Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
Hello, lovelies, I'm certain there are going to be mixed reviews about this chapter, but it ends on a high-ish note so I hope that satisfies people. I really do feel like the Wizarding World would have a ton of safeguards in place to protect those with power, so that's the mindset I'm working with. Plus, Dumbledore is a notoriously manipulative and slippery villain portrayed as a hero and it isn't easy to knock him down. But he is on the decline. So stick with me! I promise he will get his due and I hope it will feel satisfying for all of you.
The next chapter will be dealing with the Dark Creatures, so that will take a minute to write I think. Especially since I have family visiting soon and won't be able to write much. I'm not sure if I'll do all of the Dark Creatures in one chapter or break it up. I guess I'll just see how the scenes flow and go from there.
Thank you all for sticking around and continuing to read and love this story as much as you do, it really does help with continuing to write. This story has progressed and developed so far beyond what I originally planned and intended when I started this three years ago. Three years! I can hardly believe it and it's still going! Thank you, thank you for your support and I hope to continue being worthy of your readership.
We Need A Plan
Lucius Malfoy clutched the worn and wrinkled paper between his hands tighter, the only outlet he allowed himself for releasing his anxiety. He'd answered the summons and arrived in the foyer at the same time as the rest of the Inner Circle. Any delay or hesitation in responding would not be met favorably. The foyer had been cleared of all of those Yule decorations and the pristine cleanliness was much more preferable. Why the Dark Lord had allowed Potter the frivolity of decorating was lost on Lucius. He knew that Avery and the Lestrange brothers and Severus had their theories. Well, Severus hadn't actually said anything but Lucius knew the man suspected something, even though he wouldn't say no matter how much Lucius needled and pressed. It was ridiculously unfair.
It was all ludicrous theories though. The very thought of the Dark Lord being fond or affectionate towards anyone especially a teenager – an immensely powerful teenager but a teenager nonetheless – who was only just learning politics and couldn't offer much of anything at the moment was the epitome of ridiculousness. It was true that Lucius didn't interact with Potter more than he needed to. He still remembered his previous encounters with the boy such as when the brat stole his house-elf or how the boy was the reason that he spent a few months in Azkaban just that summer. So Lucius would do as necessary and obey his Masters' orders to aide Potter in the Wizengamot but he wasn't going to go needlessly out of his way to ingratiate himself to a sixteen-year-old. He had pride, more than Avery anyway. Avery was even actually bowing and scraping to the boy at every opportunity, disgusting. Lucius knew that Avery was technically still owned by Potter but the subservience was a bit much and Lucius was surprised that the Dark Lord hadn't tortured Avery for being such a sniveling worm yet.
Even Narcissa was always going on about Potters' influence and his favorability for future potential matches, but Lucius still thought it a stretch. Thankfully his delightful wife didn't agree with the theories either. As if the Dark Lord would ever need or desire a partner. The Dark Lord was untouchable, the nearest thing to a god that Lucius could fathom, and deities didn't succumb to basic human needs. Besides, Lucius knew he was highly observant and he hadn't noticed anything to support those theories.
Lucius glanced at the others of the Inner Circle, their faces tight and pale, no one was eager to begin this meeting with the Dark Lord. In recent weeks and months, Lucius had been feeling hopeful, uplifted even, in regards to his future and the future of the Wizarding World. However now, with the release of the Prophet and Skeeters' article and Yaxley dying, things were a mess and from the burning in his Mark, Lucius knew the Dark Lord was furious.
Memories of their last summons still haunted him, it hadn't been that bad in months; not since Potter had joined at least. A sudden crash sounded in the Gathering Room causing Lennox Avery, Thorfin Rowle, and Patrick Parkinson to jump, and the Lestrange brothers and Emerson Greengrass spun to face the large double doors, wands at the ready. Lucius's own hand had landed on his wand but he hadn't drawn it. To draw his wand in his Lord's home would only be asking for further punishment. But he, along with the others, crept closer to the double doors and he withheld the wince at the other crashing sounds he heard.
"– calm down –" a muffled voice shouted.
"– plans – calm –" another voice replied and then the sound of something else breaking. Lucius and the rest of the Inner Circle all stood facing the double doors, trepidation, and anxiety rising. Did they be on time and invoke his wrath for interrupting or not interrupt and be late and invoke their Lord's anger for that reason?
No one made a move to open the door.
Another crash and then an indistinct voice – not shouting – speaking now. Suddenly, the center of the doors turned transparent, a perfect circle of visibility, and sound penetrated the foyer. Lucius quickly glanced at the other men but couldn't tell who had cast the spells necessary to achieve this. It had to have been more than one for the different senses to happen simultaneously and so strongly because the circle of visibility was larger than normal. It could have been any of them, these were spells that any worthy Slytherin learned and they weren't all Inner Circle without being consummate Slytherins. The transparency was only one way, allowing the viewers to see into the room without being noticed. He decided not to call anyone out though and focus back on the glimpse inside the Gathering Room. In Lucius' life, he had learned one thing above all else: any intelligence was good intelligence.
Inside the room, he saw the Dark Lord in his human form and Potter and many broken shards littering the floor, of what he couldn't tell. Potter was sitting on the Dark Lords' throne again with the Daily Prophet, edges burnt and smoking, in his hands and his legs tossed over one of the throne arms. The Dark Lord paced, disappearing from sight for a few moments as he passed out of the section of visibility the spell provided. Potter looked exhausted, there was no better way to describe his hunched shoulders and thin lips as his eyes tracked the movements of the Dark Lord over the edge of the newspaper.
The Dark Lord looked more human and yet more impenetrable at the same time. His dark hair coiffed perfectly and his skin ghostly pale, he looked like ice or carved marble. He looked so horribly beautiful that it was painful to look at, the devil with the face of an angel. The thought had tickled his mind since Lucius had first seen his true form. The Dark Lords' pacing was erratic, frantic even. His statuesque figure was bent slightly, staring at the ground with a rabid intensity. Despite not being the focus of that gaze, Lucius felt a shiver creep up his spine.
