Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine
Chapter 10: Lament – Part I: The Line
A little before 8:00 A.M, Thursday June 27th 1996
Amelia sat quietly as wizards and witches congregated about the courtroom before the trial's start. Her face was hard and her eyes vacant as several others passed by and they simply assumed she was preparing herself for the trial ahead. Amelia's animosity towards injustice was well known within the Wizengamot but lately, more and more of her words were falling on deaf ears.
'Always. We're always being ignored.'
Since leaving Tonks last night, her mind refused to rest and for once, her body agreed. After some debate on various factors, mostly regarding secrecy, Amelia decided to find Alec now instead of waiting for morning's first light. When she got to his house, several blocks deep in Muggle England from the corner of Whitehall; literally the Ministry's back yard, she found a an empty building, plenty of blood and no sign of him.
She did discover an active Fidelius however; the very same erected by Alec several years prior when he first moved in. The intricacies behind the wards at this house were as familiar to her as those on the Bones residence and the same could be said for Alec and her ancestral home.
A tear threatened to escape but she held firm.
They had lived together for a time after Hogwarts, blissful few months that they were. Then Voldemort made his entrance and unlike others, Alec and Amelia recognized the threat so they joined the Auror Corps to counter it.
They were the 'AA Division' and the reputation for their skill and ruthlessness was well known. Never a kinder pair of hearts to work with but if you were on the wrong side of the fence, they were the worst sort of demons you could run into. This ability, this rare level of combined skill was on par with the likes of the Potters and Longbottoms, Dumbledore and Moody, and it was also partly responsible for the pair's initial downfall.
After Voldemort was defeated by the Boy-Who-Lived, Crouch Sr. made sure to split the Auror Corp's best team apart. The mogul wouldn't afford any possible contention from within so Amelia was sent into the bowels of the Ministry and Alec on a global relations campaign to 'better' the ties of magical communities. They had been separated for years and due to Crouch's manipulations, contact between them was completely severed. Corrupt though he may be, Crouch was damn good at getting exactly what he wanted.
Amelia bit back the surge of emotion from her memories.
Despite those years of hell being over, it left scars that were still trying to mend. Crouch's death spurred an unnatural amount of activity and many directives still in standing by his word were abolished. Alec was allowed back into England and he settled quickly, assuming his position on the Board and shortly thereafter, seeking Amelia out.
In the next several months, they faced their demons. After so much pain and sacrifice, Amelia could finally say with complete certainty things were as they should have been and likely would have if Voldemort never appeared. To protect this sacred thing, they kept their relationship very low key, going to odd extremes to do so. In this way, they believed they were protecting the other.
Now Alec was missing again.
Amelia shut her eyes as her throat clenched tightly. She wanted to scream as those feelings of helplessness from all those years ago started to surround her once more. 'One step at a time,' she said to herself. 'When things get rough and complicated, the last thing you allow yourself to do is panic. Stop. Breath. Pick. Solve. Repeat.' It was a mantra Alec had often used in tight situations. 'Stop to assess your situation, Breath twice and calm your emotions. Pick the most glaring problem, Solve it and then Repeat.'
Amelia sighed heavily and looked out over the courtroom.
There was still a light flurry of activity going on. Most of the Wizengamot were present and to her disappointment, there weren't many citizens in attendance. The trial was public and an important one. To see so few come out and witness these events struck an already sensitive chord.
Her anger, being on a hair's trigger, started to boil. For all the cries of the Wizarding populace begging for salvation, they had an infuriating way of following it up. Maybe if they showed more interest in their safety than simple words of outrage and howlers or by filling out lopsided polls from The Prophet, then maybe they wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe she and Alec wouldn't have had to work so hard to protect them in the first place.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please find your seats," said Fudge, looking smug in the Chief Warlock's seat. "The proceedings shall begin shortly."
A murmur of agreement sounded throughout the courtroom and people began to take their seats. Amelia's face was blank and impassive but inside, her darker half was burning acidic holes into the body of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Rarely did she feel such an all consuming rage and Amelia wagered that given the opportunity, Kingsley would be worth using some of her special spells, that of course being after the mind breaking interrogation.
There had been one signature at Alec's destroyed home and only one other knew his house inside and out like her; a friend of Alec's, one whom he met while on his so called diplomatic ventures. One he had a hard time accepting was a Death Eater even though they had argued over the matter incessantly.
Amelia's grip tightened around her wand, threatening to crack it.
Part of that arguing was her own fault. Amelia hadn't lied when she told Tonks Kingsley was being watched. This much was true but beyond her own personal investigation, Amelia had no actual evidence to go by, just her gut and a number of odd coincidences. Whatever Alec and Kinsley had gone through during their travels must have cemented Alec's faith in him.
