Author's Notes: A slight change in how the break into the Ministry takes place, and I hope you enjoy it.
Harry Potter and all related trademarks are the property of JK Rowling, and not of me. I'm just borrowing them.
Chapter Seven
It was on the first of September that Heather decided that there was no point in planning any longer. For weeks now they had been spying on the entrance to the Ministry, watching wizards and witches come and go, picking up whatever snippets of information they could get. This, combined with their knowledge of the inner working of the Ministry, thanks mostly to Ron who had visited several times with his father, had given them a fairly good picture of what they expected to face.
When Heather returned to Grimmauld Place that evening after spending the day on watch under the cloak, she was in a foul mood. In her hand was a crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet that a older wizard reeking of cigar smoke had dropped. On its front page, in the same place that her picture usually was these days, was a picture of the hook-nosed Professor Snape, newly announced Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She hung the invisibility cloak on a peg by the door before setting off down the stairs to the kitchen, where Hermione, Ron, and Kreacher were waiting.
"Shoes off, please Mistress Heather." Requested the elf as he bustled over, ladling out soup into bowls. Grinning despite her foul mood, Heather slid her shoes off, banishing them up to her room with her wand. Without further preamble, she slammed the paper down on the table in front of Ron and Hermione, who gasped and began to read. "Merlin's pants!" she cried a few minutes later before tearing upstairs.
Sharing a bemused expression with Ron, Heather sat down and pulled a diagram of the atrium towards her from where they had been studying it. Both of them were used to Hermione rushing off, usually to the library, and returning hours later to finally tell them what brainwave she had gotten. Thundering steps announced her return, and she was carrying Phineas Nigellus' portrait of all things.
"Snape can use him to look inside this house" she explained as she crammed the large portrait into her beaded bag.
As they ate, Heather informed them of her determination to attempt their break in the following morning. Nothing would be gained, she argued, by skulking around the entrance for another month. If they were going to go, they needed to do it now. It took some convincing but Hermione finally acquiesced and they set once more to going through the plan until each one could repeat it perfectly.
That night in her bedroom, Heather's scar began to prickle and burn. Not wanting another lecture from Hermione on letting Voldemort into her mind, she quickly cast muffliato on the door and gave way to the vision. Voldemort was knocking on the door of a cottage. When a woman opened it, he asked for Gregorovitch. The woman cried and tried to close the door on him, shouting that he didn't live here anymore. In a cold fury, Voldemort killed the woman and her family. Heather came back to herself in a cold sweat, her sheets icy to the touch. In an attempt to distract herself from what she had just seen, she repeated the plan to herself for another half hour before falling asleep.
The next morning, they each made one more check of their plan and gear before setting off. Kreacher promised to have a steak and kidney pie waiting for them, standing there in a fluffy white towel that had replaced his old stained loincloth. Out on the top step, Hermione and Ron dissaparated under the cloak, before she came back for Heather. With a wistful glance at the closed door to the house and the group of cloaked figures staring from across the street, Heather allowed herself to be pulled into the darkness.
They arrived moments later in the dingy alleyway they had been skulking in for weeks. Behind a dumpster stood Ron, who's wand was ready to stun anyone who wasn't supposed to be there. Hermione threw the cloak over him, all of them crouching low so their feet didn't show and waited. With a gasp, Hermione remembered that the padlocked door opposite them was supposed to be unlocked already and quickly aimed her wand at it.
"Alohamora" she whispered and the lock gave a very audible click.
It was another ten minutes later before their first target arrived in the alleyway. Before she had even taken a step towards the street Heather hit her in the square of the back with a stunning spell, followed quickly by Hermione's cushioning charm so there was no audible noise. Ron and Heather raced forwards to hide the limp form in the abandoned theatre that the unlocked door led too, remembering to snatch several grey hairs from her head before returning to the alley.
Hermione had a phial of polyjuice potion ready and Heather dumped the hairs into it. Instantly it turned a heliotrope color and Heather threw it back. Initially Hermione had intended to transform first, but Ron had insisted that it would be smarter for Heather to go first, as added security. While Heather's body went through the many changes it needed to become the unconscious woman's copy, Hermione rummaged through her handbag.
"You're Mafalda Hopkirk, Improper Use of Magic Office" she said, handing Heather a small identity card.
"Wait a minute, I know that name. She's the one who sent me those letters expelling me a few years back. I don't feel so bad stunning her now." Heather replied, sending one more look back towards the doorway that hid the stunned Mafalda and taking one of the golden coins Hermione was holding out to her along with Mafalda's handbag.
