Harry awoke the next morning tired and grouchy. He had expended a huge amount of magic two days prior, and hadn't allowed himself much of a break in a long time. He and Sirius had done some celebrating of their own after the Wizengamot meeting, and they regarded each other across the breakfast table with bleary eyes and little to say.

It was guilt that led Harry to speak. "I might not have been quite fair in what I told you about what's going to happen next," he said.

Sirius sighed. "Is somebody going to try to kill me?" he asked, not very seriously.

"It's going to get pretty ugly for Crouch soon. I doubt he survives as minister."

Sirius focused on his coffee cup for a moment. "Don't tell me. He's not a Death Eater himself, no way. He's too much of a zealot to have been taking bribes. It wouldn't matter if he'd done something completely incompetent, because he won the war anyways. His kid – oh, Merlin. His kid."

Harry nodded. "Bad case of rebellion."

"So what happens next?"

"I have no idea. I don't even have a candidate in mind. But before this all goes to hell, we have a job to do." Harry dumped more sugar in his own coffee, and stirred it glumly.

Sirius looked a little more animated. "It's all going to hell today. They've been slow to announce the identities of the prisoners, but it'll come out, even if they're trying to suppress it. This could really tear the Ministry apart. I hope he does the honorable thing and resigns."

"Me too. But look, there's a lot to do. There are two Horcruxes to retrieve, and then we should figure out how we're going to destroy them."

"You don't know?" Sirius fairly shouted.

Harry shook his head. "Relax, I know of a few methods. It's just a matter of which is the most convenient."

Sirius put his cup down a little harder than necessary. "All right. What do we have to do?"

Harry grinned at him. "You figure out who the next Minister of Magic is, and what to do with Crouch. I'm going back to Riddle Manor. I'll meet you at the flat at lunchtime."


It hadn't been long since Harry had retrieved another version of the ring Horcrux, and the traps and protections were fresh in his mind. He proceeded with caution, but finding and bagging the ring was no real challenge, and he was back at the flat well before his agreed-upon meeting time with Sirius.

He put the bag with the others, and stopped for a moment. He had the ring, the locket, and the diary, as well as the piece of amber imbued with Voldemort's spirit. They were going to have to figure out how to get the cup. Nagini wasn't a Horcrux yet, and little Harry hadn't seen his second Halloween. So why was there an extra bag?

When he realized which one was missing, he cursed aloud. The diadem. That meant a trip to Hogwarts, and in all likelihood, another meeting with Dumbledore.


He took the Floo to the Three Broomsticks before he had time to change his mind, and stomped down the path, dreading the upcoming conversation. Dumbledore seemed like a bigger problem to him than Crouch, and he had fewer confidants with whom to discuss the troublesome Headmaster. The walk gave him a little time to ponder what, exactly, might be motivating Dumbledore. He was only the Headmaster here, not the Chief Warlock, though Harry had no idea about his position in the ICW. It was possible that he was still consolidating his power, and might not directly oppose the changes that Harry wanted to see. But even if that were the case, could Harry afford to leave him in any kind of position of power?

He arrived at the castle gates before he reached any kind of conclusion. "Expecto Patronum," he muttered, and sent Prongs ahead to warn Dumbledore of his arrival. He had gotten no response by the time he arrived at the gargoyle, but he bit back his irritation and forced himself to address it politely. There was no reason to take his irritation out on Hogwarts. "I believe the Headmaster is expecting me," he said to the impassive stone face.

The silence that greeted his statement didn't do anything to lower his blood pressure, but it was only a matter of seconds before the gargoyle slid aside and he ascended the staircase. Before opening the door, he paused to consider whether he was making a mistake coming alone. Would he be met with hexes? Could he withstand a full-force Legillimency assault? He drew his wand, then sighed and put it away.

Dumbledore was alone in the office, dwarfed behind his massive desk. Harry was momentarily taken aback by his apparent frailty, before deciding that it must be part of his act. Dumbledore peered at him over his glasses. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Luthor?" he asked.

"We have work left to do. Or rather, I do. You were brilliant in the fight, Headmaster," Harry said.

"You were quite effective yourself." The old man sighed. "It was hard to watch the end of a man who once had so much potential. But the world will be a better place without him."

"That wasn't his end, Headmaster. You know that as well as I do," Harry said, almost gently.

"As you said, we have work left to do. Do you require my aid?"

"Just your permission. Tom left a piece of his soul in the school, and I would like to retrieve it," Harry explained.

Dumbledore started visibly. "A Horcrux in my school? Abominable. Where did he hide it?"

Harry swallowed a grin. "With all due respect, it might spoil part of the fun of being Headmaster if I told you."

