A/N Wow, a whole year has gone and I haven't updated ... I am very sorry - University is crazy, and I'm away on a Study Abroad so it's all a bit hectic. However, considering I have chapters I wrote about a year or two ago still waiting to be uploaded, there's not really an excuse! Enjoy, if you're still there!

Chapter Fifteen

The Ministry of Magic

A great change had come over the Ministry since Amara's last visit. It was now dark, gloomy and had an edgy feel. It was, however, full of people, which was the opposite to last time. Hermione nudged her over toward the new fountain – two thrones made of twisted faces of muggles. Magic is Might was written at the bottom.

"There's Ron," Hermione whispered as Ron – in his navy blue robes and looking like Reg Cattermole, albeit with a rather worried and stressed look on his face – came over to join them. Moments later, Harry did too.

"You got in all right, then?" Hermione whispered to Harry.

"No, he's still stuck in the bog," said Ron.

"Oh, very funny . . . It's horrible, isn't it?" Hermione said to Harry, who was staring up at the statue as well. "Have you seen what they're sitting on?"

"Muggles," Amara said hollowly. "Where they're meant to be. Their rightful place."

"Come on, let's get going," said Hermione.

They joined the stream of witches and wizards moving toward the gates at the end of the hall. Trying to see if Umbridge was anywhere in sight, they joined the queue that were waiting for the lifts.

"Cattermole!"

It took Amara about three seconds before she realised that the person was calling Ron. Someone shouted that his name was Yaxley, and Amara had a distinct feeling that he was a Death Eater.

"I requested somebody from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole," Yaxley said. "It's still raining in there."

Ron looked around as though hoping somebody else would intervene, but nobody spoke.

"Raining . . . in your office? That's — that's not good, is it?" Ron gave a nervous laugh. Yaxley's eyes widened.

"You think it's funny, Cattermole, do you?"

A pair of witches broke away from the queue for the lift and bustled off.

"No," said Ron, "no, of course —"

"You realize that I am on my way downstairs to interrogate your wife, Cattermole? In fact, I'm quite surprised you're not down there holding her hand while she waits. Already given her up as a bad job, have you? Probably wise. Be sure and marry a pureblood next time."

Hermione had let out a little squeak of horror. Yaxley looked at her. She coughed feebly and turned away.

"I — I —" stammered Ron.

"But if my wife were accused of being a Mudblood," said Yaxley, "— not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken for such filth — and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my priority to do that job, Cattermole. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," whispered Ron. Amara tried not to stare at Yaxley. Jesse worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – was he working under Yaxley?

"Then attend to it, Cattermole, and if my office is not completely dry within an hour, your wife's Blood Status will be in even graver doubt than it is now."

The golden grille before them clattered open. Yaxley turned away and walked off, leaving the four of them to enter a lift all to themselves.

The grilles shut with a clang and the lift began to move upward.

"What am I going to do?" Ron asked the other three at once; he looked stricken. "If I don't turn up, my wife — I mean, Cattermole's wife —"

"We'll come with you, we should stick together —" began Harry, but Ron shook his head feverishly.

"That's mental, we haven't got much time. You three find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office — but how do I stop it raining?"

"Try Finite Incantatem," said Hermione at once, "that should stop the rain if it's a hex or curse; if it doesn't, something's gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervius to protect his belongings —"

"Say it again, slowly —" said Ron, searching his pockets desperately for a quill, but at that moment the lift juddered to a halt.

A disembodied female voice said, "Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau," and the grilles slid open again, admitting a couple of wizards and several pale violet paper airplanes that fluttered around the lamp in the ceiling of the lift.

Hermione and Amara edged over to Ron and started whispering spells that could possibly make it stop raining in Yaxley's office. Amara wondered why on earth it was raining in an office anyways.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services," said the disembodied witch's voice.

Amara shoved Ron out the lift, making him stumble out with the other wizards, leaving Amara, Harry and Hermione alone.

The moment the golden door had closed Hermione sagged against the wall "Oh, God, this is awful. Ron's not going to be able to do this and now we don't know where —"

"Level one, Minister of Magic and Support Staff."

The golden grilles slid apart again and Hermione gasped. Four people stood before them, two of them deep in conversation: a long- haired wizard wearing magnificent robes of black and gold, and a squat, toadlike witch wearing a velvet bow in her short hair and clutching a clipboard to her chest.

"Ah, Mafalda!" said Umbridge, looking at Hermione. "Travers sent you, did he?"

"Y-yes," squeaked Hermione.

