WARNING: This is old material that I will be revising. I'm leaving it up for those wishing to read on.

Chapter A-10: Monsters

Friday afternoon, Harry had a Hawaiian shirt on underneath his dragon hide. He activated his Portkey and they all held on.

They left Hogwarts with the familiar pull at their navels, then a jolt and a pull, they changed directions, once, then twice, then a third time.

"What's happening?" Harry shouted.

They started spinning and spinning. Vomit flew as they puked. The Portkey grew hot and then vanished. They fell, tumbling, onto hard stone, a snap came from Gia's left arm. Blackness overcame their eyes. Uncomfortable collars snapped around their necks with clicks. Foreign hands moved quick, tearing clothing apart, groping on their skin, and feeling around.

"No wands present," a heavy voice said, "No other weapons either."

Blackness lifted, the four found themselves under a bright lights shining from above, shadows of blackness encompassed them, though tips of wands could be seen aimed at them. All four laid on their backs, heavy ankle cuffs anchored their legs to the floor, silver cuffs wrapped around each of their wrists, and stiff metal collars enclosed their necks.

"Where are we?" Harry demanded.

"Possession and operation of unregistered Portkeys is a capital offense for you," said a thick voice.

Water trickling into drains could be heard in the distance.

"Under what authority?" Harry demanded.

"Under the authority of Minister for Magic." Fallerschain stepped forward out of the darkness enough to let his face be dimly seen. "Your executions will commence at 8:30am, Monday."

"What about a trial?" Harry demanded, "Does Dumbledore know—?"

"No and no," Fallerschain said, "First, you have no rights, second, Dumbledore will be made aware after the fact."

"Unauthorized Portkeys are not a capital offense," Ron protested.

"For others, I would agree," Fallerschain said, "For you, summary execution is permissible under the terms of the Suspected Dark Wizard Control Act."

Harry put his hand over his torn clothes, a giant electrical arc formed inside the collar about his neck, and the smell of burnt flesh permeated the room.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you," Fallerschain said, "Those collars are studded with some type of crystals that turn magic into electricity. Don't understand the principles myself, but I do know that the harder you try, the worse it is, too much and you're dead. Removal of those collars guarantees a painful death, more painful than your slated executions."

Their cuffs forced their hands together, a draft from above kept them from warming under the bright and hot lamp.

"This is an abuse of your authority—" Hermione protested.

"Think I care Mudblood?" Fallerschain said, "You'd have to report it first, and I dare say, that's now impossible for you."

Fallerschain walked around them, his footsteps of his hard soled shoes echoed as his feet hit the hard and cold stone floor.

"All this just to save your political neck?" Harry said, "What a pathetic—"

"Dare I pay attention to one who is under lock and key the moment?" Fallerschain said, "That EM was utterly right about you—needing to be disposed of."

"That have nearly succeeded in removing-" Harry started, "They have fallen you in the midst of Voldemort's-"

In the shadows, outlines of robed figures stood, wands glimmered in the light.

"Oh," Fallerschain said, "They will think they have succeeded, I have no doubts there. Bloody menace, the lot of them, too hard to control, they're really convinced that you're guilty—"

"I'm innocent!" Harry protested.

"A small technicality, I know," Fallerschain said.

"A technicality?" Harry said, "You've been hoodwinked too—"

"A large assumption," Fallerschain said.

"Draco Malfoy!" Harry said, "He's been framing us all along—"

"I know," Fallerschain stated.

One figure stepped forward, lowered his hood to show the blond hair and gray eyes of Draco Malfoy, grinning.

"He knows," Draco Malfoy said, "He knew everything."

"You knew Minister?" Hermione said, "All along you knew Harry was innocent? All along, you've been railroading him for crimes you knew Malfoy was committing? That means—"

"A bit dull witted Mudbloods can be," Fallerschain said, "Just now you're figuring it out?"

Malfoy snickered as two more figures stepped forward, that of Crabbe and Goyle.

"Why you—!" Ron demanded.

"Come now," Fallerschain said, "Assaulting a—"

"Damn with them!" Harry snapped.

"Congratulations Potter," Fallerschain said, "For I've known that you've been innocent since the start, you no good halfblood! You could have avoided all of this, simply by having taken Malfoy's hand in friendship, by taking my Lord's hand in power, but no, you had to follow the pathetic Dumbledore. You failed to realize that who your friends were is very important in the wizarding world—by turning your back on Malfoy, you turned your back on everyone with any influence! It became clear that you were a snotty brat whose ego needed deflating."

A cold laughter echoed in the corridors.

"How could you know?" Ron said, "You didn't exist before you were Minister—"

"How correct," Fallerschain said, "You should rephrase that to say Victor Fallerschain did not exist—that was a fabrication my Lord and I created so I could gain untarnished access to the Ministry at a time they were looking for unknown outsiders. I was raised as Chad Lestrange, the illegitimate son of Bellatrix Lestrange—shunned into an orphanage for many years before learning of my Pureblood heritage."

Ron's collar started arcing.

"Careful Weasley," Fallerschain said, "Wouldn't want to deprive my lord of his ceremonial executions now, would we?"

"Gah!" Harry exclaimed.

"Glad you are impressed," Fallerschain said, "After my lord helped in my transformation, I assumed the role he wanted me to play, that of Minister for Magic without anybody getting suspicious."

"Your speeched renouncing Dark Arts were—?" Gia asked.

"Well, a candidate promoting the Power Arts would never be elected as Minister," Fallerschain said, "Besides, I had to placate to the people, play upon their fear that a new Dark Lord would rise to take the place of the old—You got nominated to fulfill that fear. Aw, the poetic justice—"

"Major injustice—" Harry protested.

"Call it what you will," Fallerschain said, "Point was there was nothing you could do or say to change my public mind about you—I presumed you guilty in every crime even though I knew it was somebody else, be it Malfoy or Flint or another loyal servant. I knew it was Malfoy who murdered in Hogsmeade, I was even forewarned—"

Malfoy stuck his tongue out.

"You dropped the charges," Harry said.

"Fool," Fallerschain said, "You know nothing of tactics. Every so often, declare peace, it confuses the bloody heck out of your enemies1. For I know you've been innocent, well, of the crimes I've charged you with, save this Portkey and Apparation. You are guilty of getting in the way and being a nuisance, but you'll be dead soon, so I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

"What all did you know?" Harry asked.

Fallerschain adjusted the folds of his robe-suit.

"Blimey! Everything!" Fallerschain said, "Remember, I was appointed as Interim Minister for a bit, but I couldn't do too much then. I knew Malfoy and his friends leveled that rat nest you Weasleys called home. Malfoy then got rid of those muggles relatives of yours Potter, that way you couldn't return to its safety. He destroyed that muggle hospital to make you feel chased—we didn't want you to prove foul, which you could have so easily have done then, before your name got tarnished. Malfoy took to it to starting at Hogwarts by initiating those rumors, rumors you'd naturally deny, thereby getting yourself labeled a habitual liar. I believe Flint came to Hogwarts to help Malfoy with that armor that nearly killed you—that was out of line, our Lord wasn't happy about nearly killing you then—"

"He wanted me alive then?" Harry asked.

"Oh he wants you dead-at the right time," Fallerschain said, "For, at first, we were merely worried about possible martyrdom, but, we found another use for keeping you alive, that is, until Monday, at which point, you'll be executed for the crimes of others. Oh, welcome to Azkaban, wing B, which has been unused for years—need not concern yourselves as you'll be spending just a couple of days here"

"Azkaban?" Harry exclaimed.

Harry's voice reverberated throughout the caverns; Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle laughed and laughed.

"If I didn't like the torture this imposes, I'd have better things to do," Fallerschain said, "Enjoy the audit—that was to get to you by the way. After that, Malfoy ran rampant, apparently collected some of your hairs while you were out in the Hospital wing, enough to do damage. Then, Malfoy arranged that first set of murders in Hogsmeade—gave us the opportunity to collect hairs for the rest of you while you were in custody. I found it hilarious how quickly people would abandon you—especially after Malfoy poisoned the school lunch and framed you. My, my, after that, I imagined you hated attending Hogwarts, which likely made my imposition of suspensions seem like a relief to you."

"Other Hogsmeade incident—?" Harry asked.

"I personally handed Malfoy his wand back to escape with," Fallerschain said, "We didn't realize that twit Dumbledore had something planned—but fortunately, the press didn't buy the two-places excuse, thinking instead that a truly Dark Wizard could pull it off."

Malfoy flipped Harry off.

"That committee was for nothing!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It wasn't for nothing," Fallerschain said, "I wanted Potter to seem out of control—them ordering you to change friends was hilarious. Didn't anticipate that Muggle court's response, but that played into the perception we were building, that you were always exempted from the rules—billing you for the harassment was genius."

"Your tantrums really added fuel to the fire," Malfoy said, "Your getting drunk—didn't figure that out until I learned about your Portkeys. Such snobbery to have such a privilege not afforded to the common students—still, your not being around helped in killing any alibis you could have afforded."

"Watching the mudblood's parents beg for mercy?" Nott said, coming out of the shadows, "Quite fun to watch."

"And you two were so sloppy in leaving behind evidence that I had to scrub the inquiry into Potter's role," Fallerschain said, "That totally fouled things up there—had to drop the suggestion of Dark Arts instead. Those papers really sucked that idea up."

"Finnigan and Thomas were badmouthing you totally Potter," Malfoy said, "I suggested they organize—they bought that. Wormtail helped outside of Hogwarts. Next thing we knew, we had an organization dedicated to eradicating you. So dangerously effective that we were afraid it'd succeed, at least with Potter—your sidekicks never mattered. Everybody fell for it, that was the kicker—the size of Finch-Fletchley's eyes when he realized it was me doing him in."

Malfoy laughed as he strolled around the four bound to the floor.

"You managed to prove how dangerous that EM is," Flint, stepping into the light said, "When you tricked them into destroying the Wizard's Mall—something I had spent a year working on, something that facilitated the closure of Knockturn Alley as is."

"That pacified the population," Fallerschain said, "They thought me a good guy—though a bit slow nowadays on the Potter crisis, which is about to be resolved."

"Those EM bounties—?" Harry asked.

"Real," Fallerschain said, "Well, we gave it a start, to keep that fool Dumbledore preoccupied on protecting you at all costs—we knew he would given the prophecy he heard, the one whose contents are well known to our lord. If I had cared even a shred about you, I wouldn't have ordered that castration, but it seemed poetic and Mr. Patil was rather insistent."

Fallerschain, Nott, Malfoy, and Flint toasted bottles of Firewhiskey.

"Patil had a nice hole Potter," Malfoy said, "Was informed you got chased out in a hail of projectiles. Yes, I raped Pavarti Patil. Yes, I gave assistance to the EM when they assaulted you—I wanted you to leave Hogwarts. Classes were so much enjoyable without your snotty presence—though I missed Professor Snape bearing down on you, but that was a small price to pay."

"Malfoy certainly managed a rather large supply of your hairs," Flint said, "Absolutely reckless you were—he couldn't have gained that much otherwise. Gave you the reputation of being Dark Wizards indeed."

"After Malfoy jinxed your broomsticks for that Quidditch game," Fallerschain said, "We could move, get Dumbledore's precious Order ruled illegal—makes recruiting a bit difficult, which we wanted to do, build up the numbers of loyal servants while keeping you all preoccupied with saving your necks. I legitimized the EM bounties with that SDWCA, with enough provisions to justify your executions at the appropriate time, for the mere use of Apparation or wands made you guilty, which you've so generously done on many occasions."

"Made it easy to punish you for what I did to MacDonald," Malfoy said, "Totally easy."

"You should've been kissing your lucky stars that nobody did a good investigation," Fallerschain said, "Your handiwork could be seen all over—but fortunately, everybody who could've noticed were preoccupied."

"Those bats were fun to breed," Flint said, "That Oaf fell right for it and opened the damn crate. Later had to silence him, for Dumbledork was snooping into too much for the trial."

"Which allowed me to reject the document requests," Fallerschain said, "Unfortunately, had to expunge the best, yet nosiest, of auditors, he had caught onto our game—was about to spill—"

"Percy was my brother!" Ron shouted.

"Then you should've thought twice about letting him snoop into matters that were none of his concern," Fallerschain said, "He had already caught onto our writing of the Potter Pacts and how we were planning on kicking you out of your house Potter—that'd give you probable cause to go on that international murdering spree Wormtail and Lestrange organized on your behalf, after all, we wanted those Pacts to pass."