'You backstabbing bastard… I knew I should have thrown you up against the wall. I should have interrogated you like I wanted to.'
"Order!" called Fudge as he beat the gavel on the podium. "This emergency session of the Wizengamot is now in session. Given the dire circumstances of this meeting, I shall act as Chief Warlock and Dolores Umbridge shall stand as Minister."
Amelia's eyes turned to the despicable women, still barely hiding her rage but unfortunately, there was little else she could do. Alec's disappearance created a monster of a wrinkle in the fabric of what was supposed to be a quick arrest this morning. Not another soul, save for Alec and Tonks knew of the warrant's existence and it was supposed to remain that way for several more hours.
'Or maybe there was another…' she thought as it would create motive behind Alec's hushed removal.
Seething was something Amelia didn't do often and in this case she so desperately wanted to make an exception and tear apart whatever Fudge and his miscreants might propose. For too long they struggled to make headway in this government and while some progress was achieved, there wasn't nearly enough of it.
She inhaled slowly and for several agonizing seconds, Amelia strafed the line. She was tired, she was hurting, she was angry and she was ready, ready to throw it all in the air. How would it be different she reasoned, from any other day?
She could continue to sit quietly, see where the botched trial would inevitably go. She could be vocal, declaring the unfairness of it all and accept the ridicule that would undoubtedly follow or she could do something.
Do something different.
In her pocket, Amelia fingered the knut Tonks had turned into a portkey. Crouch had taught her the shadows were just as dangerous as the objects which cast them. What she was witnessing now was nothing more than an outcome long since planned for and Alec's disappearance only hardened her belief.
One way or another, there would be war. It was just a matter of when.
X
Fudge beat the gavel several times and then waited for the murmuring to stop. Overall he was pleased with the way things had turned out. Despite the slip up with the DMLE catching wind of the break-in along with the Order showing up, everything was progressing as scheduled. Lucius would be most pleased with his work and hopefully, it would sit well with the power players further up.
His firm smile was replaced with an annoyed frown when he looked over the small congregation of citizens who turned up at this early morning hour. Most sessions of the Wizengamot were public events so as to promote unity between the rulers and the ruled. This was something he had tried to change for years but Dumbledore's stance on the topic allowed little room for him to push his motives forward.
Fortunately, that would soon change.
"Order!" he called one more time and that seemed to get everyone quiet. "We are here to determine the fate of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, along with his associated duties and titles. We have collected evidence on the accused and have eye witness accounts from acting Minister Umbridge as well as other evidence supplied by noted members of society. Such members including Lucius Malfoy, who has stated…"
A man in a tattered cloak with its hood drawn sat in a corner of the courtroom, listening to the various 'well-to-do' people slander Albus' name and achievements. He frowned as they systematically went through every action Albus took when he was Headmaster and spun it to their own designs. In short work they made him look like a fool who had no understanding of what it meant to be a leader.
The man scoffed at these allegations. One item in particular made it obvious, to him anyway, that the trial was a complete sham. The handling of Dementors amongst children was a deplorable decision to begin with, one Albus tried and failed to revoke. It was the Board and the Ministry that endorsed the idea of placing them at Hogwarts and it would appear they were going to omit such a tiny detail.
'Bloody convenient that is.'
His attention was drawn to Fudge as the corrupt man casually called for rebuttals. He was sure had it not been procedure, Fudge would have skipped it altogether. A smile appeared on the man as several members stood and declared the whole trial a folly.
Augusta Longbottom could be a fiery witch when she wanted to be and was proving it now, doing her absolute best to demolish the accusations with sound, reasonable conclusions. Several other Board members also gave their accounts, most notably was Morgan Caterson. Morgan was surprisingly furious, usually one of the more reserved members on the Board and he attacked Fudge with a ferocity rivaling Augusta's. As he continued to rip into the trial's legality, the cloaked man looked about the room.
'Pity,' the figure mused, 'I bet on Thompson being the more vocal opponent but it seems he isn't here. Sirius will be 50 galleons richer, the lucky mutt.'
Alec's absence however, didn't sit well on the man's mind so he started to count heads and take note of those who were present. Eventually his gaze settled on Amelia and he nearly passed her over before something told him to look again.
He focused his senses on her, extending his perception far enough into the congregation that he could hear her forced breathing and rapid heartbeat. Amelia's form was still and her face held no expression yet her eyes told the real story. Rage was hiding there and he could read it so well the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The Head of the DMLE wasn't just angry, she was downright pissed and was barely holding on.
