Hello all - short chapter this update, but fear not, another chapter is soon on the way. I should have it ready by Saturday.
As always, it isn't mine, it's JKR's.
Chapter Nineteen: Inside Help
"Kreacher has the thief's wand, if Master would like it," said the aged elf, presenting the stubby wand to Harry. Harry took it and set it upon the kitchen table.
"Bloody elf," bellowed Mundungus as he swung drunkenly at Kreacher, "taking a wizard's wand. You've no right."
"You're one to talk, 'Dung," said Harry, pointing his wand at Mundungus. The thief fell quiet as he eyed the wand. He glanced to Arthur and Remus and realized they weren't in any hurry to bail him out of his current predicament, but rather observed the whole scene with mild amusement. Seeing no other means of escape, 'Dung's shoulders dropped and no longer resisted the elf's restraints.
"Wha've I done, then, eh," asked Mundungus. "Why've you sent a bleedin' 'ouse-elf after me?"
"Kreacher would have captured the sneak thief sooner, Master, but he is very skilled at hiding in shadows." Harry gave the elf a courteous bow; he still didn't like Kreacher, but he had come through for him when it mattered.
"You did brilliantly, Kreacher, thank you," said Harry. Clearly not used to gratitude, the elf returned a subdued bow. Harry then turned to Mundungus once more. "We have questions for you, 'Dung and you'd best answer them truthfully."
"Look," he said, his whisky-rich and tobacco breathe more prominent than ever, "I panicked tha' night. I ne'er wanted to come along but Mad-Eye made me. I didn' sign up to die for you, 'specially not by bleedin' You-Know-Who flyin' in the air."
"You're a coward 'Dung, we all know that," said Harry, his eyes flashing. "Like I said, I didn't have you brought here to ask about why you left Mad-Eye to die." He didn't bother leaving out the disgust in his voice. Mundungus shrunk back slightly, appearing surprised by Harry's tone as well.
"Is this about them goblets again? I ain't got any of 'em left, or I'd give 'em to you, honest—"
"Getting warmer," said Harry, bringing his wand an inch from 'Dung's forehead while grabbing the back of a chair with his free hand. He took his seat, inches from Mundungus and got eye level with the thief.
"When you cleaned out this house of anything you thought valuable, and don't deny it," added Harry, his wand now prodding 'Dung's forehead as the thief attempted to interrupt, "when you stripped this house clean, you nicked things from the kitchen cupboard. Am I right?"
"Sirius didn't care about any of tha' junk—"
WHACK
Kreacher struck quicker than anyone had been able to react as he brought a copper plated pan to the back of "dung's head.
"Call 'im off, would ya, bleedin' monster," howled Mundungus, his hands cupping the back of his balding head.
"Kreacher, I need him," said Harry quickly. The elf at first gave him a loathing look but appeared to remember his agreement with Harry and then gave a mischievous smile.
"Kreacher is sorry, Master, but Kreacher only hoped to help jog the thief's memory. Perhaps another would cure the thief of his hangover?" Ron struggled to contain his laugh but failed horribly, his laugh coming on as a set of stifled and disjointed snorts to which Hermione gave him a look of deep disapproval.
"Not now, Kreacher, but if he decides not to cooperate, you can remind him what's at stake."
"Kreacher would like that very much," said the elf with great hunger in his eyes.
"Well, 'Dung, did you?"
"Yeah, I nicked stuff from there, why do ya care anyway?" 'Dung immediately tried to back pedal upon seeing Harry's eyes flash. "Sorry, sorry, I didn' mean—"
"Remembered it was my Godfather you stole from, do you," asked Harry coldly. "You're right; I didn't care about the value of anything in this house. That doesn't mean you had any right to take anything."
"I didn't see the harm in takin' it," said 'Dung earnestly. "Sirius bein' dead an' all, he wouldn't have any use for it anymore." This was the wrong thing to say. Harry bolted from his chair as he brought his wand forcibly to 'Dung's cheek bone and pressed hard. Remus stepped forward this time.
"Harry, take it easy," he said. "You won't get what you're looking for hurting him."
"So it's alright with you then, so long as he's dead," repeated Harry, not once looking at Remus. "Did you try nicking stuff from Dumbledore's study too?"
"Can't bloody well 'ave done tha', could I?" Harry pressed further into his cheek bone. Remus grabbed Harry's wrist warningly. Harry pulled away and Mundungus relaxed. Harry set his wand upon the table not far from Mundungus'. Then, without warning, Harry curled his hand into a tight fist and hit 'Dung squarely where his wand had been moments before. Mundungus was flung from the chair and landed with a loud thud onto the kitchen floor.
"Harry," shouted Remus, grabbing his once young charge before he could launch himself at the crumpled man sprawled across the floor. "You need to calm down. This is not the way." Harry stopped struggling and Remus let go. Harry took his wand and knelt down on the floor beside 'Dung and pointed it directly over his chest.
"There was a silver locket, with a green face and an ornate 's'; what did you do with it?"
"What would ya want with a locket," asked 'Dung bewildered and with a wheezing voice. The air had been knocked clean from him.
"None of your business, is it?"
"Is it valuable?"
"You've still got it," said Hermione, hopeful.
"Not bloody likely," said Ron. "He's just hoping it didn't sell it cheap."
"Bleedin' gave it away, didn' I," said 'Dung, his voice recovering. "I was lucky not to 'ave any trouble for havin' it in the first place."
"Explain," said Harry, nervous for the first time. 'Dung was their only lead.