"To help," Malfoy said, "I kept making students disappear—some turned up dead, unfortunately, due to some rough handling, including an old crush of yours."

In came a short balding man.

"Our Lord reminds you," Wormtail said, "He reminds you to not waste time giving them stuff they need not know—we still have many things to do."

Fallerschain walked away with Wormtail. Malfoy leaned in.

"You're defeated Potter," Malfoy said, "Ever heard of the Merlin's Staff? Of course not, though your mudblood pet might have. Wonder why we pushed the Potter Pact's so hard? Those fools have placed my Lord in charge, he's got the Merlin's Staff, whose only condition is your deaths. My Lord will take his place, making your deaths a part of his inauguration ceremony. Your blood will pave the way to a glorious new future for all of wizarding kind—something they wouldn't have had the opportunity of without you. A future in which ability is praised and everything is put into the proper order. The name Malfoy will garner respect from every person on this planet."

Malfoy laughed, turned his back.

"I wouldn't try to struggle Potter," Flint said, "Those collars, they absorb magic, and while it shocks you, they might kill a companion. Tampering is ill-advised, for they are rigged to explode into what's supposed to be a horrendous death. I think my Lord merely intends to slit your throats. Don't fret about escape—this is Azkaban with plenty of demeantors eager to kiss you."

Flint turned and left; Crabbe and Goyle left.

"Damn," Harry said.

"What do we do?" Ron asked.

"Dunno yet," Harry said.

The stone beneath them disappeared, they fell. Gia screamed. They hit stone floor covered in an inch of salty water; waves flowed across in the darkness.

"Gia?" Harry asked.

"My arm," Gia said, "Broken, I think—hurts like hell."

Metal scraping, water moving, echoed in their chamber, Harry inched toward Gia's voice.

"Do we have anything to splint this with?" Harry asked.

"Dunno," Ron said, "These irons make it difficult."

"Inch your way," Harry said, "At least we're not tied down."

"Can't see," Hermione said, "No light."

"There's a little bit of light," Harry said, "I'm starting to see."

Their eyes adjusted to the dim light coming in through an opening in the side of the room, from floor to ceiling, but covered with a mesh of metal bars, barbed wire, and other restraints. Through which, was opened to the open sea, for wave after wave would crash across rocks and into this room, an inch below the mean sea level.

"Duh!" Ron said, "Now I remember—wing B was designed for specialized interrogations, torture."

"They aren't going to put us up in a Hilton," Harry said, "That's for certain, but why not a normal cell?"

"Depends on how many are involved with the core plot," Hermione said, "With the Minister directly involved, the rest of the Ministry could easily have been blind but filled with hatred."

Ron managed to stand up and then hop, water was splashed as he hopped around the unfurnished cold cell.

"Nothing for splints," Ron said, "If it weren't for these shackles, I'd hand over my dragon hide for use."

"Far wall then," Harry said, "Help you two."

Ron and Hermione helped Harry move Gia to the far wall; then they crowded to each side.

"It's a tad shallower here," Harry said, feeling the half inch of water.

"Standards of construction weren't on their minds then," Gia said.

"Heck no," Ron said, "Likely want us just barely enough alive to kill."

"Broken bones—they won't care," Harry said, "Stay bunched together—keep us warm longer."

"Sucks that they've won," Hermione said, "Nearly everybody fell for it."

"They haven't won yet," Harry said, "Don't give up."

"Haven't won?" Hermione said, "They've captured us—"

"Unless we're dead," Harry said, "There's hope in an escape—"

"From Azkaban?" Ron exclaimed.

"Sirius did it," Harry said.

Gia shook, Harry and Ron pushed in tighter.

"If only we knew the truth a year ago," Hermione said.

"Would anybody have believed us then?" Harry said, "They certainly wont after we escape."

"Dumbledore will," Ron said.

"Like that's done us much good so far," Harry said, "It's obvious that the Minister has wanted us free all along—that way, we lacked a solid alibis of being in Azkaban."

"I'm tired Harry," Gia said.

"Don't go to sleep!" Harry said, "We need a way out—any ideas?"

"Can any of us reach our pockets?" Hermione said, "I know you two rarely empties yours."

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed, "I can't even wiggle my fingers!"

A giant swell moved inward, flooded the cell, and they all blacked out.

"You idiot—they are to be kept alive, emphasis on LIVING!"

"Dumping them down there wasn't MY idea."

"Whose the bloody was it then? Certainly not our Lord's."

"Careful or we'll lose them."

"While your neck may be at risk, he's been pleased with MY performance—you're dead if his disfavor turns on me."

"Weasel's waking."

Ron's eyes opened, saw that they were on gurneys, all four of them. Around them were Malfoy and Flint.

"What'd you up to?" Ron demanded.

"Couldn't let you die and miss the excitement," Malfoy said, "First a show—just remember, any attempt to flee and we explode those collars starting with your mudblood."

Harry, Hermione, and Gia slowly woke.

"When is it?" Ron asked.

"Sunday," Malfoy said, "Felt it better to keep you under to thwart escaping—my Lord wishes for you to witness something."

Malfoy squeezed Gia's boobs with both hands, her dragon hide jacket was well parted in the front exposing them.

"See why you like these Potter," Malfoy said, "Perhaps a good taxidermist can save them—love to mount them on my living room wall."

"Get your hands off of her," Harry said.

"Or you'll do what?" Malfoy said, "You're bound—any magic and she goes up in smoke. We're tired of dragging you around, so you will march forward keeping in mind we can make matters really, really, painful for you."

Malfoy and Flint stood back, wands were aimed; behind them were a number of other robed figures with wands aimed. Their shackles unbolted themselves and fell to the ground.

"March," Malfoy ordered.

They marched forward.

Harry stumbled as they entered a courtyard, clouds above darkened things to a dim, on the perimeter were several Demeantors. In the middle, with red eyes, was—

"Voldemort," Harry muttered.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said, "I trust you have been informed of your role to be played tomorrow."

"You're mad!" Hermione said, "The people—"

Voldemort glared at Hermione.

"The people have voted me into power," Voldemort said, "My authority as Minister for Magic and supreme leader is both legal and absolute—forever."

"B—but you promised me Minister for life-" Fallerschain said, "I orchestrated-"

"Indeed you did," Voldemort said, "You are indeed Minister for life."

"Thank you my Lord," Fallerschain said, bowing.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort enchanted.

Gasps came as Fallerschain slumped to the ground.

"I never promised for how long that life might be," Voldemort explained, "The deputy is now Minister. I have you to thank Potter for help make this possible, I also have a little demonstration to show you the price of interfering in my plans. Malfoy, front and center."

The other Death Eaters present retreated, allowing Draco Malfoy to walk slowly forward. Malfoy bent over, kissed the hem of Voldemort's robe.

"Yes," Malfoy said, "My Lord."

"Did they or did they not catch you on Halloween?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes my Lord," Malfoy said.

"Are you dead?" Voldemort asked.

"No my Lord," Malfoy said, "They interfered—"

"Excuses, excuses," Voldemort said.

"I've done many things," Malfoy said, "I can learn from my mistakes-"

"Failure must be penalized, but you are capable of thought," Voldemort said, "You will need to demonstrate your conviction to carry on by spilling the blood of another, one whose blood runs through your skin.

"Wormtail."

Wormtail and Flint brought forth a blond hair woman, she had a silver studded collar around her neck.

"Mum?" Draco Malfoy asked.

Voldemort took possession of Draco Malfoy's wand, replaced it with a dagger.

"You can either spill her blood or your own," Voldemort said, "Your choice—but it will be done with the dagger."

Voldemort stepped back. Wormtail shoved Narcissa Malfoy forward. Around Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, to the greatest extent possible, razor sharp swords jutted up from the floor entrapping the mother and son into a cage. Harry leaned back to keep the sword blade away from him.

"Watch Potter," Voldemort said, "See what is wrought when you interfere—this blood is on your hands."

"No it's not," Ron whispered.

Draco laid his black robe onto the floor, then gripped the dagger. He stared at his mother, both entrapped in the forty foot diameter cornerless pen.

"Draco," Narcissa said, "Enough of this foolishness."

Narcissa caught the glint in Draco's eye, she backed up. A small earthen wall materialized midway between her and Draco. Draco leapt onto the earthen wall, bringing them ten feet together.

"Little Dragon!" Narcissa pleaded.

"I've always hated that!" Draco snapped.

Draco lunged at her, she sprinted to her right. Narcissa tripped over a materializing root, tossing her into a new swamp, a shard of her right blouse sleeve caught onto the blade of a sword. She rolled out, her entire top tore off leaving her bare breasted.

"Eww..." Ron muttered.

Draco Malfoy smiled, advanced to the edge of the swamp, then frowned; all of his clothes vanished save a huge nappy.

"Umm..." Gia muttered.

"Simple, allows for negative magic," Hermione said, "Each opponent can wish embarrassment onto the other—in this case, Draco wished to expose his mother, she retaliated. They're going to reduce themselves to animals—"

"Which he is," Ron whispered.

Narcissa ran, alongside the swords. Draco pursued, then tripped as his nappy fell. Draco stepped out, then chased.

"Him starkers—?" Hermione whispered, "I'd lose my lunch—"

Ron snickered.

"Draco!" Narcissa pleaded, not for the last time.

Draco continued to pursue.

"Mother!" Draco shouted.

Draco gained slowly, they circled to the other side, when Draco swung the dagger slitting across Narcissa's shoulder bone. Draco stopped for a moment, slinked back.

"Either hers or yours," Voldemort said.

Narcissa fled to on top of the earthen mound. Draco flung the dagger, it struck Narcissa in the foot—the dagger vanished. She crumpled to the ground, which gave Draco enough time to tackle her. Draco then looked at Harry. Draco punched Narcissa, and then raped her. She struggled, he pounded. The swords vanished, everybody moved closer; Harry, Ron, Gia, and Hermione only moved closer due to the wand tips pressing into their necks.

"You filthy—" Narcissa shouted.

"I don't give a damn!" Draco exclaimed, then added in another punch to her jaw.

Draco tore with his fingers at the dagger wound on her backside. Narcissa screamed as Draco pulled shards of flesh off. Draco dislocated joints, then tore with a blunt rock at her chest. He created a gap in her flesh, blood was on them both. He reached his hand in, pulled, and brought forth her beating heart with arteries reaching back in. Draco slathered her blood over his skin with his other hand, she laid there paralyzed but screaming. Her heart contracted, expanded, beating slower and slower, until a half minute passed and Narcissa ceased movement. Draco tore at the heart, then showered in her blood.

"Do not fail me again Malfoy," Voldemort said.

Draco Malfoy stood up, he had red blood covering every part of his skin. He walked over to Harry.

"This was your fault," Malfoy said, "I shall never forget—"

"You murdered her, not me," Harry said, "You had the choice to flee before tonight, you had the choice of suicide, but you chose your own skin over your mothers—you should never forget that."

Malfoy spat at Harry's feet.

"Escort our prisoners back, Malfoy," Voldemort ordered.

"Move," Malfoy ordered at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia, "Move or—remember what you witnessed, I could easily do it to you."

Malfoy marched them, dagger in hand, back toward their cell. They reached their cell, Malfoy opened the door and pointed his wand, in a side firepit, a flame lit.

"Move it!" Malfoy said, "Just have to survive the night—I'll get my revenge in the morning Potter."

Harry's eyes surveyed the naked Draco Malfoy covered in his mothers blood.

"It was your decision, not mine," Harry said, "Be careful, you might lose your nards next time."

"There won't be a next time," Malfoy sneered, "Move!"

Harry entered the cell, the door closed with a click. The water was up to their ankles, they waded over to the bench beside the fire.

"Malfoy's ticked he had to murder—bull," Ron said, "I don't bloody believe it given how much he's murdered—"

"Hush!" Harry said, "Watch."

Harry moved his wrists apart.

"They forgot to recuff us," Harry whispered, "We're escaping—Malfoy will lose his nards over it."

"How?" Ron whispered.

"Shh!" Harry whispered.

Hermione's eyes arched open.

"My arm?" Gia asked in a whisper.

"Escape first," Harry whispered, "There may be ears—change the topic."

Harry sat down, not too far from the fire.

"Any ideas of what his first motion will be?" Hermione asked.