This spoke volumes and he was so shocked it finally made him aware of the ambience in the room. He bit back a snarl, his animalistic tendencies asserting themselves and pressure formed in his temples.
Magic was steadily condensing around Amelia and the feeling it generated clashed with his baser instincts. It signified a threat and if this continued, a fight would be unavoidable. He took stock of his immediate surroundings, making sure no one was the wiser before settling back on Amelia and renewing his study.
She was waiting for something.
The woman had a reputation for following justice with a passion and for her to not criticize Fudge's actions, especially when they were so obviously wrong made him wonder.
'Tonks mentioned they had quite the little chat so perhaps that has something to do with it?'
In his heightened state he couldn't help but notice the voices and murmurings of other individuals or perhaps more specifically, the silence of others. Elphias Doge, Tiberius Ogden, even Grisedla Marchbanks were all quiet and their support for Albus was legendary among the Wizengamot, yet they offered none of it.
'I do not like this.'
Fudge called out for objections from the public, another tradition that would have probably been skipped over if the times were any different. The formal announcement jarred the man from his mental concerns and he stood, signifying he had a remark to make.
The room became uncomfortably quiet, as if the action was unexpected. They all waited in silence until Fudge motioned for man to speak.
"Tell me, acting Warlock. What evidence is there to suggest that Dumbledore requires a cell in Azkaban? By my count, members of the Board have correctly justified his actions and I see no crime."
Fudge eyed the cloaked man with distrust. It wasn't entirely uncommon for citizens to show up in full robes complete with a hood. It was an old politician's trick to get someone to ask the uncomfortable questions without actually exposing the person for threat of torture. 'Something else to change,' he thought shrewdly before motioning towards the figure. "Show yourself citizen and your inquiry shall be acknowledged."
The cloaked man stood in defiance for a moment, knowing by law he didn't have to but Fudge clearly didn't care. He sighed, letting his hope fade on getting a little more out of the disguise and then removed the hood. Quite a few people chuckled and some even pointed at him once they recognized who it was. The acting Warlock sneered, "What are you doing here, filth? You know your rights are limited and your presence is not allowed."
Remus smiled a toothy grin, "You know, I was here when the Ministry wrongfully imprisoned Sirius. To my shame, I didn't stand up for him then, thinking much like you all do now." His smile lost some of its luster, "I won't make that mistake again." Remus spread his arms, "I'll happily leave, Mugwump, if you admit this trial is a farce and its only purpose to is to remove Dumbledore so you can take his place."
That earned a bit more noise, "Order!" cried Fudge. "You dare insult me? You dare insult this body of Britains finest? You shall be arrested and sentenced to death."
"And the formal charge would be?"
Umbridge stood up, "For being a filthy half-breed and a Dark Creature! You will be hanged to make our world better for there will be one less of your kind in it!"
There was a roar of approval and people around him scurried away while many of the council members jeered and spit at him if they could. Remus took it all in stride, never losing the shit-eating-grin but it did falter for a moment as he risked a glance at Amelia.
Her eyes were blazing with so many emotions he couldn't keep up. She was standing like the others, but her hand clenched the railing so tight, her knuckles were white. The other was deep in her pocket and she appeared to playing with something.
'What the bloody hell is wrong with her?'
"Aurors! Arrest him!" shouted Umbridge and several armored wizards sprang into action.
Remus' eyes widened in surprise. Even in his sensitive state, he hadn't detected their presence and they were closer to him then he would have liked. The Aurors, whose uniforms were slightly different from what he remembered, rapidly approached his location in the visitor's block. He stood when they were within several yards and they slowed their movements, moving cautiously forward with wands extended.
"Hands up, creature!" barked one of them. "You will come quietly. We have been authorized to use lethal force should you not comply."
Remus bit the inside of his lip, 'Bollocks. I was hoping to stir up a little more trouble. I owe Sirius another 50.'
"I said hands up!" yelled the front Auror and jabbed his wand in Remus' direction. A few seconds was all he needed to touch the portkey in his pocket. Remus snarled, 'Stupid wolf! A pissing contest is not what we need right now!'
The teams stopped before backtracking quickly. He'd dealt with this several times before; a loud snarl, show some teeth and they usually folded if only for a few seconds. As they scrambled back, he reached inside his robes but the action caused a slew of screams that in turn made all fifteen Aurors take aim and fire numerous spells.
That was unexpected.
Remus was caught off guard, having never expected a forceful retaliation and just as he began pulling his magic to form a shield, a presence appeared beside him and a purple glow surrounded them.