"Good, you'll do perfectly well." Umbridge spoke to the wizard in black and gold. "That's that problem solved, Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway." She consulted her clipboard. "Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee! Tut, tut . . . even here, in the heart of the Ministry!" She stepped into the lift beside Hermione, as did the two wizards who had been listening to Umbridge's conversation with the Minister. "We'll go straight down, Mafalda, you'll find everything you need in the courtroom. What on earth are you doing in here, Ophelia? Your floor is on level six!"

Amara tried not the blanch.

"Oh - I was - Runcorn needed someone," squeaked Amara quickly. Umbridge turned to Harry for the first time.

"Oh, good morning, Albert," she said in a much nicer voice than she had used in Amara. "So, aren't you two getting out?"

"Yes," said Harry in Runcorn's deep voice.

"Thank you," Amara squeaked again and hurried after Harry.

They turned to watch the gates clang shut and saw Hermione's pale face sinking out of sight.

"What brings you up here, Runcorn?" asked the new Minister of Magic. His long black hair and beard were streaked with silver, and a great overhanging forehead shadowed his glinting eyes.

"I needed Ophelia to see - to see Arthur Weasley. Someone said he was up on level one."

"Ah," said Pius Thicknesse. "Has he been caught having contact with an Undesirable through the Floo Network?"

"No," said Harry, "No, nothing like that."

"Ah, well. It's only a matter of time," said Thicknesse. "If you ask me, the blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods. Good day, Runcorn. Er – good day, Porper, is it?"

"Good day, Minister."

They waited until Thicknesse had walked out of sight before turning to each other.

"What are we going to do?" Amara whispered in panic.

"I don't know," Harry frowned. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak from out of his robes.

"It's too small for the both of us," Amara said quietly. "You're nearly six foot tall! And I'm no midget."

Harry swore slightly under his breath. Their plan had unravelled faster than they could think. Hermione was with who they needed to be with, but court proceedings took ages. And Ron, Ron was attempting to do something even Amara and Hermione would struggle with. Then there was Amara and Harry, stuck on level one with no plan at all.

"Umbridge's office must be up here," Harry said finally. "We've been standing here too long - we'll find it and search it."

"But why would she have the necklace in her office?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

Amara didn't reply, and didn't protest when Harry threw the Cloak over them both. It wasn't comfortable; they both had to half slump over so their feet were covered and the both of them were very close together. This meant it was very hard to walk.

They hardly needed it down the corridors, passing panelled room after panelled room with golden plaques, as there was no one but a frowning wizard murmuring instructions to a quill.

Halfway along the next corridor, however, they emerged into a wide, open space where a dozen witches and wizards sat in rows at small desks. Harry stopped suddenly, making Amara jerk back and hit into his side rather painfully. As Runcorn, he was rather muscly and powerful, which made it hurt all the more.

Amara watched the wizards and witches at the desks; they were all waving and twiddling their wands in unison, and squares of coloured paper were flying in every direction like little pink kites. They were making pamphlets.

Harry nudged her and cocked his head toward them. Amara nodded and she and Harry crept closer. Harry slipped a completed pamphlet under the Invisibility Cloak:

MUDBLOODS
and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society

Beneath the title was a picture of a red rose with a simpering face in the middle of its petals, being strangled by a green weed with fangs and a scowl. Amara had a very sick feeling in her stomach as she looked at it.

Amara jumped as the witch next to them spoke. "Will the old hag be interrogating Mudbloods all day, does anyone know?"

"Careful," said the wizard beside her, glancing around nervously; one of his pages slipped and fell to the floor.

"What, has she got magic ears as well as an eye, now?"

The witch glanced toward the shining mahogany door facing the space full of pamphlet-makers. Amara and Harry turned toward the door. Amara nearly choked as she saw the eye on the door. It was Mad-Eye Moody's.

Harry pulled her over so quickly Amara swore their feet definitely showed. He pointed at the door.

Dolores Umbridge

Senior Undersecretary to the Minister

Below that, a slightly shinier new plaque read:

Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission

It was a sign of how close they were as friends; it took one look at Harry's face for Amara to get a Decoy Detonator out of her pocket and shove it toward the pamphlet makers. A few moments later, during which Harry waited with his hand upon the doorknob, there came a loud bang and a great deal of acrid black smoke billowed from a corner. The young witch in the front row shrieked: pink pages flew everywhere as she and her fellows jumped up, looking around for the source of the commotion. Harry turned the doorknob, and they both stepped into Umbridge's office, and closed the door behind them.