Harry's hands went into the pockets of his dragon hide jacket, he pulled out his SigARM p239. Ron shook his head.

"What's this bastard always wanted?" Gia asked.

"Genocide of muggleborns," Harry said, "Remember Macnair's intrusion? That was likely the start."

Harry reached into Ron's jacket pockets, pulled them out empty.

"Blimey!" Ron said, "Make the first war look like nothing more than a classroom fight."

Harry then reached into Gia's jacket pockets, he pulled out a wire framed bra.

"Harry!" Gia whispered.

"What sucks is people have literally handed him the keys!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Have an idea," Harry whispered, "These collars are mainly muggle technology."

"Come on," Ron said, "No point in shivering, crowd around."

Ron pushed, bunched them a bit tighter. Harry stripped the wire out of the bra. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"And you thought that class was pointless," Ron whispered.

Hermione snorted.

"Anything to eat?" Gia asked.

"Why bother?" Hermione said, "About to be executed—not like we really need it."

"Perhaps," Ron said, "perhaps we could catch something in this water."

They could see the shimmer of a fish swimming in the water of their cell floor. Harry studied Gia's collar, parted her hair in the back, and continued studying.

"Fortunately," Harry whispered, "They aren't up to speed on the latest muggle technology."

"You weren't very good at fishing Ron," Hermione said, watching Harry's finger movements.

Harry inserted the wire into two different holes on opposite sides of the lock. Harry then removed a penknife out of his coat, clicked it into the lock, and opened it. Slowly, he pulled the collar up and over Gia's neck.

"It did seem pointless at the time," Hermione whispered.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, "Need three more wires—dare not let this detonate until we need it."

"I was too good at fishing," Ron said, "I caught you, didn't I?"

Hermione removed the other wire from the bra. Gia got out another and removed the wires. Harry gently set the collar down onto the bench, then removed his penknife.

"As I recall," Hermione said, "I nearly swam up your trouser leg—anybody else—"

"Could we change the subject?" Harry said, "I'd prefer not to alienate us from ourselves on the eve of our execution—stories or something. Like, how often did you take piano lessons Hermione?"

Hermione glared at Harry for a moment.

"Just start talking," Harry whispered, "Want nothing of interest to anybody listening."

"Mum would always drag me," Hermione said, "Three days a week; I could count on her to be there, after school, with the engine running, and my piano music on the front seat of the automobile."

Harry worked on Ron's collar with the next wire.

"For four years," Hermione said, "For four years, we did this—not my idea of fun."

Harry removed Ron's collar by sliding it up and over his head, he set it down next to Gia's. Harry handed Ron the penknife.

"We can thank Sirius later," Harry whispered.

Ron took a wire, started working on Harry's collar.

"I wanted to take piano lessons," Gia said, "Ane thought them to be too expensive—we should've traded places."

"I think Mum would've wised up to that," Hermione said, "Of course, if I had complained to Dad—he referred the matter to Mum and she wouldn't listen to my protests."

Ron turned the penknife, slid the collar up and over Harry's head, setting it beside the other two.

"I'm doing Hermione," Ron whispered.

Ron moved over, grabbed the last wire, and started to work.

"Parents—dunno what to do," Harry said, "Of course, we've all out survived ours, but still. Oh, I still remember Mrs. Weasley's look after you all rescued me before our second year. Remember that Ron?"

"It's a look I'd like to forget," Ron said, "Dad's reaction was even better—I could tell who was in charge."

"Best to remember that," Hermione said.

"Not like we've got long to worry about that," Ron said, "Unfortunately, it'd put an end to a good share of Fred and George's business—they'd have to go back to just jokes."

"Doubt they'd do that," Harry said, "They'll find something else."

Ron snorted as he removed Hermione's collar.

"What—?" Hermione whispered.

"I am more than certain they'll find something else." Harry stood up.

"Remember those slugs?" Ron asked.

Harry stood up, carried each of the four collars to the metal grate, placing them around the middle. Hermione nodded. Harry attached threads to each of the wires, bringing them back and handed them over to Gia.

"Those slugs—hilarious after you tried to hex Malfoy with that wand of yours," Hermione said, "You were puking them up for hours."

"Hagrid didn't like them near the pumpkins," Harry said.

"Are we planning to swim?" Hermione whispered, "Too far, too cold."

"Be happy their summoning charms couldn't reach into dragon hide," Harry whispered, "Ron, get it out."

"Any gardener wouldn't like slugs near their garden," Gia said, "Perfectly natural."

Ron and Harry reached into their trouser pockets, pulled out their Whitehorns. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"As long as it works," Gia whispered.

Harry stashed his SigARM p239 back into his pocket, mounted his broom.

"I bumped into Hagrid in Knockturn Alley," Harry said, "Remember, when I stuttered and came out the wrong fireplace? He was buying a repellent for the flesh eating slugs he was having difficulties with." He dropped his voice. "Mount, wands at the ready. Hold on tight Gia."

"Of course," Hermione said, "Lending your wand to the Whomping Willow—you deserved having it broken like that."

Hermione and Gia mounted; they distributed one thread to each.

"Pull!" Harry shouted.

They pulled in unison, the collars exploded, vaporizing the grate. Footsteps could be heard rushing toward them. Harry and Ron flew outward, then rolled to avoid curses.

"We can't fly all the way," Hermione said.

"Don't need to," Harry said, "Just get outside the wards."

They flew low and fast across the water, curses missed them, and they passed through a blue film, the darkness of a black and cloudy night was replaced with partial clouds, some stars were poking through, and muggle ships could be seen in the distance. Gia shivered.

"Dunno about you," Gia said, "Wearing nothing but dragon hide isn't exactly warm."

"Fred and George deserve a big thank you when we get back," Hermione said, "A royally big one."

"Where to?" Ron asked.

"Only one place we can—here," Harry said, "Grab me."

Harry closed the distance until they were clustered side by side, all grabbed a bit of Harry's flesh. Harry disapparated them all. They apparated over Hogsmeade—nobody below was paying attention to the skies this night. Harry lead the way, over the lake and the waving Giant Squid, up to the castle. They traveled to the first floor; Harry opened a cracked window and flew in.

"Mr. Potter!"

Over came Madam Pomfrey, to the four of them; slime covered the dragon hide boots, trousers, and jackets that they were wearing. Pomfrey immediately closed the jackets of Hermione and Gia to hide their bare chests.

"And inappropriate—" Pomfrey said.

"Quiet!" Harry said, "Check Gia—she's got a broken arm. Get Notley here—I'll consent to an examination if that'll make you feel better, eventually. I have another matter to tend to—"

"I have the authority—" Pomfrey said.

"I AM the Student Headmaster," Harry said, "I will act accordingly."

Harry disapparated.

"And he is acting no different than the current Headmaster," Pomfrey said as she started tending to Gia.

A number of students were gathered in the Great Hall for supper. Dumbledore was sitting at the Staff Table.

Pop

Harry apparated into the Great Hall, on top of the staff table, his feet smashing into Dumbledore's dessert plate. His dragon hide jacet was dripping slime over Dumbledore's cake.

"Mr. Potter!" Dumbledore exclaimed.

Harry turned to the students instead, and then spoke in a monotone.

"Hogwarts no longer recognizes the authority of the Ministry of Magic or the International Confederation of Wizards or any other authority of the Wizarding World."

Dumbledore looked up at Harry. "That is for me to decide."

Harry spun, lowered, and looked at Dumbledore.

"Voldemort has the Merlin's Staff," Harry whispered.

"Albus?" McGonagall asked.

Mud dripped off Harry's trousers onto the table, he then jumped off the table landing behind Dumbledore.

"Mr. Potter is correct." Dumbledore rose. "All staff members are to meet in the antechamber immediately."

"They deserve to understand the consequences of their actions," Harry said.

Harry jumped over the staff table, landed in front.

"Treason!" Finnigan shouted as he shook a pointed hand at Harry.

"You helped, through action, or complacency." Harry glanced about the room. "in Voldemort's coup, that has him as both your Minister for Magic and as the supreme authority of the Wizarding World-" Many quizzical looks came his direction "-just what did you think the Potter Pacts were for?"

Harry took a breath.

"Enjoy your new tomorrow," Harry said, "You paid for it, with much blood, pain, and suffering, you have really earned it."

His shirt fluttered as he spun and then hopped over the Staff Table. Hands in his pockets, he walked slowly toward the door to the Antechamber. Dumbledore, two paces ahead, stumbled. Harry rushed and steadied Dumbledore's arm; he reached around and helped keep Dumbledore's balance.

Never, in her years of teaching of Hogwarts, nor in the lore of the years before her time, had Minerva ever heard of anything so outlandish for Hogwarts, as a whole, to adopt a position of outright treason. Traditionally, the general neutrality of Hogwarts has helped to keep it out of harms way. Today was certainly not tradition, and every teacher certainly had their own opinion while only few could stay their tongues.

"Scandalous!" Flitwick exclaimed, "Hogwarts is first and foremost a learning institution!"

"You may wish to remind the Activist Headmaster of-" Snape said.

"By activist, I presume you to mean," McGonagall said, "is that Albus Dumbledore should turn a blind eye to the suffering of many at the hands of a few-"

"Perhaps there would less suffering if he didn't stir up the cauldron so much!" Madam Poppy exclaimed.

"If you truly believe that," Harry said as he finished entering the Antechamber, "then you're just as culpable as that lot of swarmy blokes out there."

Dumbledore sat down at the nearest chair, his eyes twinkled as Harry walked into the middle of the teachers. All, including Snape, yielded by stepping back enough for Harry to have space. At that moment, Minerva realized what Albus had been up to over the past year, doing the greatest thing that You-Know-Who could never do-train and then yield to a successor to take charge. This teenager in front of them, with magic oozing out the pores on his blemished face, stood up to the challenge.

"Minister Fallerschain was a Death Eater-" Harry stated.

"We would have known if-" Snape said, which earned him a look from Harry.

"You overrate your importance." Harry looked away from Snape. "We never made the honeymoon-our Portkeys were redirected, by Fallerschain, to a minor island off Azkaban's Isle, to be held pending an execution for tomorrow, as a celebration of sort. With his murder of the Minister and the Potter Pacts, tomorrow Voldemort will be both the Minister for Magic and hold the Merlin's Staff."

"Merlin's Staff?" Poppy asked, loudly.

"Can we rescind it?" Tonks asked.

"In twelve hours?" Dumbledore spat.

"Once anointed," Harry said, "the holder bears it until death, is replaced, or abdicates it-and we all know Voldemort will not do the later. Death or replacement are our options."

"Six months is a record, far quicker than the usual decade of endless debate," Dumbledore said, "Minerva, recall the governors..." he drifted into sleep.

"Professor Flitwick is correct about the students-and they need to learn Apparation this week," Harry said, "We should prepare to evacuate them when we must, but not with either the Floo Network nor Portkeys. Professor Tonks, I'll help you reinforce the castle."

Flesh of the feet against the stone, Harry started for the door. Minerva looked at the gash on Harry's chest.

"A brief visit to the Hospital Wing would be in order Mr. Potter," Minerva said.

"Unimportant, Professor," Harry said, "This is more urgent."

Harry left.

"I'll talk sense into him," Tonks whispered toward Minerva, and then left.

After the remaining teachers left, Minerva glanced at Dumbledore slumped in the chair. His eyes fluttered open and resumed their twinkle.

"Albus, you need to see Madam Pomfrey-" Minerva said.

"I am perfectly-" Dumbledore protested.

"You fainted-and it's not like this is the first time-"

"A momentary flutter-I heard everything that Mr. Potter said." Dumbledore held one of his canes tightly, which barely kept him in the chair. "My final task is finished."

"Nonsense!" Minerva protested, "You-Know-Who is now in charge! We need you now more than ever!"

"Mr. Potter took charge in the way that only he could," Dumbledore said, "He is ready."

Harry walked fast through the Great Hall, only to encounter a finger stabbing his chest halfway along the tables. Seamus Finnigan was glaring at Harry.

"Stirring up trouble Potter?"

Green eyes locked onto the blue eyes.

"What the-?" Harry demanded.

"They'll have your traitorous head for your bout of treason-" Finnigan replied.