"You have to admit," Potter said dryly, "Rita certainly knows how to write an article. Hermione ought to keep her in a jar again."
Through the spells, the voice was distorted. Each word was perfectly heard and Lucius knew it was Potter who spoke but the voice sounded strange, not quite like speaking through water but close, slightly muffled but oddly distinct. This was the problem when people used spells without coordination, Lucius thought with disdain. There were three spells that Lucius knew off the top of his head that enhanced eavesdropping and he didn't know which ones or how many had been used. The layered effect interfered with the quality. Imbeciles, Lucius thought silently, purposefully spying on their Lord and Master but doing it so terribly. It was a wonder that they weren't all done away with.
Potter's comment made no sense to Lucius but he let it slide. He was well aware that there was far more about Potter that he was unaware of and would probably never know. A side glance at Severus showed that the spy seemed unaware as well. It was the slight downturn of the thin lips that gave it away but Lucius prided himself on many things, one of which was noticing things.
"Why trap her when you can torture her?" the Dark Lord said derisively. Potter rolled his eyes. Lucius couldn't stop the flinch at the casual gesture. Potter rolled his eyes at the Dark Lord! Rolled his eyes! He knew Potter got away with much more than the rest and that he and the Dark Lord had entered into an agreement of some sort but the blatant disrespect, was baffling.
"You can't just torture–" Potter began.
"Do not tell me what to do!" The Dark Lord yelled, whirling to face Potter and jerking his wand in a way that both conjured and destroyed an object in seconds. Lucius blinked at the speed of the conjuration and destruction. Had it been a vase or a simple slab of stone or something else entirely? It had all happened too fast to tell. Another reason why his Lord was the most powerful and feared Dark Lord in history and why Lucius was proud to be such a trusted member of the cause.
Potter didn't even flinch at the blast that happened just past his shoulder. "Oi!" Potter shouted, but sounded more exasperated than angry, and ignored the Dark Lords' scathing glare. "I'm just saying torturing people won't help anything, it'll just make things worse."
"Don't presume to just sit there and lecture me, Harry," the Dark Lord said, the words bordering on Parseltongue in the way the Dark Lord spoke them. Lucius shivered involuntarily. He admired Parseltongue and respected it as a connection to the great Salazar Slytherin but the sound of it still unnerved him. Instinctively Lucius cast a quick glance around for his Lord's fearsome snake, thankfully it didn't seem to be present.
"You don't think I'm furious too?" Potter asked through clenched teeth, throwing the newspaper down but not standing up. "It's my name being slandered."
"Then torture them with me," the Dark Lord said, his rabid enthusiasm had Lucius's skin crawling and his gut twisting. It was a vivid reminder of how it had been before his Lord's absence over a decade ago. Potter pursed his lips and didn't meet the Dark Lords' eye, looking at the newspaper on the ground instead. Lucius swallowed hard at the thought of Potter embracing Death, embracing his Necromantic heritage. The memories of Bellatrix and Travers being killed still haunted his nights. He didn't want to face the same fate.
"No, no," Potter said shaking his head, the dark wild hair he was known for bouncing a bit at the movement. "We don't need to torture them, Marvolo, there is no point. They didn't do anything wrong."
Marvolo? Lucius thought with a mix of confusion and piqued curiosity. He saw similar emotions flit across the face of Emerson Greengrass and Thorfin Rowle, but the others were too practiced in their masks, but he knew they were questioning the name too.
"They didn't stop it. They didn't prevent it. They displeased me in not even considering or thinking of the possibility."
"You didn't think of the possibility either," Potter argued fiercely and the Dark Lord scowled at him before conjuring multiple objects and blasting them apart in quick succession. "And neither did I. Anger isn't going to fix anything. We need a plan."
The Dark Lord growled and strode out of sight from the window in the doors. Lucius swallowed hard. He was riveted to the scene playing out in front of him. A small part of him felt grateful to Potter for pleading on their behalf. It was a bitter taste on his tongue to realize that he owed his potential safety to Harry Potter but it was one he had grown unfortunately accustomed to in recent months. Luckily, he had numerous bottles of the finest wines to wash out the taste.
"I'm going to talk to Amelia, see if she can give me more information. We can't make a plan with only the filtered information the Prophet gave us."
"What makes you think she'll talk to you? Amelia Bones is notoriously tightlipped. None of my people have ever been able to sway her." The Dark Lord said dismissively, conjuring and destroying objects with quick flicks of his wrist. Lucius winced at the reminder of the blatant failure on their part. "What reason would you have to even see her?"
"She's my friend," Potter said slowly in a voice that sounded like he'd said the same multiple times. "It's logical to go check up on friends when they are being targeted in the press. I've been telling you friendship opens more doors than fear. And if you can't wrap your manipulative mind around that concept, then think of it as a Faction Leader checking up on their people."
The Dark Lord pursed his lips and destroyed a few more things. One spell blew a hole in the wall. Potter drew his wand and repaired the hole with practiced ease.
"Yes, information…You're sure you can get Bones to talk?" The Dark Lord asked.
Potter sighed as the Dark Lord strode closer to Potter during his newest rotation and stood from the throne. Potter caught the Dark Lords' arm to stop the pacing and the Dark Lord froze at the touch. Lucius swallowed, certain now that Potter would be tortured. Of all other disrespectful tendencies, surely daring to grab the Dark Lord, to physically inhibit the Dark Lord would be the gravest infraction, surely that was pushing the boundary line.
"Remember what you told me?" Potter asked softly, almost too quietly for the auditory spells to catch. "There are no true losses. Everything is salvageable. "
"Yes, not all is lost. But be still, it seems that we are not alone," the Dark Lord said just as softly.
