Realisation

'It's Tom Proudfoot, Harry. He's the only one it could have been. He's the one we've been looking for all along.'

It took a few seconds for her words to sink in and when they did Harry could not immediately accept them. He moved away from her, almost as if she were contaminated in some way, and sank onto a nearby chair. He shook his head.

'It can't be, Hermione,' he finally managed. 'Tom is my friend; he's my partner. We've been through…'

'That doesn't matter, Harry,' Hermione replied, not unkindly. 'You mustn't let personal feelings cloud your judgment. Kingsley hit the nail on the head – no one is above suspicion. No one.'

'But Tom…'

'Tom is the only person who ticks all our boxes, damn it!' The anger was evident in her voice now. 'You have to be objective and look at this rationally.' Her voice softened. 'Harry? Someone has betrayed us – betrayed you. It is only someone that we trust that can do this to us. Think about this; look at the facts and pretend you don't know Tom. Act as if he isn't your friend and then tell me if you think he could be responsible for this. You have been more involved in this case than I have – you are a trained Auror and you know what to look for. Go over everything that has occurred and at least consider the possibility that Tom might be involved. Then tell me what you think.'

Harry took a deep breath and bit back the biting retort he had intended unleashing. This isn't Hermione's fault. Think about this! She's right; you are supposed to be an Auror! Be objective. If it were anyone but Tom I would examine all the possibilities.

He closed his eyes for a few moments and thought about everything that had happened, all the while taking into consideration the possibility that Tom was involved. He reconstructed events in his head, all the while making an assumption about Tom's guilt – looking at things from his point of view. After a minute or two, he opened his eyes and regarded her solemnly. Having looked at the facts in a new light he realised that a number of possibilities had been opened up and he felt a cold rage sweep over him. Oh, God. She's right; it has to be Tom. No one else fits the bill. He noticed that Hermione had a concerned look on her face; that despite everything that had happened she was worried about how this latest revelation was affecting him. He shook his head, knowing that he had to relate what he had been thinking about. He decided to start at the beginning.

'The key,' he said softly.

Hermione looked confused for a moment. 'What about it?'

'The key to Draco's flat was missing from the evidence Dawlish sent us. When we went to looking for it, Tom was the one who managed to dig it out, wasn't he?' She nodded and he continued. 'He probably had it all along. He probably read Dawlish's report and realised that Modric had made a mistake. He probably removed it believing that no one would think to ask about it. After all, it was hardly crucial to the case.'

'That's possible, Harry,' began Hermione. 'What abou…'

'I'm not finished yet,' he interrupted. 'When I went to pick up the remainder of Ron's files I was worried about Dawlish and Blaise. Tom came with me to the archive room and watched me remove everything – even though I had just told the others I was only following up a probable dead lead. It never occurred to me that he might be involved but I reckon taking all of that stuff when I had said I only wanted to check a detail put the wind right up him. The decision to have a pop at you was probably taken after that. He would have known we were on to something.' He frowned in anger as he recalled the scene. 'The bastard was even cracking jokes with me.'

Hermione realised that this was difficult for him but she needed to be sure that he was thinking straight. She decided to adopt a dispassionate tone; almost as if she were a presiding judge. 'It's still a bit thin, Harry. It won't stand up in court,' she finally replied. She had already formed her own opinion and was more than ready to believe in Tom's guilt but she knew that the law would require proof.

'It doesn't need to,' he replied. 'I'm only getting warmed up. There were a couple of things about the raid that I couldn't work out – things that have been niggling away at me without me knowing why. Now I do,' he added grimly.

'What things?' she asked, clearly curious.

'I couldn't for the life of me work out what caused Blaise to trip. The idiot shouldn't have tried to force that gap but he was right; he was making it through until he tripped. But there was nothing for him to trip over. Now I remember; it was Tom who alerted me to the danger. It was Tom who pointed out to me what Blaise was doing. He hissed a warning but he did it before Blaise fell. When I turned to look he could have cast a jinx that made Blaise fall on his arse – he was behind me at that moment. There was no problem with Blaise until Tom pointed it out.'

'This is still only supposition,' replied Hermione, playing the role of Devil's advocate with aplomb, thought Harry. 'What else do you have?'

'Fiendfyre,' he replied. 'He couldn't risk us taking any of the Deatheaters alive because they would have revealed his involvement. When we got split up Tom went after Crabbe and I took Dolohov. Kingsley told me that Tom had stunned and bound Crabbe but I'd stake anything that he killed him. He had a problem then; he still had to deal with the other three. He must have decided to come after me first - he was behind me when Dolohov cast the flames.'

