up to see X crash through the ceiling gripping a kicking Death Eater beneath him. They flew past Y and slammed into the concrete with a sickening crunch.
X stood, and dusted off his robes, before looking at the mangled body of his human crash-pad.
"He should've used a Cushioning Charm," he said casually.
Above us, Y was coming to a descent, levitating the Death Eater he had bound with him.
The Death Eater's eyes were wide with fright.
"You killed her," Y said.
He was eerily calm, his voice holding only the slightest hint of malice.
"I liked her, and you killed her. You killed her."
Y's eyes flashed.
"Crucio."
His voice was quiet. The screams from the Death Eater were anything but.
X looked on, his jaw set.
"She was a hundred, no, a thousand times the person you will ever be. D'you understand that?"
The curse intensified, and the Death Eater's cries grew even louder. He writhed on the floor in pain, his heels knocking against the concrete.
"Would you like to know something about the Cruciatus Curse?" Y said, kneeling. "If my wand comes into contact with your body, the pain increases even more."
"Like this," he said, stabbing his wand down on his victim's knee.
Crack! The kneecap popped, and the Death Eater let out a fresh yell.
"Or this."
The wand was pointed at the Death Eater's crotch. The stench of urine filled the air as he wet himself. The stain on his robes, however, was blood red.
"And did you know that I could stop your heart in the same manner?"
Y moved his wand past the man's chest, however, and repositioned himself to grab the man in a one-armed headlock.
"But that's too easy. If your heart gives out, you're gone. Nice and clean. Pain's over for you. That's what you want. But I've a better idea."
Y's voice was still soft, chillingly so.
"I'm going to put my wand in your ear."
A moan came from the man on the floor. Even in his lucid state, he understood.
"The ear is quite a remarkable part of the human body. It has an attachment to several prominent nerves, and its proximity to the brain means that it is particularly sensitive to pain."
Meticulously, Y pressed his wand into the Death Eater's ear canal.
"Welcome to the last two minutes of your life."
I averted my eyes.
"Crucio."
I could hear the man as he thrashed about on the floor, held down only by Y's vice-grip around his neck. I looked back to see his back impossibly arched, and spasms shoot through him as he struggled in vain. His feet drummed an unsteady beat on the floor. The blood-curling scream that pierced the air was unbearable to listen to. Suddenly, his left eye burst in it's socket, followed shortly by the other.
After what seemed like an age, the scream stopped, and I witnessed the last of his death throes. Blood was still trickling from his ears and nose, and white froth had formed at the corners of his mouth. Flecks of spittle and blood had splattered his robes.
"Can we get a move on now?" said X, seemingly unfazed.
"Sure," Y replied, standing up and dusting his robes down. He fixed us with a questioning expression. "What's next?"
X started to walk away, not replying. I turned to follow, stealing one last look at the body that before Y had met, was still a recognisable, living person.
Once again, I was reminded of the true nature of the man walking ahead of me. He could crack a joke about anything, relax in an armchair with a Butterbeer like a student at a Quidditch Party, peruse the morning paper with a cup of tea, or take a drag on a cigar after a long day with ease. I'd seen him do all these things.
But with that same unnerving ease, I'd seen him take a life with the Cruciatus Curse in a way so horrific that it would stay, scarred into my memory, forever.
Ginny
"Ginny, Amy Rogers was killed last night," said Hermione over breakfast.
"How?" I said, shocked. A wave of sadness washed over me.
"She was taking part in an MLE raid. The Death Eaters knew they were coming. They were ambushed."
"Oh."
It was all I could say.
"I mean, I was only talking to her the other day. It's all so surreal," said Hermione.
"It's terrible."
I felt a keen sense of loss. A good person was no longer with us.
"The service is tomorrow morning. We should go."
"Yeah," I nodded.
Hermione sighed.
"Part of me thought that this would be easier now, Ginny. But it's not. You never get used to death."
The next day, Hermione and I arrived at the service. Grey skies accompanied patchy rain. The atmosphere was thoroughly gloomy.