"Not the Chamber of Secrets, then." Dumbledore stared into nothing for a moment, trying to puzzle it out, then looked back at Harry. "You have said little to convince me to trust you, but your deeds tell a different story." He folded his hands. "Go. Retrieve the Horcrux, and leave a joyful mystery behind to replace a deadly one." Harry stood, but Dumbledore fixed him with a stare. "What do you plan to do with them?" he asked. His tone was soft, but the hairs on the back of Harry's neck rose.

"I plan to destroy them. I haven't decided how, but there are a few ways," Harry said firmly.

"I think it wise if we allow the prophecy to be fulfilled."

Harry's heart sank, but he tried to reason with Dumbledore. "I'm the one in the prophecy. I can fulfill it. He marked me as an equal, and the power he knows not is that I know where all his Horcruxes are."

Dumbledore shook his head. "You are not from this world. The prophecy was not about you."

"The prophecy isn't about anybody, then. Did he ever get around to marking Harry, or Neville? You can't mean to let him do it. A thousand years from now, some other Dark Lord will be defeated by a kid born in July, and the prophecy will be fulfilled." Harry's argument had no apparent effect on Dumbledore. In fact, he was still as a statue.

"If we attempt to work around the prophecy, the repercussions are unpredictable. Fulfill it, and we stand on solid ground. Ignore it, and all may be lost." Dumbledore's voice was soft and mesmerizing, but Harry was unmoved.

"Harry and Neville are barely a year old. They're not ready to play with matches, let alone pieces of Riddle's soul. The prophecy is meaningless."

Dumbledore sat back, and his voice returned to normal. "Let us discuss this further before you make any permanent decisions."

Harry frowned. "It should be done soon. But let's collect the Horcruxes before we argue about what to do with them."

At Dumbledore's acquiescence, he left the office and jogged up to the Room of Requirement. The Horcrux was where he remembered it, and he sealed it safely in one of Amy's bags. He returned to the Headmaster's office to report his success, only to see James Potter's head sticking through the Floo.

"Nobody's sure who's in charge here, and it's all starting to look a bit dangerous," James was saying as he entered. "Ah, Luthor, glad you're here. Do you know where Sirius is?"

"He might be at the Ministry already. I think he was headed there today. What happened?" Harry asked, although he had a pretty good idea.

"One of the Death Eaters in custody turned out to be Crouch's son. He resigned on the spot. We've got a prison full of very dangerous people, a whole bunch of powerful Death Eater sympathizers still free, and nobody's running the show," James explained shortly.

Harry had an idea. "James, can you get in touch with Frank Longbottom?"

"He's on duty."

"I've got a very important job for him. Find him. I'll meet you in the DMLE office at the Ministry." James nodded, and his head disappeared.

Harry headed for the fireplace, then turned back to Dumbledore, one hand on the mantle. "Before I forget, you mentioned the Chamber of Secrets. There's a giant basilisk down there. I'm not sure what happens when there's no heir of Slytherin, so you might want to think about how to get rid of it. You know, for the students' safety." He threw in a handful of Floo Powder, called out, "Ministry of Magic," and left.


James hadn't been exaggerating. The Ministry was a madhouse, with Aurors watching the incoming Floos, and a scrum of reporters at the checkpoint. Harry made his way through, and into the Ministry proper. Hit Wizards patrolled the hallways, wands drawn. The reception area of the DMLE suite was quiet, but the receptionist watched him like a hawk. He was glad when James and Frank showed up a few minutes later.

"We'll be in conference room three, Yvette," Frank said, leading them down a hallway. She frowned and nodded.

They sat down, and Frank looked at Harry sternly. "Luthor. A little warning would have been nice."

"Sorry about that," Harry said. "Despite his son, he probably was the best man for the job. Or at least the best one who could get elected."

Frank and James shared a look. It was James who finally asked, "What did you want today?"

"Voldemort gave a piece of his soul to Bellatrix Lestrange for safekeeping. I believe it's in her Gringotts vault." He watched their faces fall. "I think we might be able to take advantage of the chaos to get our hands on it."

"Gringotts isn't in chaos. It's business as usual there," Frank objected.

"Has the Wizengamot gotten around to repealing any of the special laws they passed last week?" Harry asked. Frank and James shook their heads. "So it's legal for an Auror to use an Unforgiveable on a Death Eater?" They nodded. "Frank, can you put Bellatrix under the Imperius and get her to fetch something from her vault?"

"You have got to be kidding me," shouted James. "Frank, this is insane. Don't listen to him."

"James, I don't like it either, but it's the only way I see to get this done," Harry said, trying hard to remain calm. "Breaking into Gringotts is hard, and getting caught would be poisonous for Goblin relations. The Wizengamot is on a knife's edge right now. We could push for massive reparations, or DMLE searches of family vaults for cursed items, and try to get the cup that way. But we'll probably lose, and we might end up swinging the pendulum back to the Death Eater sympathizers. This is a legal way to get the last piece of Voldemort's soul back, right now."