"Yuck," said Amara, for good reason. The whole place was pink and lacy, like it had been at Hogwarts. She was distinctly reminded of the detentions and the time they were captured by the Inquisitorial Squad.

Next to her, Harry was busy wrenching the eyeball out of the door.

"Are you sure that's safe?" Amara said.

"I'm not having it stay here," Harry said firmly, shoving it in his pocket. He retrieved his wand. "Accio Locket."

Nothing happened. Amara was unsurprised, but sighed anyway. Instead, they both started searching her desk for any signs of the locket. It was useless – there were lots of things that Umbridge would undoubtably have, like the lace box full of spare hair bows and clips – but no locket.

"Let's check the filing cabinet," Amara said, pointing. Harry, being six foot, did the top, whilst Amara started at the bottom.

"Oh no," said Amara, retrieving two folders with familiar names on. "Look!"

It was Mr Weasley's and Jesse's files. Harry grabbed Mr Weasley's and flicked it open.

ARTHUR WEASLEY

blood status: Pureblood, but with unacceptable pro- Muggle leanings. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix.
family: Wife (pureblood), seven children, two youngest at Hogwarts. NB: Youngest son currently at home, seriously ill, Ministry inspectors have confirmed.
security status: TRACKED. All movements are being monitored. Strong likelihood Undesirable No. 1 will contact (has stayed with Weasley family previously)

Amara gulped and opened Jesse's file.

JESSE REYNOLDS

blood status: Half-Blood. Pureblood father, Muggle mother. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix.
family: Son of Louis Reynolds, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation in France. Two siblings, sister enrolled at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. First cousin to Muggleborn Amara Matthews (Undesirable), with strong connections with Undesirable No. 1.
security status: TRACKED. All movements are being monitored. Likelihood Undesirable No. 1 or accomplice will contact.

"Undesirable Number One," Harry muttered. They replaced the folders carefully. Amara was trying not to shake. They were being tracked – they knew that Jesse was related to her. Harry looked at the poster of himself, with 'Undesirable No. 1' emblazoned on his chest. A little pink note was stuck to it with a picture of a kitten in the corner. Harry moved across to read it whilst Amara shut the file drawers.

"What is it?" she asked quietly as Harry looked furious.

He didn't answer, but started tearing around the office, trying to find the locket.

"Harry," Amara said suddenly. She had seen a book with Dumbledore's picture on, smiling wistfully. The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. By Rita Skeeter, bestselling author of Armando Dippet: Master or Moron? "Look at that book."

Harry looked up and walked over to it, picking it up quickly and opened it at randomly. Amara edged slightly closer but didn't particularly want to see what Rita Skeeter had written.

"Who do you think this is?" Harry whispered, showing her a photo of two teenage boys, with arms around their shoulders and laughing. Amara hadn't a clue who the boy next to Dumbledore was. Nor that she had a chance to answer, as at that moment, the office door opened.

Amara dived towards Harry and shoved the Invisibility Cloak over themselves before Thicknesse looked up. It was a very good thing that he'd been looking down, or else they'd've been caught.

However, Thicknesse might have caught a glimpse of movement, because for a moment or two he remained quite still, staring curiously at the place where Harry and Amara had just vanished. Amara got decidedly more anxious as Thicknesse still didn't look away. Amara breathed a sigh of relief as Thicknesse finally walked to the desk and pointed his wand at the quill standing ready in the ink pot. It sprang out and began scribbling a note to Umbridge. Very slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Amara and Harry backed out of the office into the open area beyond.

The pamphlet-makers were still clustered around the remains of the Decoy Detonator, which continued to hoot feebly as it smoked. Amara and Harry hurried off up the corridor as the young witch said, "I bet it sneaked up here from Experimental Charms, they're so careless, remember that poisonous duck?"

They sped back to the lifts at full speed – grateful that they didn't see anyone, as their feet were showing rather badly. A lift was waiting for them and they tore into it.

"That was close," Amara panted as they whipped off the Cloak. The lift began to descend lower into the ground.

"I know," said Harry, slumping against the wall of the lift.

It halted on level two and a wild-eyed, sopping wet Ron walked in.

"M-morning," he stammered to Amara and Harry as the lift set off again.

"Ron, it's us, Harry and Amara!"

"Harry! Amara! Blimey, I forgot what you two looked like — why isn't Hermione with you?"

"She had to go down to the courtrooms with Umbridge, she couldn't refuse, and —" But before Harry could finish the lift had stopped again: The doors opened and Mr Weasley walked inside, talking to an elderly witch whose blonde hair was teased so high it resembled an anthill.