"I was sellin' in Diagon Alley, like always," said 'Dung, speaking quickly, "can't sell in Knocturn now-a-days, see—ever'body knows I was workin' for Dumbledore now, after You-Know-Who sees me on that broom with Mad-Eye—and then she came up to me, high an' mighty like an' asks me if I got a license for sellin' magical artifacts. Bleedin' snoop," he added. "She was gonna fine me, but she took a fancy to the locket an' told me she'd take it and let me off this time around. Won't ever forget tha' voice."
"Who, 'Dung," asked Harry pointedly.
"I dunno, do I," said Mundungus, grunting as moved his back and made to sit up, "some Ministry hag, she was." He rubbed his temple vigorously, then said: "Pretty short, now tha' I recall, dressed in all pink with a bow and kinda reminded me of a toad I used to have as a student. But her voice was worse—sounded like poison'd honey, it did. She was polite but she didn' mean a word o' what she said."
"No, not her," said Harry, shaking his head. He looked up and found his own surprise and fear reflected in Ron's and Hermione's faces. Harry subconsciously found the scars on the back of his right hand.
"Kreacher, take this filth from the house—I don't care where you leave him, just make sure no one's around when you do," said Harry, addressing the elf.
"Yes, Master, Kreacher would be delighted." And before Mundungus could react, Kreacher had gathered 'Dung's wand and Apparated the both of them from the house.
"You were quite rough with 'Dung," said Remus, his voice carrying a bite of disappointment. "Dumbledore would not have approved, and nor do I."
"I know," said Harry. "But I'm not Dumbledore." He looked at both Remus and Arthur. "More importantly, Dumbledore was human, just like me; he had his faults and I have mine. Dumbledore was like a grandfather to me, but he trusted too easily and gave people more chances than they deserved and ultimately paid the price for it, just like I'm impatient and hot-headed. Like Dumbledore, I and other people have paid the price for it. Thankfully, I have Ron and Hermione to keep me in check. I know I was rough, but the stakes are too high to beat around the bush with people like 'Dung who only care about saving their own skins. And he reminds me of Pettigrew on top of it all—a bloody coward."
"Harry," said Hermione, giving him a warning look, but unlike Remus, she also carried understanding in her eyes.
"Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "This just got a whole lot more difficult." He looked from Ron to Hermione. "You realize we'll have to sneak inside the Ministry to get it back."
"Into the Ministry," exclaimed Arthur, truly looking worried. "You can't go in there; you're as good as dead if you're found, Harry."
"Don't have any choice," said Harry. "We need that locket."
"Harry," said Remus, looking quite inquisitive, "does this locket have something to do with the task Dumbledore gave you?" Harry nodded.
"We have to get it back."
"What was this locket doing here in the first place," asked Arthur. "If it was so important, why was it thrown out?"
"I can't go into details," said Harry, "but suffice it to say that Regulus was not the Death Eater Sirius believed him to be; not entirely. Regarding the locket, well, it's more than it appears to be."
"What," asked Remus and Arthur simultaneously.
"Kreacher told us about the locket," continued Harry. "He told us about Regulus—how he joined, and how he turned against Vol—sorry—against Tom, and it cost him his life."
"I never would have believed it," said Remus softly, slumping down into a chair.
"Harry," said Hermione taking a seat and motioning for him to do so as well. Once he and Ron sat down, she continued. "Harry, you realize getting inside the Ministry won't be easy. We can't go as ourselves, and one Invisibility Cloak is not enough for all three of us to hide underneath anymore."
"The cloak wouldn't work once you crossed Ministry threshold," said Arthur wearily. "Not now, anyway." Arthur sported a distant expression now. "Nor will Disillusionment Charms." He looked to Harry, though his gaze looked past him. "I know you'll hate to hear this, but you need our help, son."
"What you need," said Remus, "is a way to conceal your identity that isn't detectible by magical means, particularly by the wards, which are immensely powerful. Only Hogwarts can boast as having more powerful wards."
"Polyjuice Potion, then," said Hermione. "That takes a month to brew."
"We don't have that kind of time," said Harry irritably.
"The Order has plenty of Polyjuice," said Remus, nodding his agreement. "Mad-Eye had quite the stockpile."
"Harry, who has the locket," asked Arthur.
"Doloris Umbridge," said Harry, his voice surprisingly hollow.
"Oh dear," he said. "This really is about to get complicated."
"Why," asked Hermione.
"Because Umbridge is a high ranking ministry official and she's the Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission," said Arthur. "The campaign is her design."
"Which means at least one of you will need to be disguised as someone within her department," observed Remus. "Or even the DMLE."
"Mafalda Hopkirk," said Arthur immediately. "She's present at every Muggle-born hearing as the courtroom clerk. Hermione has the best chance of pulling that off convincingly. I can get a sample of her hair easily enough. Let's see…" Mr. Weasley began pacing the kitchen as he counted names on his fingers.
"Runcorn," said Arthur, one finger pressed against another all while conversing with himself. "Yes, that might work; with a proper cover story…he has enough clearance to not rouse any suspicion…so long as we're careful. Now, finally, hmm…" Arthur continued to pace for several more minutes and the kitchen fell into silence.
"Got it," said Arthur, finally, looking triumphant. "We'll get one of the Magical Maintenance members…we'll have to get that one last though…they're more likely to have someone in their family brought for questioning, so it'll need to be someone already cleared."
"Er, Arthur," said Remus, sporting a small grin, " would you mind filling us in?"
"Yes, of course, sorry," said Arthur, sitting down again. "I can get you into the Ministry, and all three of you into the courtroom with Dolores, provided all goes well. And, this way, myself and Kingsley can help if something goes awry."
"Mr. Weasley, I can't thank you enough."
"Arthur, Harry," he said, beaming. "It's Arthur.