Lucius swallowed thickly, a thrill of fear tickling his skin and spine. The Dark Lord turned and faced the double doors, the doors that lead to the cluster of Death Eaters that stood watching the scene unfold. As if in slow motion the doors creaked open and Lucius was now faced with the Dark Lord and Harry Potter, caught in the act of spying. Lucius dropped to a kneel so swiftly that his knee banged hard against the floor but he withheld the wince of pain it brought. His long hair covered most of his view but he knew it blocked others from seeing his eyes as well. He'd long developed the technique of spying through his long hair, it usually gave him the additional edge he needed over others. Any knowledge was good knowledge after all.
The Dark Lord looked murderous and Potter looked resigned and annoyed. Lucius mentally winced, it had seemed as though the boy had managed to persuade the Dark Lord against torture before they'd been found. Potter hissed something that shifted the Dark Lords' gaze to himself. And Lucius found himself able to breathe once again. Shaky, trembling breaths as they were. He'd never enjoyed pain, inflicting pain on others who displeased him was necessary and a good stress reliever but he'd never liked pain himself. And he knew he was about to experience a world of it. He hoped he'd live to see his dear Narcissa after this was all over. She was so good at healing and patching him back up again, and rewarding him for living another day.
His Master responded to Potter with another hiss that had terror flooding his veins. Potter responded with a look that Lucius couldn't decipher. No words were spoken and Lucius risked a glance at the others, it was harder spying through his hair side to side than it was forward. Sadly he had the most stonefaced of them all next to him, Severus and Julien, and those two gave no indication of anything.
Maybe there was some truth to the theories that Avery and the Lestranges insisted on…no, surely not. Lucius prided himself on noticing things and he hadn't noticed even a hint of something more than professional necessity, it was all just a physiological ploy to heighten the tension and the stress. Those looks…no, it was all just a ploy.
"Well, I'll be back soon," Potter said aloud in English. "Remember, don't kill them while I'm gone."
"Only when you get back," the Dark Lord said, and if Lucius didn't know the Dark Lord better, and Lucius, as the right-hand man of the Dark Lord and considered himself well studied about the man, he'd have said the tone was fond or amused, like a tone someone used in regards to an inside joke. But the Dark Lord didn't do humor, he was too high above other mortals to require it, so that couldn't have been it.
"You'd hardly deny me my own trade, would you?" Potter replied sounding strangely coy and sweet.
Lucius watched Potter's feet walk away and then there was silence. "Ssssooo," the Dark Lord said softly, sibilantly, and Lucius couldn't stop the trembling shiver that enveloped his limbs. "My loyal followers…or perhaps not so loyal…"
The halls of the Ministry of Magic were surprisingly barren as Harry strode briskly through them. Those who did see him luckily didn't stop him for conversation. Their eyes took in his stiff jaw and high head and the mourning band still prominently on his arm, stark against his dark-colored robes, and pressed closer to the walls when he walked by, giving him a clear space. Harry was beyond furious but he had a goal to focus on, so that helped him contain the anger a bit. If after this visit things appeared worse off than he'd thought then he'd unleash his anger, but he had to hope things were salvageable.
He'd left Marvolo to deal with his unfortunate Inner Circle. The fools who'd been caught spying on their conversation. He really hoped Marvolo wouldn't kill them, but he'd been in a rage before and there was no telling how he'd get with free reign. It had already taken a lot of convincing for Marvolo to not summon everyone and only call on a few and then those bloody Slytherins had to go and snoop. Harry ran a hand through his hair. He did feel a little guilty about leaving an enraged Marvolo to release his rage on the minions, but Harry was hoping that the information he could get from Amelia would be enough to distract Marvolo from being too murderous. Plus, they really did need more information before they made any more plans.
Harry counted the small blessings that he didn't have to go through the entire Auror Office to reach his faction member. He really didn't think his tenuous grasp on his temper could handle it. Instead, he turned off into the office of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement a full four doors sooner than the Auror Office rooms. The Office of the DMLE was fairly standard, from all of Harry's experience with office buildings, and held a rectangular office with a few doors branching off of it. Each door had a placard naming the office the door hid. The entry room had three desks, each manned by a secretary, and multiple stiff-backed chairs lined the walls. Of the three secretaries, one looked aged and the other two fresh from Hogwarts. They all jolted at the sight of him, rushing to stand in greeting.
"Is Madam Bones available?" Harry bit out before they could begin with the pleasantries.
"Madam Bones is very busy –" the oldest secretary began. She held the middle desk the one that backed into the door labeled 'Head of the DMLE: Amelia Bones'. The woman had grey hair and a few wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, but a stern face and a hard jaw.
"I need to speak with her. Tell her I'm waiting," Harry said, cutting the woman off again. Maybe he should be nicer, he thought belatedly. Marvolo was always going on about honey versus vinegar in regards to politics, which Harry thought was hypocritical considering he was an all-powerful and feared Dark Lord who was probably currently torturing his minions. But Harry was just so tired of it all and he just wanted to talk to Amelia and he thought there was something to be said about Gryffindor's bluntness.
"Lord Potter, I'm sorry, she's –"
"I am Madam Bones' Faction Leader. I am someone quite invested in the case involving not just Alastor Moody but also Corban Yaxley. I am also someone who could assist in providing additional intelligence regarding this case. You will let me in. Now." The older woman faltered, visibly torn between Madam Bones' obvious orders to not accept visitors and Harry's obvious sway and authority. Harry plastered on a charmingly fake smile and leaned his hands against the woman's desk. "How about you just save us both the trouble and go tell Amelia that Harry Potter wishes to speak with her. Let her decide."