Gasps of surprise accompanied cries of outrage and Remus knew instantly who appeared by his side.
Fudge was livid, "Director Bones, I order you to explain yourself!"
The roar from the acting Warlock was nothing compared to Amelia's war cry.
"Go to hell you bloody bastards!"
As the words registered to all those present, Amelia reached out and grabbed a hold of Remus before muttering something no one but the werewolf could hear.
CrAcK!
The portkey ripped through the Ministry's defenses and in the blink of an eye, both Remus and Amelia were gone. At the same time a shockwave flew out from their point of escape, knocking many off their seats.
The council members took some time to collect themselves but the Aurors were already swarming like ants, combing over the area for anything that might give them clues as to where they went. Umbridge was nearly frothing at the mouth, shouting orders and demands for their arrest at such a shrill voice, many of those near her cringed even though they agreed.
Fudge on the other hand wore an expression of a completely different nature.
He wasn't pleased but there was a sadistic joy hiding behind his snarl. He pounded his gavel hard several times in rapid succession, managing to get everyone's attention and when they all were quiet did he speak.
"It would seem we have been betrayed by someone we have placed our utmost trust in. I, however, see this not as a moment of sorrow but of opportunity. The true colors of those we held in such high esteem have been shown to us. We have been wronged and now we have the ability to do something about it."
Fudge paused, looking around the room and he smiled inwardly as everyone stood riveted to his words.
"All those in favor of stripping Albus Dumbledore of his standings and condemning him to Azkaban, say I."
The resounding chorus was almost deafening.
"All those in favor of stripping Amelia Bones from her standings and condemning her to Azkaban, say I."
Again, the same chorus of approval.
"All those in favor of promoting Kingsley Shacklebolt to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement so we may fight this tyranny, say I!"
The last round of voting was the loudest and the council, with the few citizens included, all stood, clapped and hollered their fortune. Amongst the celebrating and handshaking, several individuals sat quietly staring off into space. Their mouths were slightly agape and eyes unblinking, all stunned it was even possible for things to deteriorate so rapidly. They slowly met each others' eyes, confirming what they had just lived through was real.
All the while, Lucius Malfoy sat in the general assembly, watching the chaotic celebrations going on around him. As people celebrated a new hope for their government, he noted those who seemed confused or otherwise unhappy with today's proceedings. The names of those he identified were written down into a small leather bound book. Completing his work, he snapped it shut and quietly left the room.
XX
10:00 A.M.
Robes billowed softly around equally soft steps of an elderly witch headed for the Headmaster's office. Being well into the morning hours and having not heard or seen the young leader concerned her greatly yet there was another purpose driving her need to speak with him.
Minerva had received a message from the Order's relay system and its contents were something she could not keep to herself. If all the details were to be believed, not only was Albus labeled a convict but Amelia Bones as well. Even without the mention of Umbridge's appearance along with her apparent promotion, the news was devastating. So shocked had she become that Minerva had to sit down after first reading it.
Harry had a right, a need to know about this.
The examinations were being officiated by the 'acting' Warlock and part of the judges panel comprised top Ministry employees along with several professors and the Board. Harry needed to know he was walking a dangerous road and despite many things to be worried for, there was one which stood at the forefront.
'Oh Harry, is there not enough for you to endure?'
As she came around the last bend, to a point where the gargoyle statue could be seen, she stopped. Albus was standing there, a hand against the stone entrance and leaning heavily on it.
'Merlin, things must be worse than I feared!'
She was about to call to him when a feeling made her hesitate. Albus looked to be doing something as he lightly brushed the surface of the statue with his fingers. He paused, searching for something to say and then visibly deflated, after which he uttered something under his breath.
She looked on in growing alarm as the statue melted away into the wall. In its place was nothing and if you didn't know where to look, you'd have no idea the entrance to the Headmaster's quarters had been sealed. A gasp wanted to rip through her but she held fast, watching in fascination as Albus moved slowly towards the other end of the hall.
To a dead end.
Albus had obviously sealed Harry in his own office but to what purpose? The young man could move about the castle as he saw fit, an obstruction like that wouldn't stop him.
'Unless it was meant to keep others out.'
Fawkes appeared and it made Minerva feel sad. Usually the phoenix burst into the environment with such life, all attention couldn't help but be drawn to the creature. This time, had she not been watching it herself, Minerva would never have known and in the same manner, Fawkes took Albus away.
She stiffened her lip, immediately whipped out her wand and moved to where the gargoyle statue used to be.