'So what does the Fiendfyre have to do with this?' asked Hermione.

'Dolohov gave Tom the idea. It struck me at the time that the flames were spreading in all directions. That's not normal for that spell; you know what happened in the Room of Requirement – the flames come right for you first and then destroy everything else. But during the raid only some of them came for me – the flames Dolohov cast. Tom must have cast his own spell in order to get the others. That's why the fire spread so fast and why it spread in every direction. He knew that the other escapees would probably be caught up in the flames too.'

'But Tom was the one who warned the others that you were still inside. It was Tom who got the wards lowered,' interjected Hermione, still intent on making sure of Harry's reasoning. She was glad to see that he could be objective about this.

'I know; but remember what Dolohov told me. They want me alive. I have no idea why, but they want me alive. He was just following orders.' He looked directly at her. 'I'm doing what you suggest, Hermione. I'm looking at this objectively. This is all guesswork but if he is involved then this would explain some of what happened. And we can't ignore the facts in front of us, I suppose. Tom is the only person who was at Azkaban when the Deatheaters escaped; who could order Modric around and who had the ability to lay the trap at your office.' He sighed after saying this. 'He's also capable of creating a few anonymous notes to lead the others in the direction he wanted. First Ron; then Draco; then you. He's probably the one who has been feeding Rita all the little scoops she's been getting recently too. He's one of the few people who were involved in all of this from the beginning. He was one of the first to know that you had agreed to help me. He would have been on the scene at Malfoy's arrest and he would have been heavily involved in the investigation into Ron's death too. Rita had very precise information on all of this so she had to be speaking to someone who was directly involved. I can't ignore all of this. It could be nothing more than coincidence but Kingsley taught me a long time ago not to believe in coincidence.'

Hermione nodded her agreement having already come to the same conclusion. It was obvious that Kingsley agreed too. 'So what now? Do we bring him in for questioning? Do we contact the Aurors?'

Harry smiled; a twisted grimace that showed what he felt about the whole thing. 'No; Kingsley sent this information to us for a reason.'

'What reason?'

'We don't have much time left – he's addressing the Wizengamot later today. If he had sent this through the proper channels then Robards would have to take charge and we don't know if he's involved too. Even if he's clean he would have to order a full internal inquiry and we wouldn't find out who is behind all of this in time to save Kingsley's job. The press would then find out too and would have a field day. Kingsley's position would be undermined even further. And there is also the possibility that we are dealing with a conspiracy; that there are more people involved. Tom isn't clever enough to come up with all of this on his own but he would be a useful ally to whoever is pulling the strings.'

Hermione considered all of this and reluctantly accepted that Harry was probably correct in believing that someone else was really running things. This was politics and she did not even pretend to understand that particular game. She knew that Harry didn't appreciate it either but she was also aware that he had a more cynical view than her on what politicians were capable of. She supposed it was because he'd had plenty of bitter experience in dealing with politicians in the past. 'What do we do then?' she finally asked, her voice betraying her disapproval at the decision to allow Tom to remain at large.

'We use what we have.' He smiled. 'Tell me; do we have Tom's bank account ledger in here?'

Hermione nodded and he could detect a hint of colour on her cheeks.

'You didn't check it, did you?' he asked softly.

She reddened fully. 'No; I just assumed that Tom wouldn't be involved. He's your friend and you trusted him and I thought he was nice. I'm sorr…'

'Don't apologise,' he interjected. 'I wouldn't have checked him out either. And he can be a charming bastard when he wants to be. But now we know where to look. I suggest we start there. Who knows? It might lead us somewhere useful,' he added in a voice she had not heard from him before.

Hermione shuddered at the tone. She knew Harry so well; knew that he was open and honest and valued friendship and loyalty above everything. She also knew how he looked upon those that breached this trust and she was aware that Tom Proudfoot had a day of reckoning to face soon. When Harry did finally decide to take him down there wouldn't be anywhere on Earth for the turncoat to hide. She shook herself free of these thoughts and approached the pile of ledgers. Thinking about what was to come wouldn't hasten its arrival; they had a lot of work to do before then.

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked up from the inevitable folder at the knock on his office door and smiled as Susan popped her head round to speak to him.

'Narcissa Malfoy is here to see you,' she said and Kingsley nodded as he placed the file on the desk.