"Treason to flout the Dark Lord?" Harry said, "Your precious Minister knew, he always knew, that I was innocent as he pushed the Potter Pacts, he knew who was really murdering our classmates while he fabricated the charges against me. You helped, your actions enabled Voldemort to become your lord and master. You might enjoy what you've sown, but do not come crawling to me when you reach the wrong end of his wand."

Pop!

Harry vanished.

Tonks, still standing at the back of the Great Hall, blinked. She started to turn, but halted.

"Bastard!" Finnigan snapped.

"You never gave him a chance," Neville said, "Quick to condemn, but refuse any evidence to the contrary. You've got nobody to blame but yourself, you...you Slytherin."

Neville rammed his right shoulder against Finnigan as he made his way out of the Great Hall.

Dumbledore watched as McGonagall poured tea into a cup in front of him. Tonks came into the Headmaster office.

"Already done Miss. Tonks?" Dumbledore asked.

"Another antidote?" Tonks asked of McGonagall, "You know what Madam Pomfrey-"

"Excuse my optimism," McGonagall said, "Healers are not always correct-"

"I have already accepted the inevitable, however, I do appreciate the tea." Dumbledore gave a slight grin. "Tea is not the matter on your mind."

"I thought I had imagined it the first time," Tonks said, "However, Mr. Potter did it again, he-"

"Apparated?" Dumbledore asked.

Shatter!

McGonagall had dropped the tea kettle, leaving a tea soaked carpet beneath the shards of pottery.

"That is simply not possible, Albus," McGonagall said, "You know Hogwarts-"

"You know what everyone is supposed to believe," Dumbledore said, "And that is true for every witch and wizard I know, except, for some reason, Mr. Potter. Due to his conflict with Riddle, Harry's abilities transcend the bounds of ordinary magic and flirts the bounds of extraordinary abilities. With his abilities and vigor of youth, Harry is our only hope, for no other wizard could have countered the influence of Merlin's Staff."

"What if he fails?" Tonks asked.

"Minerva, please inventory the stores and stock where necessary," Dumbledore said, "Nymphadora, Mr. Potter did ask a favor of you."

"Yes." Tonks blushed and then left.

"I too worry about Mr. Potter." McGonagall paused at the doors. "I will check in on you in two hours."

"I'm sure you will." Dumbledore watched McGonagall depart.

Fawkes soared downward and perched on the adjacent easy chair. Dumbledore lightly stroked the bird.

"There is another way," Dumbledore said to the phoenix.

Neville entered the Hospital Wing and glanced through the first privacy curtain. Harry was sitting there, dragon hide in a heap on the floor, and a loose white sheet about the lap preserved his modesty. Notley was tending to a gash on Harry's right arm, one of many.

"Open revolt isn't life endearing," Neville said as intruded.

"With my death scheduled for eight-o-clock tomorrow?" Harry replied, "Nine-if Voldemort overslept? Now-ow!"

Notley took a second look at the gash and then sprinkled some powdered unicorn horn onto it. Snuffles, laying on the floor, glanced about.

"It was scripted from the start," Harry said, "Malfoy tarnished my name, Flint drummed up the Potter Eaters, the Minister enforced the notion of me being a wannabe Dark Lord. They inflamed Finnigan's hatred and helped the EM become a formidable ally. EM's intimidation and persecution made the plan even stronger; I had to hide, doubters of my guilt were purged, and their campaign helped to persuade many nations to pass the Potter Pacts, whose provision were kept secret. The Minister, who was summarily convicting me while in full knowledge of Malfoy's role, thought he was being clever and had Voldemort listed as his deputy-that fool believed he'd actually survive the ploy. The Potter Pacts bestowed the Merlin's Staff to the British Minister for Magic, by title, which is Voldemort."

"The Minister doesn't have to be murdered then?" Ernie Macmillan broke into the privacy curtain.

"Voldemort never shares power." Harry glanced at the ruffling curtains. "Who else?"

Neville pulled the curtain open, a crowd had formed, some were sitting on the floor, others were sitting on the adjacent bed, and even more were standing behind.

Harry glanced at Neville. "Great idea-I'm one sheet away-"

"From a state that is harder to deceive than under truth serum." Luna was looking at the bunched sheet. "As my mother used to say."

"Serious accusations require serious proof," Hopkins said.

"In a criminal case, where one has the luxury of time, I would agree, Mr. Hopkins." McGonagall set a vial down in a cabinet, and then came over to them. "You need to ask yourself who you believe in, and as for proof, you need to discover that on your own."

Snuffles preceded Harry and Gia up the ladder into their apartment. Harry secured the door then turned to see Sirius looking back at them; Neville and Luna were on one sofa.

"I am curious to the details," Sirius said.

Harry paced the living room as he explained; the color drained from Sirius' face. Ron, Gia, and Hermione filled in some of the details.

"So Narcissa is dead?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded, a tear flowed down Sirius' face. Harry arched his left eyebrow.

"Regardless of what you thought of her son," Sirius said, "Narcissa was my cousin."

"So You-Know-Who—?" Luna asked.

"Yes," Harry said, "Voldemort has the Merlin's Staff—he is now dictator of the entire wizarding world. That is why I issued my statement."

"I have no doubts that Dumbledore agrees with you," Sirius said.

Neville left the tower, Luna followed. Harry looked around the room, seeing the other three occupants, Ron, Hermione, and Gia. Harry strolled to the window, the one overlooking the roof over their bedrooms and out toward the grounds illuminated by the quarter moon above. Gia and Hermione went down into one of the bedrooms. Ron stood behind Harry.

"Anything interesting?" Ron asked.

"Thought I saw some shadows move around the Forbidden Forest," Harry said, "Moody managed to chase something off at the gates. We have to be vigilant now, for Voldemort isn't going to tolerate Hogwarts revolting against him. Hogwarts may no longer be a safe harbor, so we need a plan to evacuate and rendezvous points outside of Hogwarts where we can regroup."

"Abandoning Hogwarts—?" Ron muttered.

"It may come to that," Harry said, "Best to be prepared."

"And the other things you mentioned tonight," Ron asked, "Were you serious?"

"Never more so," Harry said, "The Ministry is the enemy. Sure hope Hermione can find some way to neutralize that tattoo, otherwise, Neville's outreach will have been in vain."

Neville knocked on the grand oak door on the ground level. Luna stood behind him, hands were in her pockets.

"You are not a Hufflepuff," the gentlemen in the painting said.

"I'm a Gryffindor," Neville said, "I wish to speak with the Hufflepuff, Macmillan."

Neville knocked again. Wayne Hopkins opened the door.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Ron woke his eyes to the sunshine pouring into his bedroom, on that Monday morning.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Ron ran his hands under the covers, across the soft skin of Hermione.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Ron got out of bed, put on his bathrobe, then walked over to his bedroom door.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Ron looked up into the common room, but saw nobody up there.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Ron walked over, peeked through the peep hole in the trapdoor, recognizing the red hair people below.

"Bill! Charlie!" Ron exclaimed.

"How many knocks will it take for the Head Boy to open his door?" Charlie asked.

Ron opened the trapdoor and lowered the ladder. Bill and Charlie climbed up, then Ron lifted up the trapdoor.

"Cautious for Hogwarts—" Bill said.

"One mistake and I bite it," Ron said, "If you'll excuse me, I need to get dressed."

"It's already nine in the morning—" Charlie protested.

"Is it?" Ron said, "Funny I didn't seem to notice."

Ron excused himself to the bedroom. Charlie looked about the room.

"Quite spartan," Charlie said, "They need some decor."

"Head Boy—if only Mum and Dad knew—" Bill said.

"We'll need to rectify that mistake..." Charlie said.

Harry came into the common room, then looked up at Bill and Charlie.

"Huh?" Harry muttered, his green eyes fixated onto Charlie.

"We'll wait to explain until your twin comes back out," Charlie said.

"I don't have a—" Harry protested.

"Not biologically, true," Bill said, "It's just rare that we'll find one of you about without the other—you act like twins."

Harry rolled his eyes. Ron returned to the common room, Hermione in tow.

"It's the Head Boy and Girl!" Bill said.

"Yeah, thanks," Ron said, "You're supposed to be elsewhere."

"We're exactly where we're supposed to be," Charlie said.

"The dragons—?" Harry asked.

"We came as quickly as we could after Professor Dumbledore summoned us," Bill said, "Professor McGonagall filled us in on the details—didn't happen quite as either you or the ex-Minister figured it would."

Charlie handed over a pair of papers. Harry opened the Daily Prophet first and read it aloud.

THE DAILY PROPHET, SPECIAL EDITION

Monday, November 10, 1997

Potter Murders Minister for Magic

Minister for Magic, Victor Fallerschain, was found murdered in his Warminster home early this morning. Ministry Auror Beorn Capel described the brutal and bloody scene where "it appears that his internal organs were summoned out of him prior to death." All current evidence points to Dark Lord Harry Potter as the primary suspect.

New Minister for Magic

Tragic demise of Victor Fallerschain late last night has led to the installation of a new Minister for Magic, who is to be referred to as "Lord" or "Lord Minister", but not by name. The Lord Minister moved to fulfill the gap at the top of the British Wizarding Authority under the authority of the just-passed Potter Pacts.

Muggle Status

Lord Minister immediately nominated a panel of five competent wizards to assess the status of muggles within the context of the wizarding community and the respective assimilation of muggleborn wizards and witches.

Death Warrants Issued

Newly installed Lord Minister has issued Death Warrants for Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Gia Prescott, and Albus Dumbledore. Any witch or wizard happening across these individuals are to kill them immediately. If unable to kill, they are to restrain and call for Ministry assistance. The fore mentioned individuals are deemed menaces to society, they pose a severe threat to the proper order of things.

Treasonous Hogwarts Inciting Sedition

Lord Minister has called upon people to help quell the latest treasonous behavior of Harry Potter, who declared Hogwarts to be the focal point of his insurgency as he attempts to seize control of the entire Wizarding World.

"Lord Minister?" Harry spat.

"Those Death Warrants are serious Harry," Hermione said, "They change the dynamics—it becomes a crime for people not to kill us."

"Which makes us felons," Bill said, "Well, we would be were it not for your actions last night. There's a meeting at noon about this."

Ron read over the Daily Prophet, he then moved to the next paper.

THE SPARKY SENTINEL

Monday, November 10, 1997

Voldemort is New Minister for Magic

by Harry Potter

Congratulations to the Wizarding World, you have managed to install Voldemort (commonly referred to as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) into the positions of power that he has sought for decades, for doing the very thing that, two decades ago, would have been unimaginable. Buried in the Potter Pacts was a clause giving the Merlin's Staff to Voldemort, a piece of legislation that should never have come to pass. The Merlin's Staff promotes Voldemort to his long sought position of dictator of the world for life, a position of utmost power that has been legally conferred upon him by the wizarding world — Lord Voldemort is now the supreme authority in all of the wizarding world. Voldemort has already exercised its power to install himself as the Minister for Magic in the British Ministry for Magic.

To those who have helped in supporting the former Minister Fallerschain against Harry Potter, congratulations, I hope you enjoy your new regime, for you've paid for it in blood. To those who have supported me over the past year, thank you for that support, hopefully we will be able to resolve this situation.

"Coy," Ron said, "You got yourself published."

"Hope it doesn't doom them," Harry said, "Anyways, your two brothers—"

"Are here to escort you to lunch," Bill said, "Dumbledore has recalled everybody he can to Hogwarts."

"If it's lunch already," Harry said, "We'll be along in a few moments."

Ron followed Bill into a classroom on the fourth floor, inside was a big round oval table that was empty in the middle save the three foot wide strip along the outer edge. Around the table were many, many plates. Some of the spots were already occupied, most notably by Dumbledore adjacent to a small podium and McGonagall sitting to the other side of it. Ron sat down toward the other end, Harry on his right, Hermione on his left. His eyes glanced around at the big group assembled including Snape, Sirius, Fudge, Amelia Bones, and many others. With a slam, the classroom doors closed, Moody went over them with his wand before sitting down. McGonagall chimed her spoon against her water goblet, everybody turned their heads toward her.

"Welcome, though I wish it were under better circumstances," McGonagall said, "What is discussed here, today, remains here, between us. Upon receiving disturbing news yesterday, certain actions have been taken and notification is due to all. Other matters will also be discussed. Albus."

"This is the first war meeting of the Talon," Dumbledore said.

Everybody perked up.

"War?" Fudge asked, "Isn't that a bit premature?"

"And this Talon you speak of?" Bones asked.