The next few minutes were filled with soft chanting, scratching of stone and several curses in Scottish that would have turned a ghost several shades whiter, yet the wall remained. She became infuriated by the fact that she, Deputy Headmistress, could not remove this hindrance and show the staircase, a place she very much needed to get to.
"So be it then," she hissed and began retracing her steps back to her own quarters. There was a way in which any member of the Order could send a message directly to their leader. Minerva hadn't used it in a long while though truth be told she hadn't used Howlers in a some time either, but she suddenly felt the need to send one. She'd send a much nicer message to Harry if she remained unable to get to him before the trials and hopefully, hear back in short order.
As the professor's form faded away into the darkness, Luna stepped quietly out from behind a pillar where she had been waiting since stumbling upon Minerva trying to open the doorway. The Ravenclaw was returning from another outing in the Library, one of the many requested of her by Harry since late last night. She was tired and could feel her body began to protest so much activity without rest but this was one of the few things she could do to help him now.
Luna didn't judge him when Harry said he couldn't perform the magic, with either herself or Hermione and she accepted it easily. The first question out of her mouth then was in what ways she could help him.
Harry protested initially, but after some convincing he quickly took to the idea of having her coach him in a manner. Luna was skilled in a wide range of abilities and although Harry had no hope of learning it all, he could at the very least be better prepared than what he was.
She stopped in front of where a statue should be and put her hand against the stone.
This would be an issue.
No one, save for the Headmaster himself could remove the gargoyle from its pedestal. Hogwarts: A History was very clear on this matter and it made sense: the only one to control the door was in fact the one whose office sat behind it. Initially, Luna thought it was Harry who barred the way but she heard McGonagall mutter about Dumbledore.
Interestingly, the book also noted ancestors could not direct the castle once they relinquished their positions. Only through willful acceptance by their successor would allow some semblance of control to return and even then, it was temporary.
Which meant Harry had given Professor Dumbledore permission to seal the stairs, but why if he knew she'd be coming back? A sigh escaped her and she glanced to the right, her senses announcing the presence of another.
"Is there anything you can do?" Luna asked.
A light blonde haired girl shook her head, "No, this was willed by him. I have no say in it."
"Why would he"
"Seal himself in? I don't know and I dare not ask but I do know that whatever the reason,"
"it involves Professor Dumbledore."
Luna frowned at Mai although a small part of her wanted to smile. It seemed like ages since the two of them were connected as they used to be. The closest example of their bond was like that of Fred and George Weasley, the troublesome brothers. Harry's purging of Mai had brought her back to the original form the Ravenclaw knew best.
"So what do we do now?"
Luna shrugged her shoulders, "Wait, I suppose. Harry promised not to lock me out and for him to break that promise is frightening. He's not one to break promises."
Mai gazed sadly at the door or what should have been a door. A suggestion was just about to leave her lips when she heard the soft voice of her sister.
"No, you're still upset so I don't want you to do that."
Mai glanced at her with a questioning look.
"If Harry locked me out, there's a reason and he'll tell me when the time is right. There's no need for you to go to him in my stead." Luna gestured and started walking away, "Let's go check on Hermione. Things are off kilter and there's a strange bend in the currents, one I've never seen before. I'm not sure what's going on but I know Harry would want us to be by her side if not by his."
Mai looked back at the wall before nodding and followed her other half away.
XX
Uncaring eyes looked down from picture frames hung in a semicircle behind the desk of the Headmaster. It was a little known fact the portraits of previous leaders, let alone the portraits throughout the castle, could not understand emotion.
Joy, sorrow, it meant nothing to them. They were imprints, a blink of an eye's worth of time bound to magical paper and nothing more.
They could feel emotion and those who survived burnings might say they felt fear but no portrait or perhaps no painter, could ever capture the essence of what made a human soul. The failure in this fundamental understanding made every portrait unable to understand. Their memories, though brief, were just enough to fill in the gaps and portray what looked like human understanding.
Every portrait knew this and it was an unwritten rule, a sort of Holy Law to never utter a word of this to the living, for obvious reasons and others not so obvious. They were designed to offer guidance and what better way to do that then from a perspective which had no emotional attachment to the words being said?
Phineas Nigellus Black knew this and accepted his kind's predicament. One might say he took a sort of gleeful approach to giving his successors advice he had no feeling towards. It made for a wonderful sense of detachment, a means of influencing the world after you died without the burden of giving wrongful advice.
What Black wouldn't love such a proposal?
But as he watched a silent Harry Potter, head down on the desk and weeping, the portrait found himself on the verge of caring. It was a radical notion, supposed to be impossible and yet here he was, beginning to understand the concepts of sorrow, of pain.