"Look, this is not an option," James answered, his voice lower but still urgent. "We don't use Unforgiveables, even if the Wizengamot says it's OK. You were as disgusted by that law as I was. And it sounds like you don't even have the courage to do it yourself."

"I think I could do it," Harry said. "But I'd rather work within the bounds of the law, if I can." He paused. "Look, I see where you're coming from. But there's a difference between the Imperius and the Cruciatus. We're not torturing her, we're just forcing her to give us something. And it's not like we're using it for fun, or for personal gain."

James didn't back down. "That's the worst justification I've ever heard. There may be a difference in the results, but there's no difference in the effect on the caster. Do you know what using Unforgiveables does to you? How do you think Bellatrix got to be such a lunatic?"

"I'm not suggesting we make a habit of it. I just don't have another solution here."

"This is ridiculous," James started, but Frank laid a hand on his shoulder.

"James," he said quietly. "I think I should do it."

"What?" James looked almost betrayed.

"He's right. It's the best solution. I don't want to go to bed tonight, and tomorrow night, and the night after that, knowing that Voldemort's not really gone. We can finish this, James."

"At the cost of your soul, Frank. We'll find another way," James pleaded, anguish evident on his face.

Frank shook his head slowly. "There's no other way, unless you want to break in."

Harry remained silent as James put his head in his hands. "Frank, please. Think about this a little. We'll find another way. The cost is too high."

"The cost is high. But I'm doing it to protect my son. It's for Neville, James." Frank looked James straight in the eye. "Whatever happens to me, it's worth it to protect Neville."

James sagged in defeat. "Let's take it to Bones, at least. I don't want this coming back to haunt you."


Amelia Bones was shocked at first, but Harry had already told her that Voldemort was not yet defeated. After a short discussion, she gave them her permission. Her only suggestion was that they use a different Lestrange. "Keeping Bellatrix under the Imperius would be like keeping a hornet's nest under your cloak," she had said, and so she led them to the cell containing Rodolphus Lestrange.


They made a conspicuous procession through Gringotts, with Frank in his Auror robes, a blank-faced Rodolphus making monotone requests of the goblins, and an edgy Harry forcing himself to remember not to draw his wand. But once again, the task proved simple enough. The goblins either didn't recognize the obvious symptoms of the Imperius curse, or didn't care what one human did to another. Hufflepuff's cup was where they knew it was, and Lestrange was able to navigate through the traps without getting himself killed. They had bagged the cup and returned to the Ministry inside two hours.

When they returned Lestrange to his cell, Frank slammed the door and dropped the curse in one exhausted motion. Instantly the man came alive. "You filthy thieves!" he snarled. "I always knew you were a blood traitor, Longbottom, but—"

"Obliviate," Frank intoned. Lestrange blinked, shook himself, and retreated to the corner of his cell, where he watched them warily. Harry followed Frank up the stairs and back to the DMLE offices.

Frank held it together while they reported their success to Madam Bones, but by the time they got back to a fretful James Potter, Harry was steering him around by the elbow. He collapsed at the table, ashen-faced.

"You were right, James," he said, his voice shaky. "It takes a hell of a toll on you."

"I wish we'd found a better way," James replied. "But we owe you a lot. Thank you, Frank."

Frank raised his head. "I'm glad you feel that way. I thought you'd hate me. Hell, I hate myself right now. Don't think there's a hot enough shower in the world to make me clean."

"Go home. Go see Alice and Neville," Harry encouraged him.

Frank snorted wearily. "Not today, I don't think. Not with the Minister out." His eyes went far away for a moment, then refocused. "At the end of Auror training, they give you a speech about the temptations of the Dark Arts. It's good for us to hear; you start to feel invincible by the end of training, and it helps to have somebody who knows how good you are, and treats you like an adult, remind you that the Dark Arts have a high price. Moody gave it last year, and he made it stick in our heads. But I think I could do a pretty credible job myself right now."


It was closer to dinner time when Harry finally met up with Sirius, but he was happy enough with his day. "Three," he said, holding up three fingers. "I got three Horcruxes today. What did you do?"

Sirius snorted. "I didn't get three of anything. It's a bloody mess right now. Parkinson's going to run, but he's not going to get any support. Some glorified file clerk by the name of Cornelius Fudge is going to run. People seem to like him, but he looks like a weasel to me. Dumbledore won't say anything, but if he runs, nobody else on the Light side will jump in. I don't know what's going to happen."

Harry frowned. "Fudge is bad news. You might as well take the Death Eater; at least you'd know where you stand. What about Amelia Bones?"

Sirius shook his head. "I like her, but she's too young and inexperienced. She's only been DMLE Head for a week. She's not ready to be Minister."

Harry thought for a minute. "How long do we have to find a candidate?"

Sirius glanced at his watch. "About three hours. Emergency meeting tonight. I would never have taken my seat if I knew we were going to have this many meetings."