'Give me a minute before sending her in please,' he replied and leaned back in his chair as Susan disappeared again. Once again he wondered if he were doing what was right and smiled ruefully to himself as he remembered the advice Dumbledore used to give to everyone who passed through his school. One should always do what was right rather than what was easy.

He knew that what he was doing certainly wasn't easy so he took some consolation from the fact that this should mean what he was doing was right. Probably.

He sighed and got to his feet before pacing the floor of his office, deep in thought. Several hours had passed since he had taken the decision to send Harry the information he'd received from Azkaban and he wondered if he had acted correctly. He knew that the correct procedure would have been to relate his suspicions to Gawain Robards but he had refrained from doing so for two reasons. First; he did not know if Robards could be trusted as there existed the possibility that he was in collusion with Proudfoot. He smiled suddenly, aware that part of him was grimly amused at how he no longer could bring himself to call the man "Tom" anymore.

The second reason for acting as he did was because he knew he was running out of time. Harry and Hermione were probably his last hope of remaining in office and he fully intended to battle to cling on to his position. It was not the power that motivated him to do this - although in more reflective moments he would admit that the power was at least a part of his reasoning. But what really drove him was his desire to make a difference. He believed that his administration had been of benefit to his society and that he had done much to heal the wounds after the fall of Voldemort. The equality bill was to have been his crowning glory – his legacy to future generations. He believed in it passionately and now the bill was in jeopardy for when he made his announcement a few hours from now all hell was going to break loose. This was why he had sent the list to Harry; only he could save him now and only if he could uncover the conspiracy.

He sighed again, knowing that he was a victim of his own nature. He could never allow an innocent man to be Kissed and he knew – knew – that Draco Malfoy was not involved in the death of Cho Chang. Unfortunately, his enemies also seemed to be aware of this fact. They had him cornered and had done it by using his own integrity. It just seemed difficult to believe that someone had planned all of this.

He looked up as his door opened once again and Narcissa Malfoy entered, outwardly looking as composed as ever. His trained eye noticed a few cracks in the façade, however. Despite the air of cold beauty that emanated from her he could see the strain evident in her eyes. The past week must have been hell on earth for her and as Draco's day of reckoning drew ever nearer she must have felt the burden of worry like a crushing weight. He smiled suddenly, realising that at least one good thing would happen as a result of his decision.

'Narcissa; thank you for agreeing to see me,' he began. 'Please; take a seat.'

Narcissa nodded her acknowledgment at the words but did not reply immediately. Instead, she took her time to sit down and waited until the Minister had done like wise. Only then did she feel the need to respond.

'I must say, Minister, I am certainly curious as to why you wish to see me. I received notification of the special session of the Wizengamot called for later today but I was surprised at your request for a personal interview too.'

'It is concerning the special session that I wanted to speak with you first,' he replied.

'Indeed?' asked Narcissa, an eyebrow raised.

'Yes,' he replied, feeling slightly discomfited under her cold scrutiny. 'I will be informing the Council later today that I will be invoking my right to use my Ministerial Prerogative. I will be telling them that I will not allow the Dementor's Kiss to be used as punishment if Draco is found guilty. I am required by law to declare this no later than twenty four hours before the trial is due to commence. The judge has already been informed; the session is just a legal formality.'

He watched her as the impact of his words finally hit home. It was a measure of the stress that she was under that it took a few moments for the implications to sink in. She opened her mouth in surprise before the ice finally cracked and she placed her head in her hands and began to sob quietly with relief.

'Oh, thank Merlin,' she whispered and Kingsley felt deeply uncomfortable at her reaction. He grabbed some blank parchment from the corner of his desk and quickly transfigured it into a box of tissues before sliding them across to her. She gratefully took a handful and dabbed at her eyes.

'Please accept my apologies, Minister,' Narcissa began. 'I am…'

'There is no need to apologise,' he replied with a smile. 'It is perfectly understandable. This past week cannot have been easy for you.'

She nodded her agreement before looking him directly in the eye. 'How can I ever thank you?' she asked.

Kingsley grimaced. 'Don't thank me. Thank Harry and Hermione. They uncovered enough to convince me that Draco has been framed.' He sighed. 'Unfortunately, they have not managed to discover who is responsible. Yet,' he added meaningfully.

'So Draco will still stand trial?' Narcissa asked.