And of anger.
No one crossed a member of the Black Family.
No one.
In all his years of living and of those being stuck to a wall, never had he seen Fate been so unkind to a single life. Albus was a wise man but foolish when it came to mistakes. Phineas knew that better than anyone, having been one of the key consultants used by Albus in his prime. It wasn't a deliberate fool that had woven the atrocities which befell the young man, but an honest fool which made it all the more difficult to accept.
The first of many revelations the old wizard visited on the Harry was why the boy was left on the doorstep of uncaring relatives. It was a question the portrait had wondered himself from time to time and the answer was logical, albeit cold and uncaring.
Lily's sacrifice was one not seen since the Elder days, days that Phineas was told as a boy were wondrous and full of magic. The protections she placed on Harry were driven by blood, a concept the Black could appreciate and so the only way to forge these protections into something everlasting was to cultivate them using the bloodline.
The magic should have offered eternal safety from Voldemort but he found a way around it, a way Albus couldn't possibly have foreseen.
To take in his enemy's blood was to go against what made a Pure Blood. The Dark Lord was in essence, sacrificing a part of his strongest values for the sake of nullifying Lily's protection. Unfortunately, magic was made stronger when you performed acts of sacrifice in context. It was why the Dark Arts existed; it was why when a man extinguished thousands of souls, he was able to augment himself and perform incredible feats. It was also why a young woman could stop the kiss of death in exchange for her own. Magic didn't care how it was used, only in the relation between the source and the target.
Harry's cries became harsher, fists beating on the desk and his low moans turning to screams.
Phineas looked on, not blaming the young leader in showing his weakness. It wasn't every day you were told your life's story in less than two hour's time, with a prophecy to boot. That alone shook the portrait in troubling ways and once being a man of cunning and political might, Phineas could understand why Harry had been told so soon.
This Amelia Bones Albus spoke of inadvertently triggered an avalanche. He had heard her name before, in moments when Albus vented angrily to the air and Phineas came to understand her as the last beacon of hope in the Ministry. Apparently this was no more and by removing the one source of good friction from within, the Ministry could now operate as a finely tuned machine, one of corrupt purpose but still finely tuned.
"Horcrux," he spoke softly, tasting the word in his mouth. It was bitter, like rotting teeth and held a primal sort of blackness with it: a word of evil. Phineas had never heard of such a device but the description Albus gave Harry left little to imagine.
"I hate you!" cried Harry and the dense magic which even the portraits could discern started to take shape.
Magic moved about in a manner the elder Black had never seen. Taking physical form, it swirled around the young man and in the blink of an eye, everything turned to chaos.
Books were shredded to pieces, the desk was just a memory and every other object in the room suffered damage to some degree. Phineas didn't notice right away, but a spark from the shards of metal in the whirlwind landed on the far corner of his picture.
What disturbed Phineas the most, being part of magic himself and thus feeling its desire, was Harry's will. This show of power was not an example of the man's skill but of Magic's willingness to listen.
It wanted to do as Harry commanded.
Magic rarely took physical form outside of spells, rarer still to be commanded without command. There was something strange to this wizard beyond the world of context or equations which defined Phineas' mortal life.
There was somethingmore.
The torrent of emotion finally broke, like the passing of a fast moving storm. Phineas looked down at Harry with a sense of awe, even as the fire took light to the edges of his picture. The other portraits may have already fled, but that wouldn't save them. The frames had either caught fire, been torn or broken beyond repair and once the paper was damaged, the magic was lost.
Phineas as he was would soon cease to be. The thought was oddly comforting and the picture felt something bubbling up within him. He had stayed in his frame when the others had fled. It was not out of fear, of knowing his end was upon him or from being struck by awe despite the immeasurable awe he was in.
'He could do it,' Phineas realized. This boy could end it; stop the force Tom Riddle had become.
The picture allowed himself a smile, the first in decades.
As the fire took hold and his vision bathed in red, Phineas had his last look at Harry who fell to the floor in exhaustion. The boy was utterly spent, beat down by so many things, it was a miracle he possessed the strength to do anything. Albus' reasons were sound in places, flakey in others but what was done was done.
Harry knew the truth. All of it.
Despite the hardships this would visit upon him, there was yet another truth realized because of it. Vision consumed, Phineas sneered gleefully at the world.
'A corned Black is more dangerous than a Horntail!'
The last of the portraits, Phineas Nigellus Black, was eaten away by the flames.
XX
1:50 – Ten minutes to the examinations
Minerva marched wearily towards the Headmaster's office. The day had already given her a monster headache and it wasn't even over yet.