". . . I quite understand what you're saying, Wakanda, but I'm afraid I cannot be party to —"

Mr Weasley broke off; he had noticed Harry. It was rather nasty glare and Amara edged closer to Ron, in case it looked weird that she was standing close to Runcorn. The lift doors closed and the five of them trundled downward once more.

"Oh, hello, Reg," said Mr Weasley, looking around at the sound of steady dripping from Ron's robes. "And Ophelia! Nice to see you're back! Er, Reg, isn't your wife in for questioning today? Er — what's happened to you? Why are you so wet?"

"Yaxley's office is raining," said Ron. "I couldn't stop it, so they've sent me to get Bernie — Pillsworth, I think they said —"

"Yes, a lot of offices have been raining lately," said Mr Weasley. "Did you try Meteolojinx Recanto? It worked for Bletchley."

"Meteolojinx Recanto?" whispered Ron. "No, I didn't. Thanks, D — I mean, thanks, Arthur."

The lift doors opened on level six. Considering this was Ophelia Porpington's floor, Amara decided the best thing would be to get off before Mr Weasley thought she was up to something. The old witch left too, along with Ron. He darted off so quickly it was a struggle to catch up - Percy Weasley had just got the lifts and wasn't paying attention. Luckily, Amara managed to dart around him and shoot off after Ron, who was looking very stressed indeed by this point.

"Amara!" he hissed as he saw her. "What are you doing?"

"This is Ophelia's floor," said Amara. "I had to get out."

Ron nodded, flicking her with water. They crossed the hall and into more panelled rooms. They turned a corner and not for the first time that day, Amara's heart dropped to her feet.

Coming towards them was Adrien Page and Jesse Reynolds. Being an Obliviator, Amara wasn't sure why Adrien was on this floor, and Jesse's job was on level two.

"Ophelia! There you are!" said Adrien, hurrying towards them. Amara paled and Ron stuttered to a stop. "We wondered where you'd got to."

"Here I am," said Amara in a high-pitched voice. She avoided eye-contact, for fear of recognition.

"Good to see you're back," Adrien smiled.

"We have a problem in a house in Manchester," said Jesse. "Accidental magic. Adrien's going over there to Obliviate the Muggles but we can't Apparate there. Can you set up a Floo?"

Amara stared. It was odd when no warmth was in Jesse's voice. Her cousin seemed drawn and weary from worry.

"Ophelia?"

"Yes," Amara started. "Er – yes, yes, that's fine! We'll just –"

"Hi Cattermole," said Adrien, suddenly noticing Ron, who seemed to be frozen. "Er – why are you so wet?"

"Yaxley's office is raining," stuttered Ron. "I have to get Bernie – er – Pillsworth."

"I saw him earlier," said Jesse, jerking his head behind him. "He's in his office."

"Oh – right – thanks Jesse," said Ron. He hovered for a second before moving off down the hallway.

"Are you alright, Ophelia?" asked Adrien as Ron disappeared.

"Yes, yes," said Amara quickly. "Let's – ah – go to my office."

She had no idea where her office was, and it would look very odd to be looking at the name plaques. Fortunately for her, Jesse and Adrien started off first and seemed to know exactly where Ophelia's office was.

"We were going to get Rebecca Edgecombe," said Jesse as they walked. "But she had the day off. I know you've just got back, but it's quite urgent."

"Yes" said Amara, trying to figure out how she was going to blag her way out of using magic she didn't know.

"Amara!" Ron came skidding around the corner, surprising all three of them. "They know there are intruders!"

Amara swore, then swore again at Jesse and Adrien's faces. Ron swore when he realised what he'd said.

"Amara?" Jesse whispered, ogling at her. "What –"

"I'm sorry! Stay safe – we've got to go –"

Leaving a shell-shocked looking Adrien and Jesse behind them, they ran towards the lifts at full speed. The grilles clanged shut and Ron jabbed at the button numerous times.

"C'mon, c'mon hurry," he muttered.

They finally began their descent towards the courtrooms to find Harry and Hermione. Luckily for them, no one used the lift on the way down, so it was a straight ride.

The gates clanged open and a very surprising scene awaited them. Harry and Hermione's patronus' fronted a crowd of people; at the front, Mafalda and Runcorn, the former looking terrified and the crowd behind not looking much better.

"Reg!" screamed one of them, and a woman rushed forward, throwing herself into Ron's arms. "Runcorn let me out, he attacked Umbridge and Yaxley, and he's told all of us to leave the country, I think we'd better do it, Reg, I really do, let's hurry home and fetch the children and — why are you so wet?"

