"You… You're not…"

My head spun as I tried to take in the sight of Kingsley Shacklebolt before me. I was already weakened and light-headed from the blood loss. His golden robes reflected what little light entered the room, glinting as he moved.

"First of all, I want to apologise for any distress we may have caused you," he said slowly, in his calming voice. "These are uncertain times. It can be hard to know who to trust."

"Is that why we're tied up?" Draco snapped.

I strained against my ropes once more, desperate to see him. Kingsley's eyes flickered between us.

"You will be free to move, but we shall retain your wands until after our conversation."

"That's illegal," Draco spat.

"And I do hope you'll forgive me," Kingsley said, freeing us with a wave of his wand. "But right now, the line of legality lies mostly in the hands of Lord Voldemort."

A gasp escaped my lips as the ropes slacked their hold and then fell to the ground. I staggered to my feet and turned to Draco immediately, dreading the horrors that would be forming in his mind. He refused to look into my eyes. His skin had drained deathly pale, even for him, so that he now resembled a tortured ghost. The muscles beneath his shoulders and arms had tensed right up, and his eyes had a strange, hollow look I'd never seen before. It ached my heart to see him this way, to know his very worst nightmares were coming true. I reached for his hand, not caring if Kingsley or Harry or anybody else saw. His fingers stayed limp between my own.

Kingsley's voice lowered even further. "We highly doubt it's the same man," he said. "Potter says the true Voldemort cannot return, but he also admits his judgement is not foolproof." Harry nodded in agreement. "At this stage, we're guessing the new 'Voldemort' is an impostor."

"How could you let this happen?" I whispered. "How has this been allowed?"

"You think we haven't been fighting?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed. "Are you not wondering how Kingsley is still alive?"
I thought for a moment, the answer coming to my lips at the same moment Harry confirmed it. "Polyjuice potion."

"We knew the death eaters had infiltrated the ministry," Harry continued, "so we couldn't use the auror department to impersonate Kingsley. And then we got the idea… to reform the Order of the Phoenix. We had a roster of members to impersonate Kingsley, carrying out his day duties on his orders. He hasn't been into the ministry for weeks, not since the last Wizengamot meeting."

"It's been hell," Kingsley grumbled. "Trying to do my job so remotely, feeding information through other people all the time. But," he relented, "without it, I would not be alive today."

I bit my lip, my mind racing through questions. "So… who died as you?"

Harry and Kingsley exchanged pained looks. "We can't say," Harry answered. "Our members are classified."

"Cut this bullshit," Draco snapped. I flinched at the sudden noise from beside me, like he'd snapped back to life after being so absent. He tugged his hand free from mine, still refusing to look in my direction. "What do you want us for?"

One of the aurors by the door pulled his wand slowly from his robes. I silently pleaded that Draco would control his temper, and we could leave.

Kingsley paced slowly. "The pair of you have caused a stir these past few months. Many members of the wizarding world feel invested in your fates — mostly due to Marcus Tatter's obsessive articles. It's become almost a political matter of its own. People either love or hate the pair of you. And everybody seems to be taking a side."

My stomach lurched. I knew my role at the Prophet had launched me into the fringes of the public eye, and I knew I'd been attracting attention through Marcus's articles. But I'd felt so disconnected from the wizarding world for so long. Since the ordeal at the Quidditch match and my diagnosis in St. Mungo's, I'd isolated away from everyone. It had seemed easier to deal with my looming death in that way. It was only in this moment I realised just how isolated I'd been. And Draco, too.

"You could change things significantly," Kingsley continued. He magnified, filling the entire room with the charisma that came so naturally to him. "People will listen to you. They will want to side with you. Or not. Either way, you can directly impact how this war will go."

My blood ran cold. "We're going to war?"

"Yes," Harry said. "We're hitting him early, a strategy we've never been brave enough to try before. Voldemort's tactic is always to infiltrate the ministry first, to create enough distrust and doubt that we're too frightened to rally the auror office. But now, with the reformation of the order…"

Harry's green eyes shifted to Draco. An unspoken question seemed to pass between the pair.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Draco said.

"I thought you'd be the first to jump at the chance," Harry replied.

"It's not him, Potter. You said so yourself. I'm not getting muddled up in your ministry antics, only to be locked in a fucking cell again."

"We were hoping to extract you," Harry said, his voice rising in frustration. "We had to keep you safe."

"And what about my parents?" Draco was shouting now, his face contorted in rage. "What about their safety? You're blackmailing them into being puppets!"
Even Harry was growing angry, breathing in heavy spurts through his nose. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't lie to me!"

Harry flicked his wand and Draco was thrown back across the room, slamming into the wall so viciously he flopped to the ground like a rag-doll.

"You want to know the truth about your parents?" Harry fumed. The one lightbulb, hanging by a string, flickered dangerously. "They were among the first people to cross back to the dark side again. They helped establish this Voldemort, whoever the fuck he is. They wanted him returned to power. The only reason they're not rotting in Azkaban is because they fed us all the information they knew, and they've continued to ever since!"

Draco was still unmoving. I ran across to him, placing a hand tenderly on his upper arm, while Harry continued to vent.

"The worst thing you ever did for them was get arrested in diagon alley. They had no choice then, did they? Had to behave, knowing we could have you in Azkaban at any moment."

I gasped. "You kept him in there intentionally? To use against Lucius?"

Kingsley stepped forward. "Potter, that's enough."

I looked between them. My once hero and idol, the man I'd mourned, and the saviour of the wizarding world. And in that moment, I felt nothing but disgust.

"I'd like to leave," I said, refusing the tremble threatening to creep into my voice. "Are we allowed? Or does that legality lie in the hands of Voldemort, too?"

"I must ask you to reside in this building, for your own safety," Kingsley said. "Voldemort will be looking for you."

"I'm not surprised," I hissed, "as you've plastered our names across every newspaper in the wizarding world for days."

"Miss Greengrass, let me put this quite simply. There is no ministry of magic anymore. The death eaters have infiltrated at such a level, even Potter is struggling to differentiate who is truly on our side. This has been perhaps the most deathly attack of all, purely because of its silence."

I hauled Draco to his feet. He was barely conscious, his head lolling on his shoulders, but I persevered my struggle in carrying his weight. I had to get us out of there.

"I know you think us despicable," Kingsley said softly as I reached the door. "But we've had to make some tough choices. To ensure the survival of our kind as we know it."

I scowled. "Sounds an awful lot like Grindelwald's Greater Good shit to me." I turned uncertainly to Harry. "May we have our wands?"
He waved a hand at the two aurors stood by the door, and they handed our wands over.

"There are many rooms on the second floor," Kingsley said. "Take your pick."

I didn't look back once as I hauled Draco out of the room and up the marble staircase.