The woman made a movement towards the door, aborted it abruptly, and then after another glance at Harry finished the movement and knocked on the door before poking her head in. Harry straightened and glanced at the other two secretaries. They were both staring at him wide-eyed, awe and fear evenly distributed between them both. He didn't recognize them but they looked young enough that their school years had probably crossed paths.
The conversation didn't seem to last long and soon the secretary was facing Harry again. Her face was contrite and pleasant now, more grandmotherly, holding her arm out as if to show him the way to the door. Harry gave her a stiff nod and offered her a smile but he was sure it was more of a grimace, before striding through the open door and shutting it firmly behind him.
Amelia's office was rather plain and simple, exactly what he expected. There was a Floo fireplace on one wall, a few pictures of Susan or people Harry assumed were family and friends from Amelia's childhood on the fireplace mantel, and then a few awards that Amelia had won in her years of service were hung on the walls but that was it for decoration. There was a single plant in the corner between the door and the fireplace but it looked a bit wilted and sad. The main focus of the office was the large desk in the middle of it. It was larger than most Harry had seen, maybe even larger than Marvolo's, and it looked very solid but currently, it was drowning under piles of papers and folders. There were two armchairs facing the desk and then Amelia occupied the chair behind the desk. She looked exhausted and Harry felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was half slouched over the desk, her head propped up with one hand while the other wrote furiously on a piece of parchment. Amelia barely spared him a glance as he shut the door.
He moved to take a seat. Noting the ink smudges covering the side of her arm and hand, and the way her hair looked unkept in the manner that suggested her hand running through it multiple times. Her monocle glinted in the reflected light as she scrutinized him, though most of her focus was on whatever she was writing. He sat in silence. Harry had learned patience above all in his time under Marvolo's roof and he utilized it now. Finally, Amelia finished whatever she was writing and tossed her quill aside, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. She looked exhausted, face drawn and dark bags under her eyes.
"How are you?" Harry finally asked.
Amelia snorted bitterly. "Oh you know, can't complain. Just another day of work," she said drily. "Suppose I should ask you the same, but I won't because I can fathom some guesses. Let's get to the part about why you're here, Harry."
A wry smile twisted his lips, he had to admire Amelia's straightforward personality. "A couple of reasons. But the main is that I consider you my friend and I think it's in my right to check on you. I went to your house, but your elf informed me you haven't been home in three days."
"You've read the papers, I'm sure you can guess why," Amelia replied bitterly.
He could. Harry could easily imagine the reporters at the Daily Prophet twisting Amelia going home at night to mean her not caring enough about the chaos of Yaxley's murder or about the lives of muggles or to show that she actually supported Dumbledore or that she supported Voldemort. Yes, Harry could easily imagine how the papers could turn even more vicious.
"Well, I'm also offering my assistance. Maybe I could say something to the press about how I don't blame you and how I'm still supporting the Aurors. Something to prove good relations. Public opinion of me is still high, and I can use that."
"Rather Slytherin of you," Amelia said with a tilt to her head. Despite her obvious exhaustion, her eyes were just as sharp and critical as always. Her monocle glinted and Harry felt as though with it she could see through to his very core.
"A side I've learned to embrace," Harry said simply. "So, can I help?"
Amelia sighed deeply. "I'm sure it can't hurt. However, I'm also sure you're real purpose here is to get more information out of me." Harry swallowed and tried to keep his face smooth but he knew he hadn't been able to hide the wince. Amelia smiled, not unkindly. "Come now, Harry. It's not a wild leap to guess. As you told my secretary, quite harshly might I say, you are very invested in this case. It's logical you would want to know more than what the Prophet is printing."
Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed, before giving Amelia a rueful grin. "That is part of it," he admitted. "But I really am also concerned as your friend," he insisted. He had to make sure she knew, had to make sure she knew this wasn't just business. He cared for Amelia, considered her a good friend, and he couldn't stand the fact of her thinking it was all fake. He wasn't like Marvolo or Dumbledore, he actually cared about those around him.
Chuckling softly, Amelia waved a hand to dismiss his insistence. "I'm sure you are, Harry. I'd think you a horribly callous and cruel person if you weren't and from what I know of you, Harry, you are anything but callous and cruel."
The tightness in his chest eased at her words and he gave a relieved smile. And then a slightly awkward silence settled. Harry wasn't sure how to still ask for the information now. Did he continue pushing or did he just leave knowing she still thought him a decent person? But also didn't want to go back home empty-handed. So he had to try at least one more time.
"Would it be possible for me to speak to Moody? I realize that it might not be protocol, but maybe I can get him to talk more, boasting or something and something might slip, please…" Harry asked, his tone pleading and rushed but Amelia had started shaking her head as soon as he asked. He bit the inside of his cheek and clenched his fists at her blatant refusal, his magic writhing beneath his skin at the desperation to be released.
"It's not that I don't think you could get Alastor to let something slip, Harry. It's that we don't have Alastor Moody in our cells."
Ice crept through his veins and he stared at Amelia in disbelief, stumbling out of the chair as he stood up. "Wha-what – how –? The Prophet said…"
"What we told the Prophet was accurate but also not entirely true," Amelia said slowly, her lips pursed.
"What happened, Amelia?" Harry asked coldly.
Amelia stared at Harry for a long time before sighing and nodding. "Sit down, and I'll tell you. But you can't tell anyone what I tell you today, Harry. If word got out our investigation could be severely compromised but I know you, and you of all people deserve to know."
"Amelia, I can promise you I have no intention of compromising the investigation," Harry said honestly as he retook his seat.