"Water," muttered Ron, disengaging himself and looking rather horrified. "Harry, they know there are intruders inside the Ministry, something about a hole in Umbridge's office door, I reckon we've got five minutes if that —"

Hermione's Patronus vanished with a pop as she turned a horror-struck face to Harry.

"Harry, if we're trapped here — !"

"We won't be if we move fast," said Harry. He addressed the silent group behind them, who were all gawping at him.

"Who's got wands?"

About half of them raised their hands.

"Okay, all of you who haven't got wands need to attach yourself to somebody who has. We'll need to be fast before they stop us. Come on."

Managing to cram into two lifts, they all watched Harry's Patronus stand guard as they began to move. Amara's heart was hammering a mile a minute – if they knew there were intruders, they may not be able to escape.

"Level eight," said the witch's cool voice, "Atrium."

It was not a pretty sight; it was crowded with people sealing off the fireplaces.

"Harry!" squeaked Hermione. "What are we going to — ?"

"STOP!" Harry thundered, and the powerful voice of Runcorn echoed through the Atrium: The wizards sealing the fireplaces froze. "Follow me," he whispered to the group of terrified Muggle- borns, who moved forward in a huddle, shepherded by Amara, Ron and Hermione.

"What's up, Albert?" said a nervous-looking wizard. He looked apprehensive as Harry approached.

"This lot need to leave before you seal the exits," said Harry with all the authority he could muster.

The group of wizards in front of him looked at one another. "We've been told to seal all exits and not let anyone —"

"Are you contradicting me?" Harry blustered. "Would you like me to have your family tree examined, like I had Dirk Cresswell's?"

"Sorry!" gasped the nervous wizard, backing away. "I didn't mean nothing, Albert, but I thought . . . I thought they were in for questioning and . . ."

"Their blood is pure," said Harry. "Purer than many of yours, I daresay. Off you go," he boomed to the Muggle-borns, who all but sprinted toward the fireplaces to Floo away from danger. Harry stared down at the Ministry wizards, who all seemed to be dithering and wondering if they had been right to let them go.

A voice behind Amara made her jump and look.

"Mary!"

The real Reg Cattermole was coming towards them; the woman who had hugged Ron turned around.

"R-Reg?"

Ron swore loudly as the confusion settled in – the Ministry wizards were looking between the two Reg Cattermoles' in horror.

"Hey — what's going on? What is this?" said the nervous looking wizard.

"Seal the exit! SEAL IT!"

It was the Death Eater, Yaxley, running toward them at speed, looking furious at the fact that only Mrs Cattermole remained. The nervous wizard raised his wand; before Amara could do anything, Harry raised his fist and sent him flying across the Atrium.

"He's been helping Muggle-borns escape, Yaxley!" Harry shouted.

At Harry's remark, the other wizards began to shout too, in protest, whilst Ron grabbed Mrs Cattermole and took her into the fireplace. They vanished. If Amara wasn't fearing for her life, and frozen to the spot, she would have found the confusion on Yaxley's face to be highly amusing. However, the real Reg Cattermole had begun to scream about his now-missing wife.

Amara had no idea what to do. The truth seemed to be joining up in Yaxley's brain. Ron had gone, the real Reg was still with them, Jesse and Adrien most definitely knew that she'd been with them and they were still in the Ministry.

"Come on!" Harry shouted at Amara and Hermione; he seized both of them by the hand and they jumped into the fireplace together as Yaxley's curse sailed over Harry's head. They spun for a few seconds before shooting up out of a toilet into a cubicle. Harry flung open the door; Ron was standing there beside the sinks, still wrestling with Mrs Cattermole.

"Reg, I don't understand —"

"Let go, I'm not your husband, you've got to go home!"

Amara whirled around at a noise behind them. Yaxley had whizzed into view.

"LET'S GO!" Harry yelled. Amara grabbed Ron's hand as Harry clutched hers and Hermione's hands again, before turning on the spot. Apparation with four people was dangerous enough, but the fact that something felt weird when they travelled through the compressing feeling was terrifying. Amara clutched harder on Harry and Ron's hands, trying not to pass out.

Seeing the door of number twelve, Amara nearly sagged in relief. Her relief was short-lived, however, as before she could even take a breath of air there was a scream and a flash of light, Harry's hand slipped slightly before clutching it once more. Someone had turned on the spot and they were Apparating away … Amara clutched the hands she was holding … she couldn't breathe … she couldn't think … and before she could breathe again, everything went black.