No amount of spell work or coercion, directional aids or other sort of magic would get the relay system to find Albus' location. What's worse is the howlers she sent came right back and exploded in her face instead.
The students had been a bit of a handful, rowdy and excited to be done with exams but perhaps more so with one of their one own being tested for the place of Headmaster. Fortunately there weren't any huge disruptions with ushering them out of the Great Hall and into the stands. In truth it felt like the Triwizard all over again and Minerva wasn't quite sure she liked that.
'What a mess this is.'
The logistics of organizing the event had been a nightmare, even before the latest developments in the Ministry. Amelia's sudden and abrupt departure hadn't yet reached the populous and Minerva was beginning to wonder how long it would take. Interestingly enough, it would also give them insight into what their enemy was thinking. The longer the public didn't know, the more obvious it would be just how bad things really were.
'I'd expect they won't wait long,' she mused while rubbing her temples. 'The reporters at the trial saw Remus and most know of his affiliation. Doubtful they would miss an opportunity to spurn Albus' past choices.'
How would the public react? Her assumption of them not yet being told was fairly sound, at least, if the lack of howlers were anything to go by. It was likely Harry would get numerous messages from people encouraging him or otherwise. Supporters and denouncers were almost constantly sending him something and it was a miracle she had briefly thought of the idea to sort it all before being delivered to him.
'Thank Merlin for House-Elves,' she thought to herself.
Who knew when Harry might actually get a chance to go through it all, let alone when things might calm down enough for her to mention it. There was enough on their plates for now and they certainly didn't need any more.
The other major issue to blame for her headaches was Harry had yet to make an appearance today. She at least expected him to come to lunch but he hadn't and a quick check at the Infirmary also turned up nothing, although she did find Luna watching over Hermione. A quick chat with the Ravenclaw and Minerva was further puzzled by her saying Harry hadn't visited since she arrived and that was several hours ago.
This wouldn't end well if he was still barricaded in his office.
It was hours since she tried getting in and the craziness of the day didn't offer her another chance. If Harry wasn't in his office then no one would know where he might be.
At turning the corner and seeing the statue back in its rightful place, she almost doubled her pace. 'That's a good sign,' she thought and was quickly ascending the stairs. Nearing the top, her nose picked up a faint smell of something burning and the space just outside the door into the office was warmer than she ever recalled it being. Any comfort she took in being able to get this far started to ebb away and before she could think on what she might find, a tired voice sounded from the other side.
"Come in, Minerva. Mind your step."
X
The sun was out with patches of cotton clouds swimming in the sky. This part of Scotland was remote enough where the rest of mankind's trappings, be they wizard or muggle, had not yet tainted the sky or earth. Everything here was rich in color, the greenest of greens and the bluest of blues for a warm summer's day. Magic probably had some hand in it but the rest was the hard work and dedication of Mother Nature.
Harry looked out over the forests and lands he could see from the height of the Headmaster's Tower. His current view was aided by a somewhat new renovation: a glass window which used to be off to side in a storage nook had been completely blown out. The opening it made was impressive, easily the size of the entrance way into any one of the Houses. If he hadn't already been so use to heights, the view would have been both breathtaking and frightening.
If only he could feel it.
Harry brought blood stained hands up to his eyesight, the forests becoming a green haze to highlight the red streaks. In his sorrow and rage, he had beaten them against the desk before his magic did the rest. Once the dust and debris settled, he found a ruined space and in all honesty he didn't care.
Words, thoughts, all jumbled together and he hadn't spoken anything since his cry of anger lit everything on fire. He had taken a single step and then blacked out from the rush of it. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out but when he came to, there was a warm breeze blowing through the area.
After pulling himself up and recalibrating the body, he traced its source and that's when he found the blown out window. Harry sighed, hands lowering as he continued to stare at the vastness before him.
'Things are different now,' he thought to himself and it was strange.
After the crushing weight of Albus' words, the anger at being kept in the dark, the truth about his life, the scar, everything; after everything had finally ended, there was a strange peace rooted within him and it had yet to leave.
Now he knew the truth.
A prophecy had been made linking his life and the Dark Lord's. It was the reason for the death of his parents and the life he was forced to live. Voldemort created Horcruxes in an effort to achieve immortality and Albus believed by some twisted means of Fate, Harry himself was one, along with six others. Harry explained to Albus, in rather colorful words, what had transpired the last few days and from the looks of it, Tom was down at least one of those dark objects.
But it didn't end there, oh no, it couldn't.