I saw an elderly couple were dressed in sullen black. Tears were running down the woman's face. Perhaps they were her parents.
Hermione and I took a couple of seats close to the back.
"Ron wanted to come, but he couldn't find enough cover at the shop," Hermione said, making small talk.
"Why doesn't he take an advisor position at the Ministry? I heard that he was offered one," I asked, realising with a pang of disappointment that I hadn't spoken or written to my closest brother in a long time.
"He said some things are more important than advising the Ministry," Hermione answered, a peculiar note of pride in her voice.
"Yeah…how are you two, anyway?"
Hermione smiled. It stood out in stark contrast to the solemn occasion.
"We're good. It just feels right, being with him."
I made a face, and she giggled.
"Hermione, when are you going to bring back your parents?"
"When it's safe."
Her eyes were somewhere far away.
I looked around. There were a fair number of senior officials. I saw my Dad speaking with a couple of red-clad Aurors.
And at the back, standing against the wall were two Unspeakables, clad in dark blue robes with silver cuffs.
Both had identical grim looks on their faces.
Shortly, the service began. Kingsley took the podium.
Camera flashes went off as he begun.
"Today is a somber day for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Auror Office. Today is a somber day for us all. In our sorrow, we celebrate the life of Amy Rogers, mourn her passing, and remember her heroism."
"This morning, a reporter asked me: how many of us will come home in body bags?"
"My answer is this: no more."
"Today, I am pleased to announce that the Rogers Bill will be sent to the Wizengamot. It will give the MLE greater powers against the forces of evil. It will also increase the minimum penalty for assaulting or injuring a MLE Officer - be they Auror, Hitwizard or Squad Member."
Flash. Flash.
More cameras.
This wasn't a funeral. It was a press conference.
I felt sick.
Kingsley resumed speaking:
"Amy Rogers was tough, but had a great kindness inside her. Those who knew her can attest to that."
"She was protector of the weak, an ally of liberty, and a enemy of evil. Her death in battle was untimely, and her sacrifice an example to us all. She will forever be remembered by all of us as a champion of justice."
"Thank you."
He sat to a round of applause. I did not join in.
After the service, Hermione and I mingled.
Kingsley walked over to us
"Hello, Hermione, Ginny," he greeted in his deep timbre.
"Hi Minister," I replied, pointedly polite.
"Did you know Amy?" Kingsley asked, curiousity evident on his face.
"We met a few times. She gave me some advice on the MLE. It felt right to pay our respects," Hermione said simply.
He nodded.
"I'm sure she would've appreciated you coming today. It was good to see you both," he said, moving away to begin a conversation with a grey-haired warlock.
"Well, that was pleasant," I said sourly.
"Mmm," Hermione murmured in agreement.
That same afternoon, Y took a seat in Kingsley's office.
"How did you do it?" asked the Minister for Magic, his voice betraying troubled thoughts.
"I let the Death Eater kill her," Y replied simply. "I could've stopped it. I chose not to."
"Harry must never know," Kingsley said.
"I know," replied Y. "I know the game. And I know the stakes."
"Good. If he was to find out, I don't know what he'd do."
"He won't ask. I used the Cruciatus to kill the Death Eater."
A sickened look crossed Kingsley's face.
"Anyone else would serve a life sentence in Azkaban for that," the Minister admonished.
"We have a deal Kingsley. If X or I die, we don't get a gushy farewell at a Ministry funeral. We just get a few feet of earth. No one will remember us. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather face opponents who are terror-stricken about hearing the shit we're prepared to do to them."
"How did Harry take it?"
"Hated it. Could see it on his face. But he didn't object."
"No?"
"He no longer questions our kills, Kingsley. He is less remorseful, less hesitant. He is becoming more like us, a little at a time."
"The student has learned from his masters," Kingsley commented.
"He's getting stronger too. Soon, his power will rival yours or mine," Y added. "And in some ways already, his strength is beyond our own."
"Is he ready?" questioned the Minister.
"Only time will tell."