Realizing that they were exposed and only had moments left, Hermione and Ron retreated under the cloak just in time, as their second victim arrived moments later. He was a pale and ferrety little man, who looked incredibly uncomfortable. It wasn't easy for Heather to convince him to take one of the Puking Pastilles that she proffered, but finally he did. As he retched, Heather yanked some of his hairs and told him he'd better get to St. Mungo's. Reg Cattermole, as that was his name, continued attempting to reach the street before giving up and disappearing in a spray of vomit. A minute later Ron had taken on his appearance and changed into his robes.
"We'll be right back" he whispered to an invisible Hermione, and the two set off into the street. It was now after eight o'clock and the sidewalk was beginning to fill with wizards and witches heading to work. Roughly ten feet ahead of them, just emerging from another alleyway was an older witch with curly reddish-blonde hair that looked strangely familiar to Heather, but she couldn't place why. She raced forward, letting Ron hang back ready to stun the woman incase Heather was unsuccessful, and stumbled into her.
"Pardon me" Heather gasped, catching herself on the witch's robes.
"Oh Mafalda, my dear. In a rush today, are we?" the woman asked. It would seem that she knew the real Mafalda, and would need to be handled quickly before becoming too suspicious.
"Loose stone in the sidewalk, caught me unawares." She began to rummage in her handbag, then withdrew the small bag of sweets. "Would you care for a mint?" She asked, proffering the bag.
"Why, yes I would thanks. How sweet of you. I've had a bit of an upset stomach since I woke up."
Just as they had with Reg Cattermole, the effect was instantaneous. Sick sprayed from the woman's mouth, which Heather only just dodged. This woman, thankfully, was far easier to convince to go seek medical help. Deftly Heather snatched both hairs and her handbag as she gagged and dissaparated. Back in the alleyway Hermione took the potion.
"Get this," said Ron incredulously as he investigated the contents of her bag, "That woman's the mother of that girl, Marietta Edgecombe. You remember, the one who betrayed the D.A. to Umbridge?"
"What?" asked Heather, snatching away the card. That's why the woman had seemed familiar. She was the spitting image of her daughter.
"Yeah, Madam Edgecombe, works in the floo network office." Ron answered
"That might help us" gasped Hermione, the potion having finished its work. "She was fairly close to Umbridge if I remember rightly. Perhaps she still is. Well, we'd better get going."
Once more out on the street, the three of them fell in with the crowds approaching a pair of underground bathrooms. Ron waved goodbye to Heather and Hermione, and they queued up under a sign that read Ladies. In front of the four stalls inside were lines of witches, each inserting their golden coin into a slot before entering in turn. A loud flush, and then the next person would enter. When her turn came, Heather stepped in and looked around the small cubicle at a loss for what to do next. She saw a pair of high heeled shoes in the stall next to hers step up, and then a loud flushing sound. Crossing her fingers, Heather put one foot into the toilet, then the other. She knew it was the right thing to do as soon as she realized that her feet were still dry. As the pulled the chain a sudden memory of Moaning Myrtle zooming down a toilet at Hogwarts flashed before her eyes as she was sucked downwards.
Emerging from one of the fireplaces that lined the walls of the Atrium, she stumbled several feet before catching herself. The Atrium was darker than it had been the last time she had been here, and none of the pleasant greetings of Ministry workers greeting their fellows were to be heard. Everyone was filing towards the large statues and lifts at the end of the hall silently, a grim mood pervading everything. With a start, Heather realized that she statues themselves had changed as well. Instead of standing proudly and being gazed upon by sycophantic magical creatures, the witch and wizard were now seated on ornately carved thrones with the words Magic is Might carved into the plinth under their feet.
Heather found Hermione and Ron standing beside the pool under the statues, gazing sickeningly up at them. When she joined them, Hermione pointed out that the thrones were carved with the faces of what were supposed to be muggles. Shaking her head, Heather led both of them towards the lift. They were almost inside when a loud voice called out for Ron.
Whirling around, Heather saw Yaxley, a death eater that had watched Snape kill Dumbledore striding towards them, shoving several workers out of his way to get to them. He wanted "Reg" to go and fix his office, and actually threatened his wife, who was in the courtrooms below about to be questioned for being a Muggleborn, if Ron couldn't fix the issue. In the lift, which they had managed to get to themselves as no one seemed to want to be near them after Yaxley's threats, Hermione tried to help Ron come up with a plan for fixing the issue. Already it felt like their plan was falling apart, and they hadn't even been inside the Ministry for ten minutes yet.
When the lift clanged to a stop at Level Two, Hermione gave Ron a word of encouragement followed by a push, sending him into the bowels of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. As the lift resumed it's path to Level One, Hermione turned to Heather. "You know, I should probably go after him. I don't think he's going to be able to fix the issue without help."
If there hadn't been a woman's freedom on the line, Heather would have objected. Instead, she nodded and said, "Alright, here. Take the cloak just in case anything goes wrong." From the folds of her robes, she passed Hermione the invisibility cloak just as the lift came to a halt.