"A certain troublemaker got the Order ruled illegal," Snape sneered, "I presume this Talon is to replace—?"

"Perceptive Severus," Dumbledore said, "Talon is in reference to the claws of Fawkes, may we shred Voldemort's plans."

"A state of war now exists between this Talon and You-Know-Who," McGonagall said, "Mr. Potter will fill you in on his encounter over the weekend in a couple of moments. First, you are all here because Albus and I trust your motives even if you were lead astray for a short while. Second, Albus Dumbledore will retain formal leadership, but due to his ailing health, route all correspondence through me."

"Ailing health?" Tonks asked, "How serious is it? Who will succeed?"

Dumbledore tapped his cane, everybody looked.

"My condition is terminal." Dumbledore waited for the gasps to subside. "Unlike our adversary, I do not fear death. I have been making plans for when my time is due—Minerva will execute the details."

McGonagall snorted.

"I trust that the Deputy Headmistress will continue in your place," Snape said.

"Negative," Dumbledore said, "Mr. Potter will succeed myself—"

"Pardon?" Snape asked.

Harry's mouth was open.

"If Mr. Potter thinks about it for a few moments, he will concur," Dumbledore said, "Our best chance lays in supporting him—that includes you Severus."

Sirius glanced at Snape's opening mouth.

"You said war," Sirius said, "Some here will want an explanation."

"We found out the rest of Voldemort's plans and were able to inform Professor Dumbledore last night," Harry said, "We had discovered that ex-Minister Fallerschain was in on the act, that through him, Voldemort has had control of the Ministry for more than a year—which explains why we could never clear our names, for the Minister didn't care that we were innocent. We learned that they had managed to secure Merlin's Staff for Voldemort—your new Minister."

"The Board of Governors met late last night," Dumbledore said, "They have upheld our severance from the Ministry."

"We have already received a response from the Queen," McGonagall said, "It was important to establish the fact that we are not against the notion of being governed, rather, we are against the current regime within the Ministry and that we still support the royal family. This is only the second time in the History of Hogwarts that we have had such a schism with the governing of the wizarding world."

"Second?" Ashlie Crockford asked.

"When Scotland and England unified in the early eighteenth century," Hermione said, "There were issues."

"Which were nothing compared to today's issues," Dumbledore said, "The House Elfs should be delivering lunch shortly, during which, we will formulate a strategy."

Ron and Harry left the luncheon; Gia and Hermione went for the North Tower. Neville trailed thirty seconds behind.

"We fell for that," Ron said, "Hook, line, and sinker."

"We sure did," Harry said, "Guess it is important though—wish they'd—"

"We need to learn to face them though," Ron said, "Neville is right, we—"

"After what they've done—?" Harry demanded.

"Especially after what they've done," Ron said, "They don't deserve forgiveness, they never will, but we need to, eventually, unless you want to take on Snape's aura."

Harry snorted.

"He does carry grudges—" Harry said.

"So will we if we aren't careful," Ron said.

"It'll never be the same as before," Harry said.

"True," Ron said, "Well, here we are, the first test."

They went through the doors into the Great Hall, students at the tables stopped and looked at them. Finnigan stood up.

"Mur—" Finnigan shouted.

Harry's wand was out, aimed at Finnigan.

"Anybody who does not wish to remain—be careful not to let the doors hit you in the rear as you leave," Harry said, "Everybody else—pay attention."

Harry made for the front; Finnigan and several others darted out of the Great Hall.

"This is our study hall," Macmillan said.

"I am perfectly aware what time it is," Harry said, "However, the study hall has been canceled for an essential lesson. Professor Dumbledore wishes for every student to be practiced in Apparation."

"If only he didn't volunteer us," Ron whispered to Harry.

All eyes trained themselves onto Harry.

"We need licenses," Justin Prewett said.

"Not to mention that Apparation cannot occur in Hogwarts," Paul Prewett said.

Harry held his hand up, silencing even more questions. Neville swept through the hall, coming up to the front.

"Normally, those are both correct," Neville said, "Professor Dumbledore has altered the wards to permit Apparation within the Great Hall, for he, like us, believe that it is essential for us to become familiar with that skill. This skill, like any other, could make the difference between life or death in the days to come."

"You three aren't licensed," Macmillan said.

"Legally," Harry said, "I shouldn't be permitted to live."

"For the rest of this afternoon," Ron said, "You'll learn to apparate—" He apparated to the other end of the room "—the length of this hall."

Harry apparated on top of the Hufflepuff table, bent down, touched Macmillan's shoulder, then apparated them both to on top of the staff table.

"Cool!" Justin Prewett exclaimed.

"That wasn't apparation," Hannah Abbott said.

"Related," Ron said, "Related and useful—though there's some catches we'll teach later."

"I've never seen that before," Tonks said, coming into the hall, "Save with you Harry."

"You've been watching?" Harry asked.

"I'm here to assist." Tonks turned to the students. "That trick alone will make your time worthwhile—"

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Lets just say it isn't well known," Tonks said, spying Harry's look.

Harry, Ron, Neville, and Tonks spent the afternoon in the Great Hall.

Tuesday morning, as they were walking toward the Great Hall, Hermione shoved the papers at Harry and Ron.

"Have you read this?" Hermione said, "It's insulting to say the least!"

Harry took the paper, Ron read,

THE DAILY PROPHET

Tuesday, November 11, 1997

Malfoy Awarded Honorary NEWTs

Draco Malfoy, the brilliant and gifted student who was wrongfully dismissed from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, has been awarded full Honorary NEWTs by Lord Minister.

After accepting admission in 1991, Draco Lucius Malfoy entered into Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he was promptly sorted into the prestigious house of Slytherin. Over the following six and a half years, Malfoy held to a rigorous academic curriculum spending much of his time either studying or participating on his house Quidditch team as the best Seeker Hogwarts had ever seen. On hindsight, Malfoy would have appreciated being given more time to Harry Potter, for he might have persuaded Potter to steer straight in the Wizarding community; instead, Malfoy found Potter was typically gated off from general access by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Malfoy was illegally and wrongly expelled two weeks ago as a scapegoat for the crimes of Harry Potter.

Hogwarts Accreditation Revoked

The International Wizarding Examination Authority has revoked its accreditation of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, stating that it has become very apparent that the values and teachings of the once-respectable institution are no longer in line with the better interests of either its students or the wizarding world. Lead by Dumbledore and Potter, plans of sedition bore fruit as they instigated an insurgency uprising to undermine and attempt a coup on the Ministry for Magic; the Lord Minister has vowed that the subversion and mutiny will be crushed, so that the proper order will be restored.

Malfoy Appointed to Ministry Spokesperson

Draco Malfoy, fresh from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry with full NEWTs, has been appointed by Lord Minister to the position of Ministry Spokesperson.

"Malfoy's definitely kissing where the sun doesn't shine," Ron said, "Bloody hell—proof on who's in charge."

"Are you at all concerned about accreditation?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged.

"Figures!" Hermione said, "Accreditation makes our Hogwarts education usable, without it, you may as well have played Quidditch for all seven years as far as employers are concerned!"

"Quidditch for—" Ron stroked his chin.

"We'll get it fixed," Harry said, "Likely not today, but we will."

"Thanks," Hermione said.

Harry and Ron saddled into the Great Hall, last of the students. Tonks, standing next to the door, gave Harry a green arm band, Ron a red band.

"Erm..." Harry said.

"On your right arm," Tonks said, "Beware it doesn't turn black."

Harry raised his eyebrows, then turned his attention to the front. McGonagall was standing in the front.

"In lieu of classes," McGonagall said, "The Headmaster has elected to host a little game among the students. Dormitories, the staff offices, and the Hospital Wing are out of bounds, otherwise, you have free reign to move in a game. Six teams and the last standing wins—a stunning curse will be considered death for our purposes. Your armband, upon being stunned, will turn black to signify that you're out. Look around for a professor with the same color of armband, follow them outside, then wait for us to signal the start."

"We're on different teams!" Ron exclaimed to Harry.

Tonks grabbed both Ron and Harry by the shoulders.

"That is exactly the point," Tonks said, "You don't always get to choose your team mates."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Ron said.

"Follow Mr. Weasley," Tonks said, "Mr. Potter, it looks like you get the pleasure of following Snape."

"Cheers," Ron said.

"Lovely," Harry said.

Tonks lead the way, Ron and dozens of students followed, all wearing red arm bands.

"Way people are acting," Justin Prewett said, "It's like they're expecting something."

"Given who the current Minister is," Ron said, "It's almost certain."

By early evening, only a handful of students remained, one team had been eliminated; which left Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna as the main combatants, each on a different team. Macmillan crouched below Neville as they hid behind Hagrid's Hut.

"Blimey!" Macmillan said, "All that's really left are them—how? Su—"

"They've been having to survive for a year," Neville said, "With people trying to kill them—they learn pretty quick."

"Never realized the extent we've harassed them," Macmillan said.

"Understand why they can't easily forgive?" Neville said, "Remember, as they've been hounded, the hunters didn't care about innocents—many people died as a result. Let's keep an eye out—"

Both Neville and Macmillan collapsed, Ron stood behind them smiling with his wand drawn; he watched Neville's and Macmillan's yellow arm bands turn black. Ron then revived Neville.

"Damn Ernie," Neville said, rubbing his head, "Kept talking and talking—"

"Shh!" Ron said, finger to his lips.

Ron dropped, the back door to the hut shattered from a green curse emanating from the Forbidden Forest. Neville turned, saw a black hooded figure about ten feet into the forest staring back. Neville leveled his wand, the intruder's wand flew toward him; a red curse from Ron struck the intruder.

"Wake Ernie," Ron said.

"Shouldn't we—" Neville protested.

"Wake him, now," Ron said, "This game is over."

Neville leaned over Macmillan who woke up.

"I didn't see it—Weasley!" Macmillan said.

"We'll cover," Ron said, "Get that body Ernie."

Macmillan looked. "I didn't see—"

"Get it," Neville said, looking and aiming his wand toward the forest.

"Got—" Harry appeared, then relaxed his wand. "What—?"

"Intruder," Ron said, "Check our backside—the game is over."

Macmillan walked, crossing ten feet into the forest. Harry looked around.

"Your plan?" Harry asked as he scanned around the area.

"There could easily be more around," Ron said, "Which is why both Neville and I are watching Ernie. Your eyes—"

"Got it," Harry said, "Could the body—?"

"Hope not," Ron said.

Harry got out a small blue spider shaped object, then banished it onto Ernie's back, just before Macmillan grabbed the feet. The blue spider turned black, blending in with Macmillan's robes.

"Just in case," Harry said.

Macmillan dragged the body back. Ron fired a red curse past Ernie into the forest.

"Thought I might've seen something," Ron said, "Hurry Ernie."

"He's fat," Macmillan protested.

"As fast as you can manage," Harry said.

Macmillan huffed as he brought the body to them.

"Suggest you levitate as you bring him—" Harry said.

"Levitate and move?" Macmillan protested.

"Neville?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Neville said.

Neville aimed his wand, levitated the body of the black robed figure.

"Back to the castle," Harry said, "Ron, take fore, I'll be aft."

Ron lead, followed by Neville with the body, Macmillan, then Harry.

Dumbledore entered last into the secluded room in the Hospital Wing, the intruder laid motionless on a bed. Harry and Ron stood, helping to guard the intruder; Neville, Macmillan, Tonks, Hermione, Luna, McGonagall, Moody, Pomfrey, and Snape were nearby.

"Explanations?" Dumbledore asked.

Neville explained.

"Effective immediately, all outdoor activities are canceled—recall all indoors," Dumbledore said, "Minerva, ensure that a head count is performed immediately. Severus—"

"I have it already Headmaster," Snape said, removing a vial of clear potion from his robes.

McGonagall left the room. Pomfrey took the vial, administered it to the intruder. The intruder convulsed, Pomfrey scanned with her wand.

"A new variant on the old poison," Pomfrey said, "He's dead."

"No student is to leave the castle without an escort of at least two staff members," Dumbledore said, "No staff member is to be outside of the castle by themselves either. This applies to everybody including those in this room."

Dumbledore's eyes fell upon Harry, then Ron, then Hermione, then Neville, and then Luna.

"But—" Harry stammered.

"This is for the safety of all of us, Harry," Dumbledore said, "While I'm certain that most of us could manage—it'd be preferable for nobody to be in that position, for sometimes you win and sometimes you lose."

