Epilogue: Ambitions and Dreams

"Just try it, Tulliver."

Remus rested his hand on Peter's arm in warning, trying to pull it back down to his side. Pointing a wand at the head of the Department of Mysteries was probably not the smartest thing to be doing under the circumstances, no matter how much he might sympathise. Peter shook him off, but lowered his wand. Slowly. Tulliver simply sneered at them.

"You might think you're special, but as far as I'm concerned you're just as guilty as Potter. I've half a mind to arrest the pair of you as well, and all those other miscreants you dragged along."

"Well then, I suppose it's a good thing you don't have the authority to arrest people, isn't it Silas?" a new voice broke in. Tulliver turned, revealing the imposing figure of Rufus Scrimgeour. He limped further into the private room, and looked past Remus and Peter at the sick bed.

Harry lay there, pale and still. He had not yet woken up after the duel with Voldemort in the Ministry atrium, but his breathing was steady. The Healer standing over him was carefully ignoring the confrontation, concentrating on making sure Harry was well.

"How is he?" Scrimgeour asked the two Marauders. Remus sighed.

"As well as can be expected. Various injuries that the Healers have already patched up, or made a start on at least. Nothing life threatening though. He just…"

"He won't wake up," Peter said bluntly.

"Why?"

"We don't really know," the Healer said. He stood up, finally having administered the last potion, and ran his hand through his hair wearily. "He's been beaten up, obviously, but there's something more than that. Nothing I've ever seen before."

"Hardly surprising," Tulliver muttered. The Healer glared at him.

"I am quite competent, thank you. But if you think you know something more by all means enlighten us."

"I would assume it is something to do with his burgeoning…sorcery." Tulliver spat the word as if the mere thought of it offended him. Scrimgeour frowned at the statement, while Remus froze. Peter's hand twitched, giving away his desire to put a spell right between the Unspeakable's eyes.

"How did you know about that?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"I run the Department of Mysteries; it's my job to know things like that," Tulliver said.

"You're lying," Peter said more firmly. "How did you know."

There was a moment's silence as the two men stared at each other. Then Tulliver sniffed. "I suppose it doesn't really matter. The Department of Mysteries was originally established to track down sorcerers. We've known for years that Potter was showing signs of changing."

"So you can help him," Remus said, hope dawning. "You can teach him how to use his powers?"

"We find sorcerers and kill them," Tulliver continued. "It's far too dangerous to do anything else."

In the time it took Remus to process this statement, Tulliver had been flung back against the door, pinned there by a spell. Peter strode forward and grabbed him by the throat.

"Stay away from him. If you lay a finger on him I'll kill every last one of you."

"Ahem."

Peter did not release Tulliver, but he looked over his shoulder. Scrimgeour was watching everything carefully, leaning on his cane for support.

"I think we can resolve this amicably, if I may? For a start, Harry will not be arrested. Nor will anyone involved in tonight's incident. Is that understood?"

Tulliver gurgled, and Peter released his throat – but not the spell. "Not arrested? You do know what he's done tonight, don't you?"

"Broken out of Azkaban, broken into the Ministry, helped catch several Death Eaters and prevented the Dark Lord scoring a significant victory," Scrimgeour said calmly. "Quite an evening's work, I'd say. They certainly balance out."

"And perhaps you didn't hear about Morcambe?" Tulliver said sourly. "It wasn't the greatest place in the world, but at least it wasn't underwater before he broke out."

"Wait, what?" Remus said. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Potter used a storm to fly himself back to the mainland," Tulliver said. "But he didn't think about the fact that would make the sea rougher behind him, did he? It followed him, and guess where the first place he flew over was?"

"Morcambe, I assume?" Scrimgeour replied.

"Of course. Cue several tonnes of water in the streets, Merlin only knows how many people injured or killed, a fortune in property damage…and all because of one reckless little boy."

Peter responded with a flick of his wand; a streak of light hit Tulliver in the face, and he bit back a cry as his nose broke. "You can hex me all you want. It's true."

"It is, I'm afraid, true that Morcambe flooded tonight," Scrimgeour commented. Tulliver's face lit up with satisfaction for a moment, but the Auror was continuing. "As far as we can tell so far, no one was killed and precious few were injured, although there has been a certain amount of…wear and tear on the streets nearer the waterfront. I understand a popular statue will never be seen again."

"Harry really did that?" Remus asked, looking at his ward uneasily. He didn't blame him, but he knew Harry would blame himself.

"Collateral damage," Scrimgeour said with a shrug. "I believe under the circumstances the Ministry would not be averse to helping out with the clean up. Mr Potter has done us a great deal of good tonight, after all."

"What, exactly, did he achieve?" Tulliver asked, spitting blood from his mouth. "He destroyed dozens of prophecies, nearly ruined several vital experiments my Department was running, broke out of Azkaban – "

"Where he should never have been," Scrimgeour butted in. "If you ever came to meetings, you would know that Cornelius was doing everything he could to speed up Potter's release."