"Bugger that," Harry said.

"I know. I mean, we won the war, can't we take a week off?" Sirius said in mock indignation.

"No, I mean, bugger tonight's meeting. I've got a date. Pick out a good Minister for me, Sirius, because I won't be there."


Harry and Sirius met back at Sirius' flat around midnight. Harry was visibly giddy, while Sirius was wearing a look of exhausted triumph. The two men eyed each other, both beginning to smirk slightly, until Harry burst into a chuckle, and Sirius spoke. "OK, you go first," he said. "I promise not to ruin your good mood."

"It was a really good date," Harry said.

"Then what are you doing here? Or is Amy in my room, sound asleep?"

Harry frowned, or tried to, but it came out more like a pout. "It was just our first date, Sirius. Plenty of time for sleepovers later. But it was great. We went completely Muggle. I really wanted to try Indian food, and she didn't know any better, so we just picked a place in London. Have you ever heard of Vindaloo?" Sirius shrugged. "Well, it turns out that I can't do a highly-localized numbing charm wandlessly when my whole face is on fire, so that bit was kind of a disaster. But she'd gotten something lovely and creamy, so we shared that, and dared each other to take bites of my Vindaloo. Then we went to the cinema – ever been?"

Sirius shook his head. "Lily's always banging on about it, but I've never managed to go. She wouldn't take all of us – said we'd end up in jail or worse – and I never go Muggle on my own."

"We saw a film called 'Airplane!', which I think I've heard of. She said she was curious about airplanes. It's supposed to be funny—well, it is funny. Very funny. But she found the whole thing quite terrifying, so that bit was sort of a disaster too, except that she spent half the time with her head buried in my chest. So that was pretty nice."

Sirius looked somewhat mystified. "You scared the life out of her, and she rewarded you by burying her head in your chest?"

"I didn't scare her, the film did. Something about the inflatable golem—" Sirius blanched. "Look, never mind. The point is, she didn't hold it against me. Then we went to a pub."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "A Muggle pub? With Muggle drinks?"

"Yes. Ever had Muggle drinks?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I have, I'm not a complete barbarian. They're all right, I suppose. Not very sweet."

"Right. Well, she refused to drink anything called 'bitter' or 'stout,' but she liked the cider all right. She hated the smoking, though, so that would have been a disaster, except my wandless Bubblehead Charm is actually very good. I think that impressed her. And we just talked, for a long time. It was really nice. I learned a lot about you, actually, and your best friends."

Sirius grinned. "All lies, I assure you. She wasn't even a prefect, so she wouldn't have had access to our detention records."

"She thought you were funny," Harry said. He shrugged. "I think you're funny, too. And she listened to me – I had to pretend that all my stories happened somewhere other than Hogwarts, but it was nice to talk about them with someone who understood. It was just a good conversation."

Sirius half-buried a grin. "And then what happened?"

"Oh, I took her home." Harry frowned again, more convincingly. "You're not getting any details from me." He paused. "OK, I kissed her goodnight, and then Apparated halfway across the country, five times in a row."

"You sound like your mother," Sirius said, laughing out loud. At Harry's annoyed look, he explained, "No, really. Her first few dates with James all went wrong one way or another, but it just made her like him all the more. He'd be half out of his mind with worry that she'd never speak to him again, and she'd just laugh it off and hold his arm a little tighter." His smile turned a little wry. "Of course, the time it was my fault, she just about hexed my eyebrows off. You see, it turns out that a wet-start firework—" but Harry cut him off, not wanting to hear any more.

"I hope you're right," he said. "Anyway, I'm seeing her again soon, and I'm happy. What's your news?"

"Oh, nothing," Sirius smirked. "I just got Frank's mum elected Minister."

"Augusta Longbottom?" Harry asked. "Was that wise, do you think?"

"Well, she can't be bullied, and she can't be bribed, and she's not a blood purist." Harry looked skeptical. "Sure, she's traditional, but she's not prejudiced about it. She went to your parents' wedding, and danced with James." He had to pause for Harry's astonished laughter. "I think she would have let Frank marry Lily, and I know for a fact she'd hire Lily in a minute. Besides, her speech last night made her quite popular."

Harry nodded. "All right, I can see how she'd be a good choice. What did Dumbledore think?"

Sirius looked pained. "He didn't say a thing. Declined the nomination, didn't make a speech, nothing. I have no idea what's going on in his head."

"Me neither," said Harry, shaking his head. "Me neither. But we'll get to talk to him soon. We have all the pieces of Voldemort's soul, and we should really do something with them."


Author's note: If you're disappointed with how easily Harry deals with the Horcruxes in this story, you might want to check out Voice of the Nephilim's recently-completed story, The Unforgiving Minute. (Be warned, though, it goes to much, much darker places than this one.)