Albus had told him all this because of what happened at his trial this morning, an event he was somewhat reluctant to miss but the other members of the Order insisted on it. Amelia had let loose and rightly so: weeks of little sleep investigating the dirty underbelly of the Ministry, only for her efforts to utterly fail with Alec's disappearance. Her actions made a whole lot more sense when Albus told him Amelia and Alec were very close to each other during their time at Hogwarts and after.
He spoke of the sweeping changes likely to follow her leaving and what happened after was anyone's guess. He wasn't sure to the extent, but Albus believed the Dark Lord was orchestrating a fair amount of the activity in the political arena. It would only be a matter time before the war really began.
And that was why Albus told him everything.
The War was upon them, far sooner than any could hope, and with Harry being the only one who could control the castle properly, all the cards had to be let out on the table. Albus had said as much.
'I never meant for any of this to happen and regardless of where you hold me in your eyes after this, we must work together. If only for the sake of those who look to us for hope and safety, we must find a way. Hate me for eternity if you must, but please Harry, help me stop him.'
Harry closed his eyes and breathed deep of the warm air.
His anger peaked during their last few minutes for it became apparent Harry's life and all that went wrong in it could be summed up to the failings of one old man. Even still, Harry was not without understanding and could see what Albus was struggling to say before he said it.
'I have failed you, failed your parents and so many others. There are no words, no actions I can say or do to make amends. All I can ever say is I'm sorry.'
An exhale followed his thoughts and with it the anger at his mentor subsided. Another breath in and the rest of the Wizarding world came to mind. Truth be told, Harry really wanted to tell everyone to shut it and they could go fight the Dark Tosser themselves. They could be the ones to lose their family, lose their childhood and threaten the lives of their friends just because they were associated. They could have a taste of what it meant to fight for freedom and only then would they be worthy of claiming it.
He let out the air he took in and the anger and hate left his body. Harry wanted to, he really did and they deserved it, all of them.
"But I..." he groaned and shifted on his feet. Tiredly he rubbed his eyes before a chuckle escaped him. Harry started smiling, the chuckles growing louder but quickly subsiding as a few tears slid down his face. "Hermione must be right. I do like to save people."
Thinking of Hermione soon had him thinking about Luna which lead to Mai, then Ron, Ginny and Neville. How close had they really been to dying at every turn? Between the Devil's Snare, Basilisk, tournaments and a list that grew daily, it was a miracle they still took in air let alone himself.
Hermione.
He had chosen not to use Coetus, on either her or Luna. The choice came easily in regards to Hermione, she was too precious, too important to risk, no matter the consequences and doing so scared the daylights out of him. Luna found a similar place in his heart and even though she may have been the 'safest' of the two choices, his dedication to Hermione contributed to the hesitation.
Can Coetus alter the personalities of those who are connected together?
He had gotten ahold of Hermione's notes and read them thoroughly. Regardless of asking Luna for clarification or not, Hermione was worried about this. All his efforts and focus were about surviving but after reading her notes, Harry began to consider what the aftereffects could be. The benefits would have been enormous, especially now but would they be worth the risk of changing?
'Apparently not,' he thought shrewdly. He'd manage somehow with the skills he possessed and the little picked up through Luna's teaching. 'But will it be enough?' He shook his head, 'Yes, yes it will be enough. It has to.'
A sound from behind prompted a shift in his focus, a soft pitter-patter of footsteps were ascending the stairs. When he blacked out, the barrier Albus erected must have fallen. He hoped Luna would understand he just needed a little time to himself.
'Curious,' he thought with a smile. Somehow he knew who it was coming to visit and her reason too. "Come in Minerva. Mind your step."
As she entered, her mouth fell completely open.
The office was obliterated. Devices Albus had left behind were shattered like glass and scattered everywhere. Chairs, the desk, books, papers, shelves, everything lay wasted on the floor. Even the portraits had been destroyed, their magics no longer active in the frames.
Harry stood off to the side, gazing through what used to be a window but was just a big hole in the wall. When he turned to glance at her, she suddenly felt cold.
Harry looked older, with dull eyes looking through instead of at her. "Is it time?"
Her lips drew into a thin line, "Harry, what happened?"
"Give me a moment and I'll be ready."
He deliberately didn't answer and went into his personal chambers. Minerva looked on in stunned silence, unsure of what to say or do. She liked to think she knew her Lions and if that were the case, Minerva could honestly say she had never seen him like this before. What could have caused this destruction? Would he be even willing to speak of it, to her of all people?
'Oh, Hermione. Get better soon; Harry needs you now.'
The door to his quarters opened and he stepped through, eyes no longer tired but fiercely determined.
"I'm ready."
XX