Amelia grunted in acknowledgment, taking off her monocle and studiously cleaning it before putting it back in place and looking at Harry again. "It is true that we had Corban Yaxley in our cells for a week. We questioned him repeatedly but as a Lord and a member of the Wizengamot, he could refuse veritaserum which he did. I know of few people who willingly take it. Yaxley told us that Dumbledore was behind the attack." She paused here, looking at Harry to see how he would take the news, it hadn't been released in the Prophet after all. Harry clenched his jaw tight and looked down at his fists resting in his lap because he wasn't supposed to know any of this and he needed to act like this was new information. He took a deep breath and then looked up at Amelia again and gave a small nod for her to continue. "And then Corban Yaxley was killed. Alastor Moody snuck in under an invisibility cloak. We put him in the cell and one of my junior Aurors admitted that Alastor and Kingsley had been rescued before reaching Azkaban."
"How did the Auror know? About the rescue I mean, weren't they all obliviated?" Harry interrupted before he could think. Amelia looked at him with hard, suspicious eyes. Her monocle all but shining under the intensity of her stare. "I mean…" Harry said trying to cover his potential slip. "If I was the one doing a rescue attempt, against the law and under the radar, I'd have made it so there were no witnesses. Obliviate and…and what not…you know?" he asked faintly. Damnit Potter, he said cursing himself, keep your bloody mouth shut! "Not that I'd ever do something like that…"
Amelia stared at him and his heart raced. He tried not to rub his sweating hands against his robes and refrained from shifting in his seat. It took more willpower than he'd like to remain completely still and keep a look of innocence on his face. Amelia pursed her lips and looked over at the fireplace but Harry didn't relax.
"The rescuers did Obliviate the rescuers however due to this particular Junior Auror…well, some might call it ingenuity and others might call it cowardice… the point is this Junior Auror played opossum immediately after the attack began and the rescuers were sloppy and he got incredibly lucky. Whether they thought one of the others had obliviated him already or that he had gotten knocked out too soon to actually identify anything, I don't know, because he couldn't actually identify anyone. Just that there was more than one person who showed up."
"Why didn't he say anything?" Harry said, running his fingers through his hair and pulling tightly. So much could have happened if the Auror had spoken up. Harry had wanted to but Marvolo had had to explain very thoroughly, multiple times, that there was no way that Harry could legally have known about the rescue and by bringing it up it would bring up a ton of other questions. Harry had also hoped that Amelia had known and was just keeping it quiet for public morale.
"This Junior Auror believed things were being handled above his level. He has been thoroughly reprimanded for this. However, he is also the reason we have any leads at all about what happened." Amelia looked bitter about the whole situation and Harry didn't feel much better.
"How did Moody even get close enough to kill Yaxley?"
"Inside help," Amelia admitted. "Nymphadora Tonks was on shift before Yaxley died, she was also the lead Auror involved in the transport to Azkaban and the one who submitted a falsified report."
"Well bring her in for questioning," Harry demanded before shifting under Amelia's cold glare again.
"Don't you think we tried that? I sent Aurors to Tonks' last known address and her parent's house and she was gone. She has been fired and a warrant out for her arrest but do you realize how hard it is to find an Auror-trained metamorphmagus who is accustomed to both muggle and magical living?"
"What about Moody? You said he was in your cells to the Prophet but you said he wasn't there."
Amelia grimaced. "We told the public the truth about the Azkaban escape. We told the truth that Corban Yaxley was killed. However, we said it was Alastor Moody but it wasn't. Instead, it was someone polyjuiced as Alastor. We didn't know this until after we dosed the perpetrator, one Dedalus Diggle, with veritaserum. Unfortunately, according to the autopsy, Diggle had been under numerous compulsion potions, which when blended with the veritaserum, his old age, and the shifting when the Polyjuice wore off, caused a fatal heart failure."
Harry stared at Amelia in disbelief. "What?"
Amelia sighed and handed him a piece of parchment and Harry took it with numb fingers. It was the official autopsy report. There were a lot of complicated terminologies that Harry didn't understand but he could see the list of potions in the man's system, confirming what Amelia had said. Clenching his teeth, he tossed the report back onto the cluttered desk. "So Diggle is dead. Yaxley is dead. And Tonks and Moody and, presumably Shacklebolt, are all on the loose and you have no actual confirmation about who attacked my family."
"We were able to get a few things out of Diggle," Amelia said with a sigh that ruined her defensive edge. "Not as much as I'd like, but he seemed to have suffered a few Obliviates before arriving. He did tell us that someone had set up the attack to frame You-Know-Who, he could not tell us who. However, he did also confirm that Yaxley was involved. He couldn't say who was involved in the breakout of Alastor or Kingsley. But given that he was polyjuiced as Alastor, it is easy to deduce that Diggle has been in contact with the original. It is also assumed that Tonks led the breakout from the inside and was involved in the subsequent murder of Yaxley due to her ties with her mentor Moody."
"Did he say why he was polyjuiced at all?"
"He was in the process before everything started to go wrong," Amelia admitted. "Something about playing on emotional ties or some rubbish."
Harry growled, elbows on knees and hands in hair, bent over in front of Amelia's desk. "You know it's Dumbledore. Just arrest him."
"We don't know it was Dumbledore," Amelia said sharply. Harry looked up and glared at her. "We don't Harry," she said a touch softer, before continuing in a hard voice. "Here is what we know with concrete testimony. Corban Yaxley, a confirmed Death Eater with obvious motivation, blamed Albus Dumbledore for the attack on Privet Drive. Nymphadora Tonks, former Auror and known protege of Alastor Moody, assisted in the breakout of her mentor and then aided in the murder of Corban Yaxley. Dedalus Diggle polyjuiced himself as Alastor Moody, an Azkaban escapee with known grudges against Death Eaters and yourself. Diggle admitted to someone trying to frame You Know Who but he couldn't tell us who. However, Diggle is an Obliviated and Compulsed victim and so his testimony won't hold up in court, Tonks and Moody are on the run, and Yaxley is dead."
"But you have reason to suspect Dumbledore, bring him in for questioning, give him veritaserum," Harry said, struggling to keep himself from yelling. He didn't want to bring the secretary in here.