Pomfrey laid a white sheet over the intruder. Harry lead the way out of the bedroom.

Neville knocked on the Hufflepuff door, Macmillan came out.

"Neville," Macmillan said, "Come in."

Neville entered the Hufflepuff common room with its view of the greenhouses. Macmillan sat at a desk in the corner, Neville sat across.

"Can't believe I gave up the Head Boy," Macmillan said, "Seems to have gone to Weasley's head—barking orders like—"

"You didn't seem to understand what Ron did," Neville said, "That person you dragged out tried to kill us. We worried about there being more just out of sight—hence we kept guard while you recovered the body."

Macmillan sipped his tea.

"Weird," Macmillan said, "He tried to kill you? Then, Potter threw something at me and—"

"It was a tracking device," Neville said, "He feared that something might have been amiss, like the body or cloak made into a Portkey or something. You seem to regret that they took charge and assumed authority—Harry was put appointed as a Student Headmaster specifically because he can handle himself and others in a crisis. Ron, well, is the Head Boy and so bears similar responsibilities."

"Can't believe you've got your own apartment though," Macmillan said, "It's made many of us absolutely jealous—"

"But they don't have ransoms hanging over their heads either," Neville said, "We'd be murdered in our sleep if we tried to sleep in our house dormitories."

"Thanks." Macmillan extended his right hand. "Friends?"

Neville shook Macmillan's hand.

Wednesday morning, Harry and Ron left their apartment in the North Tower, stood on the platform below, and glanced at the door leading into the apartment given to Bill and Charlie. Ron went for the door.

"They are family," Ron said.

Ron knocked on the door, it dissolved into a myriad of flying sparkling cartwheels spraying sparks all over. Harry raised his right hand to shield his face.

"Blimey!" Harry exclaimed.

Hands reached out, pulled them both into the room.

"Hey!" Bill exclaimed.

Their red hair rapidly turned gray, the four heads of Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George.

"Fred, George," Ron asked, "Watchya—?"

"Read," Fred said, shoving the Daily Prophet at them.

THE DAILY PROPHET

Wednesday, November 12, 1997

WWW Shut Down for Sedition

Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, commonly referred to as the WWW and located at 93 Diagon Alley, have been formally ordered closed and out of business by the Lord Minister. Evidence brought to light show them to be doing more than selling EM gear and anti-Potter merchandise, in fact, it appears that the proprietors Fred and George Weasley were then diverting funds to aid and albeit Harry Potter's existence—an act that could no longer be tolerated. Fred and George Weasley have been formally listed under the Suspected Dark Wizard Control Act, Death Warrants are currently under consideration.

"Bottom line is we were evicted from Diagon Alley," George said, "We anticipated that might occur—so we were ready and could clear out within a very short time."

"And?" Ron asked.

"Fortunately we heeded the rumors and prepared, just in case," Fred said, "A subsequent mob destroyed our house in London—only the building got destroyed, pretty much everything else was salvaged. Professor Dumbledore agreed to let us move into Hogwarts."

"Damn," Harry said, "Hasn't anybody figured out that Voldemort's in charge?"

Fred shook his head.

"At least not the vocal ones," George said, "It's still hostile against you Harry, nobody's really believed the statements about him being in power."

"Blimey!" Harry leaned against the wall. "What's it going to take? I actually don't give a damn about them anymore—they want Voldemort in power, I'd say fine if I could be left alone in the muggle world."

That evening, Ron and Harry climbed the stairs after their evening Healing course.

"Sure are cramming," Ron said.

"There's a war breaking out," Harry said, "They're covering what everybody should know."

"Sound like Hermione there," Ron said.

Harry lightly punched Ron in the shoulder.

"Get back and she'll be quizzing us left—" Ron said.

"Shh!" Harry pointed out a window. A dark shadow darted into the Forbidden Forest.

"That's so spooky," Ron said.

"One guess about who's orders," Harry said.

"That's not funny," Ron said.

"Not supposed to be," Harry said.

Thursday, Neville read the Daily Prophet before leaving the apartment.

THE DAILY PROPHET

Thursday, November 13, 1997

Floo Network Trunk Lines Operable

The Ministry announced that the trunk lines to the Floo Network, the first step in the reconstruction, are now operable. This means that the Floo Network may be used from and between designated fireplaces in Aberdeen, Belfast, Birmingham, Bradford, Bristol, Cardiff, Coventry, Derby, Dublin, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Kingston Upon Hull, Leicester, Liverpool, Manchester, Newcastle Upon Tyne, Nottingham, Plymouth, Sheffield, Southampton, Stoke-on-Trent, Sunderland, Wolverhampton, Hogsmeade, and London (Diagon Alley and the Ministry). The Ministry Floo Authority hopes to have the remainder of the Floo Network operational by the end of the year, but they emphasis that this task is unprecedented in the history of the Floo Network so delays are inevitable.

The Ministry reminds everybody that the Knight Bus is still available for safe and reliable transportation.

Neville handed the paper to Harry. Harry perused it.

"At least they're fixing it," Harry said, "Unfortunately, it's in the wrong hands."

"Better hurry," Neville said, "They want us to help with the all day defense training."

Harry rolled his eyes, then started down the ladder.

"They tread and tread," Harry said, "Yet they expect me—"

"Unrealistic standards," Neville said.

"You do understand," Harry said.

"Thanks," Neville said.

Thursday evening, Harry climbed the stairs toward the north tower apartment. Neville came down the stairs.

"Aren't you attending the discussion?" Neville asked.

"No," Harry said, "What the—" He pointed out the window.

"Dunno," Neville said, glancing, "Perhaps another—likely."

They watched a dark figure enter the Forbidden Forest, then a second one dashed from the Whomping Willow into the treeline.

"Blimey!" Neville exclaimed.

"That's why Dumbledore doesn't want anybody to venture outside," Harry said, "I doubt they're benevolent."

"Yeah," Neville said, "I'll let you know how this goes."

Neville entered the Great Hall, sat at the back end of a great oval table. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Pomfrey sat on the front end. A hundred fifty other students sat to either side of the table. Many glanced around until the doors to the hall closed. Dumbledore did not rise, but he glanced around the room. McGonagall stood.

"Good evening," McGonagall said, "Rumors, stories, and many other things have been passing between students, faculty, and others; questions have been raised, some answers given, but not always as fulfilling as one wants. The main topic has been concerning recent events. Therefore, we arranged tonight's event to help clarify, for you, the state of current events and affairs. All will speak honestly and openly as best as they can. I will moderate, where necessary."

McGonagall glanced at Dumbledore. His slowly twinkling eyes looked onto Seamus Finnigan.

"How can you let Potter still attend yet expel a number of Slytherins on mere suspicions?" Finnigan demanded.

"Simply put," Dumbledore said, "I firmly believe that Mr. Potter has been innocent of the crimes for which he has been accused, whereas, I firmly believe that the expelled Slytherins were guilty."

"Potter is guilty—!" Finnigan exclaimed, standing.

"You never gave him the chance!" Neville glared as he stood.

"A pro-Potter rally is all this is!" Finnigan stood up and left the Great Hall.

"A shame," Dumbledore said, "I had hoped to instill some of this information into Mr. Finnigan."

"Is You-Know-Who really the Minister?" Hopkins asked.

"Affirmative," McGonagall said, "Upon hearing that, Hogwarts immediately severed ties with the Ministry. The authority we now recognize is that of the royal family currently headed by the Queen. Remember that Hogwarts predates the Ministry—suffice it to say, we invoked a centuries old clause permitting us to severe relations."

Ernie raised his hand, McGonagall pointed her wand.

"All these exercises this week," Ernie said, "While fun, seems rushed."

"A dark war is upon us," Dumbledore said, "We do not have the luxury of time, therefore, we are imparting the knowledge that will hopefully help you survive the difficult times ahead."

"This week, all classes were canceled for these sessions," McGonagall said, "Starting next week, normal classes will resume for Monday through Thursday with the special sessions scheduled for every Friday. Tomorrow, you will be receiving some defensive coaching."

The debate continued.

Friday evening, the shadowy figure was caught, who was established to be on Ministry business just before he died.

Saturday evening, Flame coursed through his blood as Dumbledore attempted to bring the latest brew to his lips. Shaking of his hands caused a droplet to splash. Fire and ice ate into his flesh, consuming sensation and replacing it with livid pain. Dumbledore set the flask to the side and immersed himself into the silver of his pensieve. He finally looked upon Trelawney's final prophecy, a memory gifted to him as her estate. A tear flowed down his face as he knew goodbye was finally in order.

"It's going to be a tough road Harry Potter," Dumbledore said to the echoes of the mind, "Tough for all of you. Good luck to you all, I must journey ahead."

Dumbledore left the pensieve and took out his wand. He opened the compartment in the hilt and withdrew the vial that Severus had prepared. A pop of the cork and a sip of vile but soothing concoction, he exhaled. Gold and red light filled the castle as he levitated up the stairwell to the top of the tower, he came to a rest in a lounger, his face gazing up to the stars above. Fawkes flew and perched on the serrated brickwork.

McGonagall came up the stairs fast, Harry was right behind him.

"Albus!" McGonagall started.

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed.

"We shall meet again," Dumbledore said with his final breath. Ron, Hermione, and Fred came up.

Pomfrey came over and tried to slip a potion into his mouth, but his lips were already cold.

"He shouldn't have-" Pomfrey said, "I thought he was-"

"Never mind." Harry closed the eyelids of the lifeless eyes and then looked at Fawkes.

"Ten thirty seven," McGonagall said as she glanced at the clock tower, "Cause-?"

"Murdered by Voldemort," Harry said.

"That..." Pomfrey ran out of breath as she pulled a white sheet over him.

McGonagall hurried down the stairs—Harry ran behind her.

"People to notify-" McGonagall said as she took out a quill and parchment on the desk of the Headmaster.

"Notify nobody," Harry commanded as he snatched the quill away from her grasp.

"Pardon-?" McGonagall exclaimed, "The Albus Dumbledore—a man of great stature-"

Ron, Hermione, and the others started to trickle in.

"Tomorrow, perhaps," Harry said, "Hogwarts is secure because of Albus Dumbledore—it rested with him. Every day people believe that he is alive and in charge is another day secure. We must fake it until we have a better option."

"This will not hold forever," McGonagall said.

"I know," Harry said, "I know."

Pomfrey started across the office, she was in a hurry.

"Poppy?" McGonagall asked.

Pomfrey held up the empty vial. "I need to talk to Severus-"

"No need-" McGonagall said.

"Excuse me-?" Pomfrey asked.

"You know something-" Harry started.

"That—that was the rest of the poison," McGonagall said, "The only reason we were even able to battle it at all was because he did not consume the entire lot—until now."

"He-" Harry started.

"Albus never did anything without cause," McGonagall said, "Until tomorrow, I suggest sleep Mr. Potter, for the Student Headmaster will have to assume a greater role."

Gia yawned. Harry lead the way out of the Headmasters Office.

Fred tripped over Snuffles as they entered the North Tower apartment.

"Can't believe he's gone," George said, "Figured he'd live forever."

"You-Know-Who in power," Fred said, "With him gone—we're doomed—"

"We're only doomed if you think we're doomed," Harry said, crossing the apartment, "He was did what he did for the past few months for a specific reason—because he knew he was going. It is up to us to carry through."

"Doesn't make this easier," Hermione said.

"Never said it would," Harry said.

Harry watched a shadow enter into the Forbidden Forest.

Harry woke Sunday morning to Neville shaking him.

"Harry, Harry," Neville said, "You're needed."

Harry rubbed his eyes, turned over while keeping the covers over him and Gia.

"What?" Harry said, "It's Sunday morning—a day to sleep in."

"Professor McGonagall needs you," Neville said, "Breakfast over some meeting."

"Tell her I'll be there as soon as possible," Harry said.

"She already left," Neville said, "Hurry."

Neville left the bedroom. Harry kissed Gia, then got up. Harry entered the Headmaster's office with Ron and Hermione following; they sat at a small round table with McGonagall.

"I realize you would rather sleep in on a day like today," McGonagall said, peering over the rim of her spectacles, "However, covering up the Headmaster's death takes much effort—I will be needing your help in running this institution. I am personally assuming the role as Headmistress; Ordinarily, I would appoint a Deputy Headmaster—you see the issue. I have informed the staff that you, Mr. Potter, will be taking on some responsibilities as we sort out your new position."