Tulliver grimaced. "Best place for him, if you ask me." His expression changed as he followed Scrimgeour's train of thought. "Don't tell me he's not going to be charged for that."

"Not so much as questioned," Scrimgeour said. "Although I'm sure Warden Perks would appreciate the return of his wand and boots. I'm sure he will be thrilled that it was taken up in opposition to Voldemort himself."

"Rufus, the boy is a criminal by anyone's definition!"

"And the Chosen One," Scrimgeour snapped back. "For once in your life look at the bigger picture!"

"If you think we're going to let you make Harry into some sort of poster boy," Remus piped up indignantly. Scrimgeour sighed and turned to him, but never got the chance to speak.

"If you're all quite finished?"

The Healer was staring at them meaningfully. There was an embarrassed silence, and Peter flicked his wand. Tulliver slumped away from the wall, rubbing his nose.

"Thank you. Now, if you wouldn't mind taking this somewhere else – by which I mean, not St. Mungo's – I'm sure Harry will make a much quicker recovery. Which we all want, don't we?"

"Quite right," Scrimgeour said, clearing his throat. "Might I suggest my office, gentlemen?"

"Don't bother," Tulliver said, dusting himself off. "You do as you see fit, Rufus. As you say, I have no authority to arrest him. But make no mistake: the boy is dangerous, and the Unspeakables will do everything we can to stop him hurting anyone else."

"Harry wouldn't hurt a fly," Remus retorted.

"Tell that to Jedgar Darrow," Tulliver shot back. "He made a mess of him alright, didn't he? For what it's worth though, I know he wouldn't try to hurt anyone except in self-defence, I'm not saying he would."

"Then what are you saying?"

"He's a sorcerer," Tulliver said, as if that explained everything. Perhaps, to him, it did. "He can't help being dangerous, it's just what he is." Before he could be questioned further, he turned on his heel and walked away, barging past Peter. The younger wizard made to follow him, but Scrimgeour called him back.

"Another time, perhaps. And don't worry; Tulliver talks a lot, but he wouldn't hurt a fly either. We'll get to the bottom of it all, but Harry won't be harmed. I give you my word."

"And do you give your word that he won't be arrested?" Remus asked. He caught the Healer's still irritable expression, winced, and beckoned the Auror and Peter after him. Together, they made their way from the room, talking as they walked.

"I do, yes. Harry's a hero, anyone can see that. I'm not going to have him blamed for trying to do the right thing, no matter how hard some people might try."

"That's good of you, but you're hardly the voice of the Ministry," Peter pointed out. Scrimgeour flashed a thin smile.

"We'll see about that. While Cornelius is absent, of course. We're doing everything we can to track him down."

"I'm sure," Peter said dryly. Remus rolled his eyes. There was never a missed opportunity for political wrangling, it seemed. Not even Scrimgeour was above it all.

"Do keep me informed of Harry's progress," Scrimgeour said, taking his leave as they walked out of the hospital. The Auror promptly turned on his heel, vanishing with a pop. Remus and Harry looked at each other.

"Do you want to set a guard?" Peter asked.

"Tulliver did say that they killed sorcerers…" Remus replied.

"Yeah. I'll tell the others. See you at Privet Drive?"

Remus nodded, and Peter Disapparated himself. Taking one final look up at the Hospital, Remus followed his lead.

Back in his room, Harry Potter lay very still, completely unaware of the outside world.

On the inside though…his thoughts and nerves twitched with foreign pain and sensations. His face burned, as if someone had pressed something white hot right across his face. His thoughts were filled with murderous rage against the Order, and against the Boy Who Lived. Sirius Black knelt at his side, awaiting his Master's attention placidly. He seemed not to care about the inevitable pain.

Harry watched, an almost alien feeling of satisfaction filling him as Voldemort shrieked with rage as yet another Healing Charm failed to soothe the damage to his face. It seemed as if his adversary had acquired his own distinctive scar.

Deep within his core, a fire burnt. It had always been there, flickering away, but now it raged as if it had been fed a sack of coal. The warmth of it filled his body, slowly banishing the cold that had devoured him in the duel with Voldemort.

And at the very back of his mind, at the edge of awareness, Titus was haunted by strange thoughts. Thoughts of a ring, a locket, a cup and a snake.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The end of Book 5

A/N: And that wraps it up for this one! I wasn't expecting to have this up so soon, but then I realised that it was approaching the two year mark on this book, which seemed ridiculous. I might only have managed it by a few days, but damn it, I managed. Thank you to all who reviewed and/or favourited etc. Your support means a great deal to me, although I am once again going to single out Hellinbrand for his constant good advice and commentary.

Book 6, currently entitled A Cold, Corrupting Fate won't be up for a while yet. I need to work on the plan for it before I even think about starting it. I promise lots of action and revelations about some of the ongoing plot threads though. I'm looking forward to writing it. In the meantime, I shall continue to update Hallowed, my new Ravenclaw!Harry fic, so feel free to check that out. As ever, I'm working on some collaborative stories with Hellinbrand, to which there is a link in my profile.

See you all soon!