Kingsley nodded. 'I'm afraid so but with what your Soul Thief has discovered I believe that there is enough element of doubt to acquit him. But even if he is convicted he will only be sent to Azkaban. At least then you will have the opportunity to appeal and have the time to investigate further. It is the best I can do.'

'It is more than I could have ever hoped for, Minister. Again; thank you.' She paused before continuing. 'I have some idea what this decision may cost you. You will not have your enemies to seek after you announce this. Has it occurred to you…?'

'It has occurred to me, Narcissa. I am not yet without all hope. Harry refuses to give up – he believes he can still uncover the truth. Even now he is working away on the case despite my decision.'

Narcissa smiled at these words and it occurred to Kingsley that this was probably the first genuine smile he had seen from her all week. The relief of Draco's reprieve had obviously worked wonders for her.

'It would not be Harry if he were to throw in the towel, would it?' she asked. 'Has he anything new to go on?'

Kingsley considered the question and gauged just how much he should reveal to her. 'We had a possible break in the case earlier today. I trusted only Harry with checking it out and I would be grateful if you could keep this to yourself.' He glanced at his watch. 'He only has a few hours to come through for us but I believe if anyone can do it, he can. And Hermione of course.'

Narcissa's smile broadened even further. 'Of course, Minister,' she repeated. 'Where would Mr Potter be without Miss Granger, I wonder?' She stood suddenly and held out her hand. 'You will forgive me if I take my leave of you? I must inform my son of your decision. His torture has gone on long enough.'

Kingsley stood too and took the proffered hand. He shook it but as he made to release his grip she tightened her hold on it. 'Thank you,' she whispered. 'From the bottom of my heart; thank you.'

He could only smile as she finally released him and turned towards the door. He'd been correct; at least one good thing was going to happen as a result of my decision.

As he sat down he was content; he had done what was right and avoided the easy path.

Now it was all down to Harry.

Harry sat back in is chair and rubbed his face with both hands, his fingers rubbing up behind his glasses as he did so. They had been looking at dusty old ledgers for hours and had discovered some interesting things but so far the answer still eluded them. He'd needed to take a break as the numbers were beginning to swim before his eyes but he had not managed to convince Hermione to let up and as he glanced in her direction he noticed that she still had her head down buried in yet another ledger. He smiled as he saw the fierce concentration on her face and marvelled at her focus.

They had found some inconsistencies immediately when they had opened Tom's ledger. There were a number of unexplained transactions – including one for a very large amount of Galleons that had been paid into his account and then removed on the same day. That the date in question was three days before the Azkaban breakout was more than a coincidence and he was now convinced that this was a part of what Cho had discovered and had wanted to tell Ron.

But they still hadn't worked out who was behind the money. All they could discover next to this particular transaction were the initials "T.K." These letters appeared regularly in the account and when they had examined a few other ledgers they discovered that they appeared regularly in these books too. Unfortunately, "TK" could mean anyone – or indeed, anything. All that they could say for certain was that a lot of money was changing hands from one account to another. Until they discovered the source, they had nothing to take to Kingsley.

He leaned back and spotted the two copies of the Daily Prophet that lay on the desk. Picking up the top copy, he flicked it open and realised that it was the edition from the previous week – from the day after Cho died. He looked once again at the photograph atop the article on Chang's party and studied it intensely. Something was telling him that the answer was here; that at least one of the people in the room that night was involved somehow, but he still could not grasp what it was. He felt the frustration rise within him. We're so close!

'Are you still clutching at straws, Harry?' asked Hermione with a smile and he was shaken from his thoughts at the question.

He smiled, glad she could still joke about things. 'I just needed a break. These ledgers are beginning to do my head in. You know me; study was never my strongest suit.'

She smiled in return. 'No; it wasn't. I seem to remember having to bail you out a few times at school. You were never the most methodical of students.'

'No; I was more of an…improviser,' he replied.

'You mean you made it up as you went along?'

'Pretty much. Hey; I didn't do too badly, did I? Sometimes my methods worked out OK,' he added defensively.

'Sometimes they did,' she allowed, still smiling. 'But sometimes the way you looked at things were…unique,' she added, congratulating herself on her tact.

'Unique? That's one way of putting it I suppose,' he replied, feigning affront. 'But you have told me before that sometimes you need to take a new angle on thi…'

'What is it?' Hermione asked a touch alarmed at the way he tailed off in mid-sentence. She watched as his eyes narrowed and realised that something had occurred to him. She decided not to speak; decided instead to allow him to follow whatever new train of thought had entered his head. She noticed that he sat up straighter; that his breathing had quickened and she knew that he was on to something. He was studying the newspaper again, his eyes drawn towards the photograph at the top of the page and she realised that he had the same look of the hunter in his eyes as he did when seeking the snitch.