Harry swallowed.

"Mrs. Weasley," McGonagall said, "I will need you to help with this week's financial report after breakfast. Mr. Potter, I need you to collect all the requisition forms from the teachers and staff, then get them back to me before noon. Mr. Weasley, Madam Pomfrey needs your assistance with her inventory today. This afternoon, Professor Snape will need your assistance with a potion he's brewing."

They quickly ate breakfast. Harry and Ron then left the office. Black robes billowed as Snape approached along the second floor corridor.

"He won't be seeing you this morning," Harry said as Snape passed.

The halting footsteps reverberated, the robes rose as Snape spun around, his dark eyes fixated onto Harry.

"Very arrogant Potter," Snape said, "Especially considering where—"

"We were just turned away too," Harry said, "Thought I'd save you—"

"Doubtful," Snape said, "The Headmaster will see me—this is too important—"

"He will not be seeing you," Harry said, "Professor McGonagall will—"

"She plays gatekeeper while the Headmaster is perfectly capable—" Snape said.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Harry said.

Harry spun around.

"Potter," Snape demanded, "Do not turn your back—"

"Like you've ever respected me," Harry said, flipping Snape off.

"Arrogance always seems to come to Student Headmasters," Snape sneered.

"Bug off!" Harry said, "Besides, you said your errand was important."

Harry and Ron moved off quickly.

"You have not heard the last of this Potter!" Snape bellowed.

Harry and Ron turned at several corners before they slowed down.

"Glad that's over," Harry said, "Just wait—dunno why he needs me, many in this castle are better at potions including him."

Harry entered the Headmaster's office just after noon. McGonagall and Hermione were still at the table.

"Professor Snape was furious about us blocking," Hermione said.

"Never figured he'd be thrilled," Harry said, putting down a stack of forms.

McGonagall looked up, she rested her quill on a stack of parchment.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "Lunch is about to be served, after which, you will need to report to Professor Snape in his office."

Harry groaned.

"I realize the amount of animosity that Severus has managed to stir up within you Potter," McGonagall said, "However, on this, Albus was planning to ask your permission for—the potion that is being brewed needs you to voluntarily give several drops of blood, it is a potion that will facilitate an escape plan for the students of Hogwarts."

Hermione's eyes focused upon McGonagall, the grip on her quill loosened.

"How so Professor?" Hermione asked.

"In theory," McGonagall said, "It should allow the consumer the ability to apparate out of Hogwarts for a short duration. To date, Mr. Potter is the only known wizard capable of circumventing the apparation wards of Hogwarts—a remarkable feat given the many who have died trying."

"I don't understand how—" Harry said.

"That is the nature of magic," McGonagall said, "Suffice it to say, Albus devised a potion to exploit his ability—it'd be faster to distribute than attempting to tear down the centuries of effort used to construct the wards."

"Alright," Harry said.

"I shall accompany you," McGonagall said, "After a spot of lunch."

Harry followed Neville up to the seventh floor that afternoon.

"I have never seen Professor Snape so steamed before," Neville said, "Thanks for coming."

Neville stopped at the tapestry of Barnabas the Balmy, turned away and faced a door. Neville turned the knob, opened the door, and went in; Harry followed. Harry looked at three easy chairs around a coffee table and Ernie Macmillan sitting in one of them.

"Neville—" Harry protested.

"Trust me," Neville said, "Besides, I've got his wand. Give me ten more minutes Harry—please?"

Harry came in, stood behind the easy chair. Neville closed the door, then sat between Ernie and Harry.

"Ernie," Neville prompted.

Ernie looked up at Harry.

"Harry—I was a total idiot and I'm sorry for what I did to you," Ernie said, "Like the lemmings I had followed, I had rushed to judgment, acted without thinking, injuring you and others, and...um...I apologize. I acted rashly without thinking—I wanted you to know—"

"Don't you think—" Harry snapped.

"Hold off Harry!" Neville demanded.

Harry glared at Neville, then focused back on Ernie.

"Nothing I can say or do can take back the things I did, things I truly regret," Ernie said, "I am not asking for forgiveness or rebuild a friendship that I had treasured yet threw away—rather enough of an understanding, a mutual cease fire, enough so that I can fight with you, helping to fight against You-Know-Who without you worrying about my motives—"

"All I hear is talk—" Harry sneered.

"Don't you get what's happening Harry?" Neville said, "People are apologizing—don't refuse them that! The fucking truth is we desperately need allies—Ernie here has learned from his mistakes and will, without expecting anything in return, dedicate his talents to helping where we need the help. I'm not saying you need to forgive or anything, but the hostility needs to end now so we can all work to defeat You-Know-Who! Do you consider what Ernie said an apology Harry?"

Harry bit his lip, his eyes darted between the two.

"It was," Harry said.

"Good! Whether it's sufficient to forgive—that's your business," Neville said, "Can we drop the hostilities and at least be civil enough between you two to get things done? Don't throw the help away Harry—shake hands."

Harry glared at Neville for a moment.

"Please?" Neville pleaded.

"Alright." Harry went for the door.

Neville caught up with Harry on the sixth floor.

"Harry!" Neville shouted.

"What?" Harry spun around, glaring. "Going to force—"

"Thought I was doing you a favor!" Neville shouted.

"How—?" Harry demanded.

"Hatred—it's brewing in you because of what they all did," Neville said, "You're going to be worse than Snape if you don't watch it—that'd be a real shame if that occurred! You need to let that hate go—you're capable of it and that's what made you Harry Potter! You needed to hear that some are turning leaves, regretting their actions—"

"You don't force—" Harry protested.

"It had to get started," Neville said, "Ernie—he's sincere in his remorse and he's been doing much to try to redeem himself in your eyes. I don't care if you ever forgive Ernie—but don't turn the help away."

Ernie came along, toward Neville.

"Neville," Ernie said, "Can I—Blimey!"

Ernie stared down the corridor, at the end was standing a dark robed figure with only a white skull showing out the front of the hood. Harry shoved Neville away with his left hand, his right hand came out with wand drawn, ropes flew down the corridor wrapping themselves tightly about the figure. A curse, a green ball of light, emanated at the bottom of the robes, ricocheted off the floor, and zoomed down the corridor, growing in size as it moved. Harry grabbed Ernie, shifted weight, and fell the both of them onto the floor, rolling behind a small statue. Neville crouched into the corner.

"Damn!" Neville said.

Laughter came from the figure as the ropes broke. A pair of wands flew from the figure toward them, coming to a halt halfway. One transfigured itself into a knife and sped forward, while the other wand returned to the figure. A jet of orange from Harry's wand intercepted and smashed the knife into nothingness.

"Elementary!" the figure shouted.

"Lay fire," Harry whispered to Neville.

Neville's wand was out, red curses emanating toward the figure. Harry darted across the corridor; a red and a blue curse streamed down the corridor, singed his dragon hide. Harry ducked into the other nook, a red curse flew down the corridor. The figure laughed as he shook it off. Ernie grabbed his wand from Neville.

"Kill him, dammit!" Ernie muttered.

"Learn from your mistakes!" Neville said, "Gotta give 'em a chance."

"Fun ends now!" the figure announced, "Avada—"

Six isolated bricks in the floor, at six directions away from the figure, glowed green; beads of light shot forth, hitting the figure. The figure screamed as he dissolved into nothingness. The clunking of metal on stone could be heard as a single small object flew forth coming to a rest near Neville.

"A Ministry badge!" Neville exclaimed.

Harry walked over, picked up the badge.

"We're escorting you back to your dormitory Ernie," Harry said, "After which, no student will be permitted outside their dormitories alone."

"I'll be in the Hufflepuff dormitory for a bit," Neville said.

"Alright," Harry said, "I'm heading to the Headmaster's office—accompany me to there."

Harry entered the Headmaster's office. McGonagall peered up from her work at the desk.

"Yes Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"Another intruder." Harry placed the Ministry badge on the desk, then explained.

"Albus did remark it a bit humorous last spring during his exercise that he sent you and your friends out on a task, only to have the three of you coming back with tales of abusive Aurors with said Aurors not surviving the encounter," McGonagall said, "It means that you're perfectly capable of handling dangerous situations—a compliment. Now, I agree with your assessment—I will make the announcement in the morning to the change in rules.

"As to the intruder himself—I find it disturbing that he managed to penetrate into the castle. An emergency staff meeting is scheduled in an hour—make the announcements."

Neville and Ernie settled into the corner of the Hufflepuff common room.

"Blimey!" Ernie said, "What a confrontation!"

"It was nothing by Harry's standards," Neville said, "Remember, he's got mobs still after him—that's spelled confrontations per week for some time."

"Many wicked curses," Ernie said, "But I never could catch their incantations—"

"Not with Harry," Neville said, "He learned long ago to do it without incantations—powerful stuff."

"Yet he's reluctant to take my apology," Ernie said.

"Get over it!" Neville said, "Remember what one of your acts was? Brutally raping his best friend in front of all of Hogwarts—and you're wondering why he's having a hard time forgiving?"

Tonks crowded into the Headmaster's office right after Snape entered.

"Where is the Headmaster?" Snape asked.

McGonagall turned to the rest of the staff.

"Tonight," McGonagall said, "We had an intruder penetrate into the castle..."

A number of teachers gasped.

"Fortunately, the first known people he came across within the castle were able to cope," McGonagall said, "The intruder did not survive the confrontation—"

"NEWTs to whoever!" Flitwick shouted.

"The mere fact the intruder was able to get into the castle should be disturbing to all," McGonagall said, "This intruder was carrying the badge of the Ministry—"

"A spy?" Tonks asked.

"That certainly is our hypothesis," McGonagall said, "Certainly, the Ministry has not been too pleased with our political stance—"

"I fail to see the Headmaster," Snape said, "Certainly, this would be a matter of concern to him."

"To her," McGonagall corrected.

Flitwick shuddered. Sprout gasped.

"You don't mean—?" Pince asked.

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed.

"Mr. Potter—Severus' perception is proof enough that we cannot keep it away from the staff," McGonagall said, "In fact, I am confident that each and every one of us will do our part to assist."

Tonks looked back and forth between Harry and McGonagall.

"Assist?" Shacklebolt asked.

McGonagall looked to the floor. "Late last night, Albus passed away."

Shacklebolt caught Sprout as she started to collapse.

"It went peacefully, for that, we can be grateful," McGonagall said, "I had intended to announce it—however, Mr. Potter made a very valid point for keeping it concealed as long as we can."

"A conspiracy?" Tonks asked.

"Yes Nymphadora," McGonagall said, "Mr. Potter correctly pointed out that the current safety of Hogwarts rests in the knowledge that Albus Dumbledore is in charge and control. That perception will not change, for as long as we can maintain it, for the safety of Hogwarts and its inhabitants is our chief priority. As the Deputy Headmistress, I assume the charges I accepted with the position. Given the circumstances—a formal change cannot occur and that requires all of us to remain in our current positions. Therefore, Mr. Potter, as Student Headmaster, in conjunction with the Head Boy and Girl, will assume the responsibilities of the Deputy Headmaster position for the time being."

Monday evening, Harry and Ron were finishing their dinner in the presence of McGonagall in the Headmaster's office. Snape came into the office, looked at McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter—" McGonagall said.

"I have been summoned," Snape said, "I will not know the reason or the duration until I arrive."

"Accommodations will be made," McGonagall said, "Until your return, Mr. Potter will be teaching potions."

Harry choked for a moment.

"I shall be flunking the students by the end of the week," Snape sneered.

Snape left the Headmaster's office.

"Were you joking about me—?" Harry asked.

"You do possess an OWL in Potions," McGonagall said, "You can successfully manage the lower years—Mrs. Weasley can assist in the upper years."

"Congratulations Harry," Ron said.

"Shut up," Harry snapped.

Meanwhile, Gia and Hermione entered the library, which was empty of students and Madam Pince.

"Spooky," Gia said.

"Not really," Hermione said, "Could be something on the Wizarding Wireless Network and the librarian in the ladies room."

They reached halfway down the library when Hermione stopped

"Out," Hermione said, looking at the carpet.

"Too late."

The carpet changed into a net, encapsulating Gia and Hermione, then dangling them from the ceiling. Finnigan came from out of the shadows.