"Level One, Minister of Magic and Support Staff" came the disembodied voice as the cage opened. Hermione let out a small gasp. Standing there, waiting for their lift to arrive was Delores Umbridge and a wizard in robes of gold and black. Heather recognized his picture from a copy of the Daily Prophet as Pius Thicknesse, the new Minister of Magic.
"Ahh, Mafalda. Travers sent you? Well, that will work out perfectly, Minister" said Umbridge, looking directly at Heather. She entered the lift without another look, and nodded at Hermione. "Aren't you getting out here Madam Edgecombe?"
Mutely Hermione nodded and scurried from the lift, shooting Heather a discreet glance full of worry as she disappeared around a corner. Fright mixed with hatred grew in Heather's chest as she rode in the lift with Umbridge. Though the polyjuice potion had hidden the scars on the back of her hand where she had been forced to carve, I must not tell lies, this close proximity to Umbridge made the skin there crawl.
Umbridge spent the entire ride silently consulting a very long piece of parchment on a clipboard, full of what had to be the names of suspected Muggleborns. Over her shoulder Heather scanned the list, locating someone named "Mary Cattermole" just over halfway down. Once more, the feeling of desperation began to take hold as the plan they had so carefully crafted continued to erode. They had spent so much time just figuring out how to get in, let alone what to do once they were inside. Now they were separated, and time was running out. They had all taken enough of a dose to last for several hours or more, but how long would it take before she would be done with court proceedings. Knowing Umbridge, she would be in no hurry to rush each trial, taking perverse pleasure in persecuting innocent people.
When the lift arrived at Level Nine, Heather followed the short witch down the stone steps leading to the courtroom, feeling the cold chill that heralded the presence of dementors steeling over her.
"Expecto Patronum." Said Umbridge in her sickly sweetest voice that made Heather's skin crawl once more, and a silver cat emerged from the end of her wand, instantly warming both women. In the long dark passageway, there were more than thirty men and women crowded on benches outside the courtrooms, watched over by half a dozen dementors. Heather could tell by looking at them that despite the presence of the patronus, they weren't benefitting from it's warmth. At the sight of them, the cat seemed to glow brighter, its caster filling with joy at the prospect of what was about to happen.
Once settled behind the high balustrade inside the courtroom, Umbridge called for the first name on her list. "Dennis Creevey." Heather's blood went cold as the door opened and a small boy entered, followed closely by Yaxley and a pair of dementors who took up positions in the corners. Looking terrified, just stood there until ordered to sit in the chair, which instantly bound him to it. Yaxley climbed the steps and took a seat on the opposite side of Umbridge, reclining back and grinning horribly down at Dennis.
"You are Dennis Creevey?" asked Umbridge sweetly.
"Y-yes." Replied the tiny boy, his face gone completely pale
"You were removed from the Hogwarts Express yesterday, and a wand was confiscated from you. Please tell me from whom you stole that wand?"
Heather groaned internally as she watched Dennis splutter that the wand had been his. Both of the Creevey brothers had more heart than sense at times. They had both stalwartly supported her during their years together at Hogwarts, and were amongst the first to sign up for Dumbledore's Army. Heather had no trouble believing that Dennis had snuck aboard the train in a misguided attempt to reach the school and fight back against the new regime. She only hoped that Colin had had the sense to go into hiding. Surreptitiously she tried to glance at the list again and didn't see his name among the rest of the accused.
"I shall give you one more chance" said Umbridge, her voice as girlishly sweet as possible, cutting across Heather's thoughts. "Tell me who's magical powers you stole or face the consequences."
"I didn't steal anything!" shouted Dennis back at her. Despite how dire his situation was, his Gryffindor courage had not completely deserted him.
"Well, as you are unwilling to admit to your crimes and insist on lying to this court, I have no choice but to pronounce you guilty. You are hereby to be taken to Azkaban, and incarcerated there until the time comes that you are willing to admit to your crimes." She waved to the dementors, "Take him away."
Heather sat rooted to the spot, indecision filling her. Could she really let Dennis be taken away to Azkaban and just do nothing? Yes, she needed to find the horcrux and protect her cover for as long as possible, but what was the point in fighting against evil just to let it happen right under her nose. Unnoticed by Yaxley or Umbridge, who were watching the now crying boy be led from the courtroom with obvious glee, Heather fingered her wand, fighting the urge to summon her patronus. By the time she had finally decided to act, forgoing any chance of locating the locket, the door had opened and Dennis was gone.