Harry
I did not attend Amy's funeral.
I could not.
I had failed her. It had been my job to protect her, and I had been more focused on fighting Death Eaters than defending her.
I reminded myself that I had not killed Amy. The blame belonged with the Death Eater that had cast the Killing Curse.
And he had paid the price for his actions. Y's vengeance was an awful thing to behold.
Trying to banish all thoughts of the incident from my head, I went back to studying our most recent intelligence.
Later, Kingsley looked up from his work at the sound of a knock on his office door.
"Come in," he called out. X entered.
"I've got your numbers," said the Unspeakable, taking a seat.
"What do they say?"
"You're doing well. You're tough on dark magic, tough on crime, and it helps that you're a war hero. And the dip from dar-jach disappeared when the Aurors took out the Death Eaters responsible."
X flicked through a few sheets of parchment.
"80% think that you're a strong leader. Other Ministers would kill to have that kind of clout."
"However, a considerable number dislike that you're secretive."
"What's considerable?"
"27%"
"And your aloof numbers haven't dropped either. But overwhelmingly, you're still seen as the best man for the job."
"Moreover, with Arthur on the ticket, that boosts your trust, and everyman appeal."
"Now, the business end. What would Wrath of Merlin do to my numbers?" asked Kingsley.
"If it came out, it would be disastrous."
"Trust would drop through the floor. Even with Arthur. It'd be seen as massive betrayal of the wizarding population."
"Merlin."
"And that's not the worst part. Most wouldn't vote for you again."
"It's not surprising, after what happened in the war. The Ministry of Magic run like a secretive dictatorship, a millennia of due process and tradition disregarded by the very people who fought to save it."
"Fuck, even Fudge wouldn't pull the shit we're trying to pull."
"You've got to win an election in 18 months time."
"So if Wrath of Merlin comes out, how do I win?"
"Harry is your ticket home. An endorsement from Harry should keep you safe."
"I can't keep using him. What happens if the public turn against him? It's happened before."
"Harry can weather it better than you can. He's the saviour of the wizarding world. People don't forget that in a hurry."
"Yeah," said Kingsley, deep in thought.
"Where is he?"
"Reading up on the Azkaban prisoners down in the Department. We're headed there to do some interrogation."
"Let me know how it goes."
X left the Minister for Magic alone, and like so many times in his solitude, Kingsley wondered if he was indeed doing the right thing.
At the end of her day, Hermione flooed from the Atrium to Diagon Alley and walked the short distance to her flat. Opening her door, she found a package wrapped in brown paper lying on the floor. A note was attached.
Dear Hermione,
Here's the information I was telling you about. Most of it's classified, and I could potentially do time in The Holt if this is linked back to me. I don't need to stress how important it is to keep it safe.
We're about to undertake an MLE raid, so I'll discuss this with you further when I return.
Best,
Amy
Hermione paused, before folding the note up carefully.
This was Amy's parting gift. A dual sensation of sadness and excitement washed over the brown haired witch. Sadness for the woman who had made the ultimate sacrifice; excitement for the legacy she had left behind, that it might hold the key to the mystery of Harry's whereabouts.
Tearing open the brown packaging, Hermione began to read.
A/N: As a reminder to anyone unsure, 'MLE' refers to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
When fleshing the wizarding world out, I wanted to add places that would fit into the world. An example of this is Rue Magique - it makes sense that the French have their own Diagon Alley of sorts.
"The Holt" is an MLE stronghold in the South of England along the lines of 1 Police Plaza in NYC, but separate from the Ministry of Magic itself. JKR also mentioned other prisons beside Azkaban in one of her interviews (I think) so I've created "Barden's Keep" as a prison on the mainland.
I also have X in charge of polling for Kingsley. I figure a regular pollster can't know about Wrath of Merlin, or ask subtle questions relating to it. Numbers are a crucial element in politics, and the political nature of the Ministry is an area I aim to cover in this story, because I've never read anything that does look into it (of course, if anyone does know of such a story, please let me know).