"Actually," Finnigan said, "The librarian had to go to the Hospital Wing—long enough for me to collect on a pair of rewards. Know there's now a 10 percent bonus for capturing you two alive? So, by delivering you—I'll get 33 million galleons. Nice payment for ridding the world of a pair of nuisances—"

"You're being used—" Hermione said.

"Undoubtedly if there's a bounty involved." Finnigan brought a cloth to Hermione's then Gia's faces—they blacked out.

"My my, useful indeed. Yes, the issue of the reward needs to be resolved."

Hermione woke first, then Gia. The both found themselves in a large, rectangular, but dimly lit room. They were in a stone pit at the center, the pit some twenty feet deep, above, stone benches ran around the room, descending as steep steps. They were tied tightly to pillars adjacent to the sides of a stone archway with a black curtain which flutters as if touched in the still air. In front of them, standing on the same raised stone dais as archway, was the black robes, the white skin, the flat nose with slits, tall but thin, with wide eyes but red eyes.

"Voldemort," Hermione muttered.

"That's Lord Minister to you," Voldemort said, "Welcome to the Department of Mysteries where you get to witness tonight's events prior to your long overdue executions—unless you're anticipating your muggle loving fool Albus Dumbledore..."

Voldemort's eyes drifted past Gia's eyes, then fixated back onto her eyes.

"Wormtail," Voldemort said, "Veritaserum—now!"

The balding short man stumbled as he made his way up the stone steps, through the throngs of Death Eaters, and out the door. Voldemort then pointed to Hermione, then Gia.

"Only a Pureblood would truly appreciate where we are standing," Voldemort said, "Though a muggle could, in theory, comprehend, only a true wizard would appreciate and understand. You are within the Department of Mysteries, the Death Chamber—and that, next to you, is the veil of death."

Gia squirmed, fought her ropes.

"Squirm if you wish—it'll only make your deaths come sooner," Voldemort said, "Those tighten as you panic—you wouldn't want to die before your husbands show, do you?"

Gia calmed down.

"For your husbands, then you, will go through the veil," Voldemort said, "Akin to a forced walking of the plank—it has all been arranged. Poetic that executions of old used to occur here—walk through the veil and you can never return, dead. With that, the end of a nuisance that has been a thorn in my plans for decades—"

"If you had just left us alone—" Gia said.

"I can not trust in that," Voldemort said, "What if you changed your minds? What if that fool Dumbledore or somebody else persuaded you to rejoin the fight? No, this is the end of your lives."

Wormtail came back down the stairs.

"Severus is coming," Wormtail said as he produced the vial of Veritaserum.

"Good," Voldemort said, "I am glad he will be able to attend the festivities."

"Why don't you just kill us now?" Hermione asked.

"Patience mudblood," Voldemort said, "All in good time—I govern and I control everybody's fate."

Snape came in through the door, started down the stairs.

"Severus," Voldemort said, "I have a job for you—administer this to both of them, enough to insure truth. Half the vial to each."

"That would kill instantly, my lord," Snape said.

Snape grabbed the vial of Veritaserum, then bent down and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"Administer!" Voldemort said, "A maximum dose is sufficient—they need only survive a few more hours."

Snape dropped ten drops down the throats of Gia and Hermione.

"That is five times the recommended amounts," Snape said, "Any more would be a waste of Veritaserum."

"Ask them about Dumbledore," Voldemort ordered.

"I could answer any questions—" Snape said.

Voldemort's eyes shone bright red for a moment and flashed. The vial of he remaining Veritaserum flew into Voldemort's hands — Snape froze, halfway between the girls, facing Voldemort, his back to the veil. Voldemort looked to Hermione.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Voldemort demanded.

"Hogwarts."

"Is Dumbledore alive?"

"No."

"Is Dumbledore dead?"

"Yes."

"When did he die?"

"Two nights ago."

"Saturday night?"

"Yes."

"Was Severus Snape made aware of Dumbledore's death prior to now?"

"Yes."

"What was the cause of Dumbledore's death?"

"He died from a Dark Poison that was administered to him."

Voldemort smiled, then looked upon Snape.

"My Lord," Snape said, "I can explain—I was going—"

"Silence!" Voldemort said, "You were quite aware that such news should have reached my ears immediately after it reached yours! Failure to relay such news displeases me greatly—for it proves what I had suspected. I have had enough excuses from you—begone!"

Voldemort leveled his wand and banished Snape backward through the black cloth of the veil.

"And I thought Professor Snape was okay," Malfoy said.

"As a Potions Master, perhaps," Voldemort said, "Now, we wait for thy husbands."

Neville caught up with Harry and Ron on the second floor corridor, Neville was panting heavily; Ernie was coming up fast.

"Neville?" Harry asked.

"Rotten Finnigan—kill him!" Neville said, "He sprung a trap and caught your ladies—he's been well compensated as he sent them off with more robed figures, Ministry officials who were pleased to catch them. Hermione and Gia were taken."

Harry grabbed his Student Headmaster badge, gave it to Neville. "Until I return."

Ron surrendered his Head Boy badge to Ernie. "Ditto."

"Shouldn't go alone—" Neville said.

Harry and Ron started down the corridor. "This is our business!"

Harry pulled out his Whitehorn and mounted, Ron jumped on the back. They ran and jumped out of a window; they missed the ground by a foot and leveled out, rising out of reach of shadowy figures lining the gates of Hogwarts.

"Could be a trap," Ron said.

"Doesn't matter, they've been captured," Harry said, "We'll be careful of course."

Harry shuddered for a moment, Ron maintained their balance.

"Cruciatius is being used against Gia," Harry said, "She's still alive."

"Where to?" Ron asked.

"With Voldemort—try the Ministry first," Harry said, "Azkaban next."

"Apparate will be faster," Ron said.

"Sure," Harry said, "Hold on."

Neville ran into the Headmaster's office, Ernie came next and let the doors slam.

"Mr. Longbottom! Mr. Macmillan!" McGonagall asked, "May I know—?"

"Gia, Hermione, have been kidnapped with the help of Seamus," Neville said, "Ron and Harry have taken off after them."

McGonagall stood up from behind the desk.

"Do you know where any of them went?" McGonagall asked.

"Finnigan handed Gia and Hermione over to Ministry agents," Neville said, "Otherwise, no."

McGonagall paced in front of the desk.

"So they could be anywhere by now," McGonagall said, "Thank you for the information—please depart so I can handle—"

"I'd like to be in on the rescue," Neville said.

"So would I!" Ernie said.

"Stay out of the way," McGonagall said, "I have some summons to do."

Harry apparated, on the broom with Ron on his back, under the Westminster bridge over the Thames in London. They both cast Disillusionment charms, then flew North skimming the water. He flew under the Hungerford railroad bridge and then the Waterloo. Harry then flew up, turned right, and followed Blackfriars from its bridge. Harry lands on a dingy street with a wall of graffiti, a pub, and a number of shabby offices. Harry holds onto the Whitehorn as he and Ron crammed into a red phone box. Harry dialed in 6-2-4-4-2.

"Rescue," Harry said.

Harry and Ron grabbed their name badges that read "Rescue mission", the box shook and dropped into the ground.

"Where do we start looking?" Harry asked.

"Guessing level ten—courtrooms and stuff," Ron said, "Have to get to level nine first."

Harry stashed his Whitehorn back into his pocket, then had his wand drawn.

"That bad?" Ron asked.

"Likely," Harry said.

Ron's wand was drawn as the they arrived in the Atrium. Several curses flew in their direction; Harry and Ron darted, then renewed their Disillusionment charms.

"POTTER IS HERE!" shouted a witch, "POTTER! POTTER!" She fainted, but others had their wands drawn with curses firing.

Harry and Ron navigated between the curses, some hit their dragon hide. Fireplaces showered sparks across the room, witches and wizards fell out of the Floo Network stunned as they fell to the ground. Spontaneous fires on the polished dark would send up billowing black smoke that darkened the peacock blue ceiling above. Steam rose from the fountain of magical brethren, its statues splintered and fell to ground. One of the golden gates were open with a security guard standing in between.

"ALL WANDS ARE TO BE REGISTERED!" the guard ordered.

Stray curses stunned the security guard; Harry and Ron carefully stepped over the guard. They quickly made their way into an empty lift.

McGonagall paced the Headmasters office until the last of the people arrived. Tonks came in.

"Sorry," Tonks said, "had a stack of essays—"

"Those will have to wait," McGonagall said, "Mrs. Gia Potter and Mrs. Hermione Weasley have been captured—their husbands have already left in pursuit. The ladies are in Ministry hands and therefore You-Know-Who's as well—"

"Either Azkaban or the Ministry," Moody said, "Those are the best two places to keep prisoners."

"It is quite plausible that it's a trap for Mr. Potter," McGonagall said.

"The Ministry is more accessible," Shacklebolt said.

"I'd like to help!" Neville said.

"Plan en route," McGonagall said, "My presences is required here—otherwise, I'd go. Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Macmillan, you are to remain here."

Tonks, Moody, and Shacklebolt left the office.

"There are already enough people in danger without risking a pair of students," McGonagall said, "I see that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley nominated replacements until they return—therefore, you have duties to perform."

The lift opened onto level nine, an empty corridor save a door at the end into the Department of Mysteries and a set of stairs right before it.

"Caution," Harry said, "A trap is possible—highly probable."

"Effective if it is," Ron said.

They proceeded forward, taking the left before the door and descending downward to level ten. They turned right, then headed to the end of the corridor where dim light etched the outline of a doorway in the stone.

"It is a trap," Ron muttered.

"While I don't doubt that," Harry said, "Where are the girls? Until we have a better lead—we must investigate."

They approached the end of the stone lined corridor; the stone of the door in front of them dissolved revealing the stone dais upon which stood the stone archway with its black curtain. Gia and Hermione were tied to the sides, both were gagged.

"It's the veil of death," Ron whispered.

"Meaning?" Harry asked.

"Anybody who goes through—dead," Ron said, "Used for executions long ago."

Harry and Ron stopped on the precipice of the doorway, it opened into the center pit of the death chamber. Voldemort stood, back to them, on the stone dais. A shrill filled the room, on top of the stone archway a shaft of flame spouted upward, out of which flew Fawkes. Fawkes circled the room, then landed on top of the stone archway. Harry's left hand reached into his wand holster.

"Dumbledore's chicken!" Voldemort said, "So, Potter's around—"

Wormtail came back down the steps.

"Yes, my Lord," Wormtail said, "Potter entered the Ministry a few moments ago, caused a ruckus in the Atrium."

"Therefore he is nearby," Voldemort said.

"Likely yes, my Lord." Wormtail climbed up the stone benches and hid among the other present Death Eaters.

Harry glimpsed down the parchment in his hand, looking at the ten lines, the scribbles, the curses, that Dumbledore had given him. Multi-colored light flowed out of Harry's wand, rotating from red to orange to yellow to green to blue to purple to white then back to red, cycling. Ten shots. The first ricocheted back, pulled Harry and Ron past the threshold into the death chamber. The second scattered among all, resulting in voluminous laughter. Shot after shot failed, with the last one, knives appeared in Voldemort's hands.

Harry and Ron locked eyes, then looked forward.

Their wands leveled and aimed at Voldemort, green beads of magic shot forth, hitting Voldemort. Voldemort laughed.

"I am the master of killing curses you fools!" Voldemort shouted.

A gust of wind blew out of their wands, Voldemort remained unmoved, but the black curtain flapped and the girls screamed into their gags as the force pushed them closer to the curtain.

Harry and Ron locked eyes for a second time, then looked at Voldemort facing them, arms extended with knife points approaching the necks of Hermione and Gia. Harry and Ron leapt forward, ran for Voldemort, arms forward. The form of Voldemort in front of the veil vanished as Harry and Ron reached it; instead, rocks materialized just in front of their feet. Both Harry and Ron tripped, fell foward, arching, moving, their momentum carrying them closer and closer to the veil. Their hands came into contact with the curtain, then their heads, their bodies, then finally their feet, vanishing as the curtain shielded the beyond from sight. A tear fell from Fawkes, perched on top of the unsupported stone archway, splattering and dribbling down the curtain.

Laughter came from the Death Eaters on the stone benches. Voldemort, standing on the bench above, smiled.

[END OF CHAPTER (but more is to come)]

1Ferengi Rule of Acquisition Number 76 from Star Trek — Every once in a while, declare peace. "It confuses the hell out of your enemies".