"It's not that simple –"
"Yes, it is!" Harry shouted before clenching his jaw and casting a look at the office door. "You know it's him," he said in a quieter, rough voice.
"The only ties to Dumbledore are assumptions and former connections."
"That should be enough to bring him in!"
"A lesser man, maybe," Amelia admitted, she sounded incredibly tired. "But you must understand, Harry. Think clearly about this. Albus Dumbledore is Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump, his position in the Wizengamot and with the ICW protect him against involuntary veritaserum dosage. And as a Headmaster, he is privy to information regarding countless minors, which is another reason people wouldn't want him under a potion." Amelia pinched her temple – somehow managing to not dislodge her monocle in the process – and leaned her head back against her chair's headrest, her eyes closed. Harry wondered how many times Amelia had tried questioning Dumbledore in the past for things. "Not only is he safe from veritaserum but I need Wizengamot approval to bring one of them in for just basic questioning. We got around that rule with Yaxley because he actually walked into our offices and turned himself in. And we need concrete evidence to convince the Wizengamot to allow it. It was a rule put in place at the start of the Wizengamot, as a means of Lords protecting themselves. Dumbledore still has too much sway and even those who don't like him won't vote for it on circumstantial evidence alone for fear of setting a precedent that could be used against them. So Dumbledore would either need to turn himself in or we gather the concrete, indisputable evidence to convince the Wizengamot to turn on one of their own."
The idea of Dumbledore actually turning himself in for something was too ridiculous to even bother considering. "So we just need concrete evidence that it was Dumbledore. What if I said all those people are involved with the Order of the Pheonix. Vigilante groups are illegal aren't they."
"Yes, they are. And if you did say this, I would need to question how you know this information and question your own involvement in said illegal activities."
"I was never an indicted member, too young. But I know people who were involved."
"Ignoring your blatant admittance of involvement, which a vindictive Auror could take as a confession for your own arrest," Amelia said drily pinching the bridge of her nose, "you also have obvious motivation to lie."
"I'll take veritaserum."
"You really want to take that risk, Harry?" Amelia asked quietly. Harry frowned. What risk? He was already wondering why he hadn't done this earlier. Why hadn't Marvolo or one of the Inner Circle suggested this sooner? Dumbledore could have been destroyed months ago. "The risk of being left completely vulnerable to potentially unfriendly questioning with the inability to lie. I know you've taken truth oaths in the past but those don't compel you to answer every question, just to speak honestly. You take veritaserum and you will have no control. You will be forced to answer every single question and answer honestly, with no talk-arounds. It is why it is only used as a last resort. It can be deadly if you attempt to resist a question. You sure you don't have any secrets you might want to keep private?"
Harry couldn't meet Amelia's eye. He supposed he had his answer to why Marvolo had never suggested it. And bloody fuck, he knew Amelia was right. That wasn't a risk he could take, because it wouldn't just be his life on the line if he did. He actually wasn't even positive if veritaserum would work on him. He knew he was protected from Legilimency as a Necromancer to protect Death's secrets but veritaserum had been invented after the previous Necromancers had all died. He'd have to ask Death if he was immune to it as well but he also didn't want to take the risk of revealing Death's plans either if he wasn't. "Aren't there rules about questioning people under the potion?"
"Sure," Amelia replied easily. "But rules hardly stop those with an agenda, agendas that don't agree with yours. A person, not the approved questioner, could still shout out a question and you'd be forced to answer. The person would be reprimanded and punished of course but the damage would be done."
"What if I contacted my aunt and cousin? Or someone else in the neighborhood? Get them to tell me who they saw." Harry doubted any muggle had actually seen the attackers but Harry could lie and say they told him it was Dumbledore.
"It's still your obviously biased word against Dumbledore, Harry. No one else can speak to the dead, we have no way to prove that as a Necromancer you aren't influencing the dead to say what you want, and we again have no way to confirm it without putting yourself at further risk. A simple truth spell wouldn't be enough to convince others of what some dead people told you."
Harry growled and shut his eyes tight. He couldn't believe it. Was Dumbledore still going to walk away? After everything? How could one bloody old man be so slippery? How could being a member of the Wizengamot make a person all but invincible to the law? It wasn't right. He'd have to change that next. That level of immunity was just wrong. A small voice whispered that Harry was actually immune to numerous laws due to his inheritance in addition to the ones that being a Wizengamot Lord made him immune to. He told the voice to shut up though.
"What do you need to prove it was Dumbledore?"
"If it even was," Amelia said with another tired sigh. "Trust me, Harry, I'm not a fan of the Headmaster but you must think logically. Weren't you just saying the same thing at the Wizengamot the other day? No emotional involvement. Just because he has previous connections with those involved is not enough to implicate him. If that were the case, I'd be having to turn myself over for connections to Alastor. Anytime someone was arrested we'd be dragging in half the Wizarding World. We aren't a very large populace after all. If that was the case. As much as you hate him, we need more evidence before we can call him in."
"How much more evidence do you need?" Harry shouted, standing up again and pacing. "Do you need to catch him redhanded? He's behind it all, Amelia, you know he is. He needs to be brought down."
"Sit. Down. Harry. Potter," Amelia said through gritted teeth, rising and leaning over her desk. "And do not think to lecture me on how to do my job."
Swallowing, Harry once again resumed his seat, face flushed from anger and shame. He felt very much like a scolded child, sitting with his head down and shoulders hunched in the face of Amelia's harsh stare. Amelia sighed and resumed her seat as well.
"I understand you're angry, Harry. I do. And I know you want justice for your family. You've been doing an admirable job but you're still only sixteen years old and a lot has happened and you want someone to pay for it. I understand, trust me, I do. But you must let us handle this legally and through the proper channels. I promise you, Harry, I will see to it that justice is served for your family."