Time passed. Whether it was a few seconds or a few minutes she did not know such was the intensity with which she watched her man as he mulled over whatever new idea had presented itself. She didn't even speak when he suddenly stood up and approached the pile of books in the corner before beginning to flip open ledgers, one after the other, tossing unwanted ones over his shoulder until he found what he was looking for. She noticed that he had separated a few from the pile and she could contain herself no longer.

'What is it?' she finally asked and she realised that she was shaking where she sat.

He turned to face her and she could see the excitement written all over his face. She held her breath.

'I think I know who is behind all of this, Hermione,' he finally answered in a low voice and she felt her own sense of elation as she recognised the truth in his eyes.

'I need some parchment,' he continued. 'And a quill. We are going to have to pick up some of the papers from your apartment too. I have a few ideas to confirm and I'm going to need your brains to do it.' He took a deep breath.

'We've got the bastards, Hermione. We've got them!'

She didn't know what to say in response – didn't even know who or what he was talking about. But she knew her man and knew by his reaction that they did indeed have them.

Soon, someone was going to pay.

Kingsley Shacklebolt approached the Council chamber with the same feelings as one that was walking to meet the executioner. He had told only Harry, Hermione, Arthur Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy of his reasons for calling the special session and as he approached the great double doors of the chamber he caught more than one member cast a curious glance in his direction. He didn't know for certain how his decision would be greeted – all he did know was that some of the more conservative elements of the Wizengamot (not to mention the numerous enemies of Lucius Malfoy) would not be too enamoured when they discovered that Draco was not to be Kissed. The attitudes of some of his political colleagues disgusted him at times and he was well aware that if Voldemort had triumphed he would not have had any trouble in finding willing allies for his cause. It was yet another dream of his – political reform – but he knew that this would be a slow process. The equality bill was the first step on that long road and his great fear was that his dream might be strangled at birth.

He nodded affably to John Dawlish and Blaise Zabini who stood guard at the entrance to the chamber. He had decided to allow Blaise to return to his duties. He was convinced that the man had been the victim of a cheap trick and so had found no further cause to punish him. Besides; he had an inkling that they might need every loyal man soon enough.

As he passed into the chamber his eyes scanned the room until they alighted on the two Aurors standing guard by the Minister's lectern. He recognised the stocky stature of Mark Savage and the tall form of Tom Proudfoot who stood next to him. He nodded to them both, concealing his anger and suppressing the desire to pull out his wand and curse Tom Proudfoot here and now. He knew the man was a traitor but he didn't have enough proof yet. He could only pray that Harry had found something of use but so far this was proving to be a forlorn hope.

He took his seat and waited patiently as the benches around him filled up with the movers and shakers of the magical world. He acknowledged a few greetings; ignored a few others and generally concealed his impatience as the seats slowly began to fill. After about ten minutes the great doors were swung shut and the last of the council members took their seats. He wasn't surprised to notice that it was Lucius Malfoy who was the last to take his place and he wondered vaguely if Narcissa had informed her husband of what was about to be declared.

He shrugged, dismissing this as irrelevant. He strode to the lectern and surveyed the room, smiling as he did so. He took a sip from a glass of water placed discreetly by his right hand and looked up to address the council.

'My dear colleagues,' he began, 'I have called you here today to…'he stopped abruptly. Stopped because the attention in the room was not on him – rather it was on a commotion that could be heard on the other side of the great doors. He paused, frowning at the interruption and turned to order Mark Savage to investigate. People were on their feet trying to catch a glimpse of what was occurring and he was just about to call for order when the great doors crashed open and Harry strode in, Hermione at his side.

Kingsley said nothing, instead allowing an eyebrow to rise in question. Harry didn't speak; didn't react to the shouting and yelling going on all around him. It was yet another of his grand entrances and as Kingsley watched him he looked directly into his eyes and smiled before giving an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

What Kingsley felt at that moment was almost the same as his emotional state when Voldemort had been destroyed. He felt a surge of hope well up within him. Hope and pride; hope for the future and pride in the young man who had once again overcome all the odds and personal tragedy to come through for them all.

He smiled at his friend. Smiled and stood down to approach him. As he neared Harry leaned in towards him.

'We've got them, Kingsley. We know who did it.'