Umbridge called another name, and an older wizard entered next. Heather barely paid attention as he too was soon sentenced to Azkaban. Guilty was the only verdict this court pronounced. One witch tried to apologize for stealing magic, clearly terrified of going to Azkaban and hoping this would get her some leniency, it didn't. Umbridge sentenced her just as she did the rest of them. Ice had settled on Heather's heart, and she despaired at what was happening right in front of her. She was brought back to the present by the cries of a wizard named "Alderton" who screamed time and time again that he was a half-blood, and pleading with Umbridge to look up his uncle who was supposedly a well know broom designer.
Mary Cattermole was called for next, and the small woman sat cautiously on the seat which bound her like it had all the rest. The trial proceeded in the same way as the rest had gone. Umbridge's patronus continued to grow brighter with pleasure, and she leaned over the railing to get a better view of her latest victim. With a start, Heather saw something small and gold swing out from the folds of the woman's large bosom, glinting in the torch light.
"That's-" exclaimed Heather, startling Umbridge. Apparently in her twisted pleasure she had forgotten Heather was even there.
"What? Oh yes" Umbridge said, looking down at the locket Heather was pointing to. "Pretty, don't you think. It's an old family heirloom. Passed down from one of my many pure-blood relations." She said, turning back to Mrs. Cattermole with a sick grin.
Something inside Heather finally snapped. Casually resting her hand on her wand, she waited until Yaxley and Umbridge had returned their full attention to the woman in the chair before deftly stunning both of them. As Umbridge's head thunked on the balustrade, her patronus vanished and a chill crept over Heather. Whipping around, she summoned her doe, throwing back the dementors who had begun to sweep in, sensing their masters were no longer in control.
Mrs. Cattermole began to scream in terror, and Heather had to stun her in order to gain the time she needed to work before reinforcements showed up. Snatching the locket from Umbridge's neck, Heather copied it using the Gemino charm, hoping she wouldn't be able to tell the difference. For good measure she quickly searched both of her victims, chucking their wands into far corners of the room before rushing to Mrs. Cattermole.
"Enervate" she whispered, and the unconscious woman's eyes fluttered open.
"Wha-"
"Shh. Sorry I had to stun you but there wasn't time to explain. Here, Relashio." The chains on the chair began to clink back, releasing the woman. "Come with me. You need to get out of here. Flee the country if you can, ok?"
Mrs. Cattermole, who's eyes were still wide in terror, nodded and followed Heather towards the door to the courtroom. Her doe by her side, Heather sprang through the door into the corridor to the shock of the waiting muggleborns. Heather had hoped that those who were already sentenced would still be waiting, but none of the faces she saw looked familiar and no sign of Dennis.
"Listen up," she cried loudly as the dementors retreated before the presence of her patronus, "You are all going to come with me. When we get clear of the Ministry you are all to go into hiding. Now, you lot follow me! Anyone who hasn't got a wand, hold tight to someone who does."
With this said, she took off up the stairs and out into the corridor that led to the Department of Mysteries, followed by her new charges. Just as they reached the lifts and she began to have misgivings about being able to get these people to safety through the crowded Atrium, a lift clanged into view and Ron and Hermione rushed out.
"Heather!" cried Hermione breathlessly, "What happened?"
"Long story. Come on, we haven't got much time." Heather answered, bodily pushing her friends backwards. The twenty-five or so of them crowded into two lifts and the golden grilles closed. Just at the lifts began to rise, alarms began to sound in the distance and Heather shared a look with Hermione and Ron.
"Guess they found Umbridge" she muttered to their stunned expressions.
Out in the Atrium, wizards were running from fireplace to fireplace, sealing them.
"Wait!" cried Heather, rushing forward.
A tall wizard paused and looked around at her. Heather knew she that she wouldn't be able to talk him into letting them all go, and so played for time until she could get close enough to him.
"Don't seal them yet. This is Madam Edgecombe of the Magical Transport Department."
"And?" the wizard asked loudly as Heather came running towards him. He was clearly suspicious, but also seemed unwilling to draw his wand on them. That was exactly what Heather had been hoping for.
When she was five feet away from him, she aimed her wand and sent a stunning spell flying that he was to slow to block. Quickly Hermione and Ron took the cue and began to stun everyone close enough to try and intercede while the muggleborns dove for the fireplaces. Battle ensued as Ministry wizards began sending hexes towards them, but enough confusion had taken place that none of them were quite sure to aim at. With the last of her charges gone, Heather turned and began to sprint for the closest fireplace when she saw the tall figure of Yaxley break through the crowd, barreling towards them.
Through the grate and into the toilet Heather emerged to find Hermione and Ron already waiting for her. Heather grabbed each of them by the hand and turned on the spot just as Yaxley came flying into view. In the suffocating darkness, Heather could feel Hermione's hand being pulled from hers. The door of Number Twelve appeared ahead of them, but just as Heather landed, there was a shout and a curse, and Hermione latched onto her hand once more and pulled them again into darkness.