"Well, was your information gathering venture successful?" Marvolo asked calmly when Harry stormed into the Gathering Room. He spoke as though discussing the weather, unconcerned by the tortured bodies around him.
Harry had left Amelia's office shortly after she'd shot down the suggestion to question Dumbledore. They'd held a stilted conversation about how Harry would hold a quick interview with Rita Skeeter proclaiming how Amelia and the Auror Office had his full support and that he thought the rumors of Amelia trying to assist in any nefarious schemes were ludicrous before he just left. Harry knew he couldn't stick around or he'd completely lose his temper and possibly ruin his relationship with Amelia.
He took a quick glance around. The Inner Circle were there but they had been joined by the Death Eater Aurors and a few additionals that Harry couldn't place their use for were all present. A good number were on the floor, but they all seemed to be coherent, so they hadn't been tortured to insanity at least…so there was that. Marvolo stood before them all but he wasn't on the dais and there wasn't a table set up either. The Death Eaters scrambled to separate as Harry strode closer.
Harry's anger over Dumbledore started to rear its head again and he felt his magic fight against his control. Harry sneered instead of answering.
Marvolo raised an eyebrow but continued mildly, "I take it the friendship concept you're always going on about didn't work?"
Harry debated hexing the man's perfectly smug face but tossed the thought aside. It wasn't Marvolo he was mad at. "Bloody fucking Dumbledore!" Harry seethed and finally let his magic loose.
The Death Eaters were knocked off their feet at the onslaught. Marvolo swayed slightly at the release but didn't fall, instead, his eyes tracked Harry like a cat tracked a mouse. Gritting his teeth, Harry tested out Marvolo's method and conjured up some vases, and then blasted them each. He aimed away from the people so no one would be hit with shards. Surprisingly it did feel pretty good. But he needed a bit more…Harry conjured a few more items and set them on fire instead of blasting them and watched them crumble to ash before they hit the ground. He repeated this a few times. By the end Harry was panting but more from anger than from actual exertion.
"Care to enlighten me as to the reason for your temper tantrum?" Marvolo hissed mildly. Harry twisted and saw that Marvolo had dismissed all but the Inner Circle and was now sitting on his throne again. The Inner Circle were all kneeling again.
"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh. Marvolo watched him for a few moments before conjuring Harry's chair and then the long table, he conjured simple chairs for his Inner Circle. Harry collapsed into his chair and started spinning his wand in agitation. He still felt too restless though and stood up again seconds later and started pacing again but closer to the table, still spinning his wand.
"Take your seats." Marvolo barked out the order to the Inner Circle who scrambled to their feet and claimed their designated spots. Avery sat next to Harry's empty one alongside Parkinson, Greengrass, and Rowle. Harry paced in short circles at their backs. None of them looked thrilled at the prospect of having him walking behind them while angry and Harry didn't bother collaring his magic. "Well, Lord Potter, what did Madam Bones say?"
Harry grimaced. Recently, he'd really started hating Marvolo calling him 'Lord Potter' it just felt so impersonal and it stabbed at his chest every time. Especially after he'd told Marvolo about how he had been a Horcrux at one point and Marvolo had stared at him with such a rabid intensity that Harry's stomach had flipped and his heart had missed several beats. He remembered vividly, Marvolo reaching out with one of his icy hands to trace Harry's scar and then trailing his fingers along his face and jawline. "Mine," Marvolo had breathed so softly that the only reason Harry had heard was because of how close they stood.
Harry had known his face had to be burning red hot but Marvolo hadn't seemed to mind, instead, it seemed as though the man was trying to memorize Harry's every feature. Harry had stayed up late into the night reliving that memory of Marvolo touching his face over and over again, and his mind had conjured up numerous scenarios for other reasons why Marvolo would touch him or reasons for why Marvolo would stare at him so intently. He knew it was fanciful and wishful thinking and it was always torturous in the morning when he had to share a breakfast table with the man, but now that he knew the truth of his feelings it was as if his mind and heart were making up for the lost time when he'd been ignorant.
He glanced at the others around the table, they all watched him. Even the ones who had to twist uncomfortably in their seats to see him. It was unnerving to see most of them holding a degree of respect in their eyes.
"The man that killed Yaxley wasn't actually Moody," Harry said crisply, anger biting the heels of each word. "It was Dedalus Diggle polyjuiced as Moody. Diggle is now dead. He died due to a mixture of the veritaserum, compulsion potions that Dumbledore no doubt drugged him with, and then the polyjuice fading and his old age caused heart failure."
Harry didn't bother looking at Marvolo because he could already feel the anger radiating off of the man. Marvolo's magic seeped into the air and blended with his own and it felt so wonderful for their magic to mix that Harry lost some of the heat of his anger. Harry stared at the floor as he paced before conjuring a few more items and blasting them so finely they shattered to dust.
"Do we know this for certain? Amelia could have been lying, trying to protect her mentor," Parkinson said carefully, his gaze flicking between Harry and Marvolo.
Harry gave Parkinson a dark look and the man shrank back, shifting so that the back of the chair blocked him more. Harry enjoyed the satisfaction of that action and turned on his heel to continue his circle. "She let me read the autopsy report."
"Do they not suspect Dumbledore?" Greengrass asked, nervously licking his lips.
"Amelia might, but she says there is no concrete evidence to get the Wizengamot to allow questioning. Next on the list of things to change is making the Wizengamot Lords less invincible," Harry added with a hiss to Marvolo.
"Easily managed," Marvolo replied.
"Tonks is who snuck Diggle in to kill Yaxley and she falsified the Azkaban report," Harry continued. "It just so happened that one junior Auror was overlooked by pretending to be knocked out from the start but he can't identify anyone. Tonks was fired with an arrest warrant but they can't find her."
"A metamorphmagus is already tricky to track," Rowle said with a nod and a timid look at Marvolo, when he received no punishment for speaking he continued, "but Tonks has additional training. They won't ever find her."
"So Dumbledore has slipped away yet again…" Marvolo said, his voice breathless with rage.
The wand in Harry's hand sparked with his anger and a few Death Eaters shifted under the intensity of their combined ire. "No, there has to be a way to stop him. A route he hasn't thought of yet," Harry insisted desperately. There had to be something. Harry conjured and destroyed a few more things.
"Will you sit?" Marvolo hissed with a touch of exasperation. "There are other items to discuss. We will return to this dilemma in time."
"Why aren't you angrier?" Harry had thought that the Death Eaters would be tortured again as a result of his news.
"I expelled most of my frustrations earlier. I expected Dumbledore's machinations behind Yaxley's death, your confirmation is merely that and can invoke no further ire. Dumbledore will forever instill rage but dwelling on him won't help other matters. We have the meeting with the Veelas and Vampires in a few days, that must be the priority. Sit and assist."
Hypocrite, Harry thought bitterly. Marvolo could rage and torture and throw a tantrum all he wanted but once he was over it then everyone else had to be too? Harry shook his head. "No, I need to think on this. Do your meeting. I need to think," Harry hissed back.
He didn't get a response but soon he heard muffled murmurings. A peripheral glance showed that Marvolo had in deed begun the meeting but since he couldn't hear anything he assumed there was a silencing charm up. Harry appreciated it, he didn't want distractions. He needed to think. There had to be a way to take Dumbledore down. There had to be something that Dumbledore hadn't thought of.
"Master?" Raaja hissed.
Harry paused in his strides as he watched his golden snake slither into the double doors that he'd left open. Nagini on his tail. Nagini moved towards Marvolo's chair but Raaja moved to Harry. Harry's anger faltered at the sight of his snake. Smiling softly, he knelt down and held his hand out for Raaja to slither onto his arm. Once Raaja was securely around his arm, he stood again and resumed his pacing. His anger was tempered now though with the appearance of Raaja.
"What is wrong, Master?" Raaja asked, moving up Harry's arm to rest his head on Harry's shoulder, flicking his tongue at Harry's neck and ear.
"Dumbledore getting away with stuff again," Harry hissed viciously.
"Why not just kill him, Master?" Raaja asked.
Harry sighed. "I wish, but killing people is against the law. At least in cold blood. And while I'm technically removed from that law it would complicate a lot of things. It's better to find another way and just outright kill him as a last resort."
Raaja was silent while Harry continued to pace. "What are laws?" Raaja asked finally, his tongue tickling Harry's neck.
Harry scowled. While he appreciated Raaja's presence, the distraction only postponed Harry from figuring out a solution. He knew there was something. There was the glimmer of an idea he just couldn't reach it. "Laws are like rules but with more severe consequences."
"Can you not break the rules?"
"You're not supposed to."
"That is no fun," Raaja hissed, sounding petulant.
Harry snorted and reached a hand to stroke Raaja under the head. "Yeah, no fun," he hissed back but then stopped midstride. Fun…rules…the memory of Sirius a few months ago tickled his mind suddenly. What had Sirius said? 'Sprinkle a little Marauder Mayhem onto those blasted lemon drops before you off him'...break the rules… mayhem… marauders… lemon drops… The idea sprang into his mind and it was so clear and so obvious, why hadn't he thought of it before?
He spun on his heel to face Marvolo and the Death Eaters and jerked a little when he realized they were all staring at him. How long had they been watching him? He thought they were holding their meeting. He swallowed against the discomfort of their gazes on him and held his head high. Marvolo met his eye and raised an eyebrow, looking surprisingly amused. "You were proving too distracting – to them – for the meeting to continue effectively," Marvolo hissed. "What is it you have thought of, little lion?"
"We drug him ourselves," Harry said with a short wild laugh. "Slip veritaserum into his tea or soak his bloody lemon drops before he goes into a public place where there will be a lot of witnesses. The law says he can't take veritaserum legally without a bunch of approvals, well screw the rules. Dumbledore can flout them and twist them as he wants, why can't we?" Harry started pacing again, his mind racing. "Lemon drops would be best because he has a tendency to suck on them all the time, less suspicious, he might not notice immediately and prolong the exposure by taking more. It would have to be very public, the Wizengamot would be preferable, perfect really, but the next one isn't until March. It'd be nice to happen before then…" Harry trailed off to pace some more, staring absently at his feet.
"The consistency of the lemon drops would affect the integrity of the veritaserum," Severus said in that slow silky tone.
Harry frowned at his feet. Damnit, he'd really thought that had been the solution.
"Well then, Severus," Marvolo drawled easily, "it seems you have your newest project. You must create a version of veritaserum that will outlast outside influence and complete it soon, within the month I believe will be an acceptable deadline."
"Work with the twins," Harry added, looking up, "you don't like them but you can't deny that they are geniuses when it comes to pranks and twisting the known logic of things."
Severus sat stiffly in his seat. His face remained stoic but Harry thought he detected traces of eagerness counteracted with dread but the man simply nodded, lips pursed. Hope flared in Harry's chest once again. There was still a chance. This might be even better than actually bringing him in for proper questioning because then the witnesses would only be the few Aurors in the room. If they did this right, they could have Dumbledore questioned in a public place with reporters and Aurors and Wizengamot Lords and countless others as witnesses. Even Dumbledore couldn't evade that many witnesses.
Now they just had to plan on when and where and how to convince Dumbledore to continue taking the lemon drops after the potion started, and how to keep him in place to answer the questions without fleeing once he realized what happened. There were still holes in the plan but they had time to work out the kinks. Because now they had a plan and Dumbledore wasn't going to get away.
They had a plan. Dumbledore would not win. And he would be defeated with a simple prank.