Chapter 5 : Collapse

The sound of his shoes hitting the metal floor was Neville's only companion through the deserted corridors in the late hours of the night. The last of his tears had been shed hours ago, leaving him with nothing to distract himself from all too familiar thoughts.

As he felt his ruminations slip once again in darker territories, he reached for the nearest control panel, opening a door. Behind it was one of the many observation decks, furnished with a rug and a couple sofas on which two of his crew mates talked in hushed voices. At the soft hiss of the opening door, they turned toward him in surprise... and there it was again.

The pity in eyes that wouldn't even meet his own.

At first, full of rage, he had not wanted to hear their condolences and righteous anger. When it faded, leaving behind an agonising sorrow, they had been welcome signs of support from his friends and ship mates. Now though, dulled after days of grief, he was sick of them walking on eggshells around him and looking at him as if he was a sick dog they'll have to put down.

He gave them a curt nod before pressing the door panel again, closing it before they would say a word.

He resumed his heavy walk, letting his feet carry him once again in search of a place where he could finally be alone. A place where no one would hover around him ceaselessly to offer the same stale platitudes he'd heard a thousand times.

He wandered for a while through the identical metal corridors until, finally, he came out of his brooding in a section of the ship he did not recognise. Though it was hard to tell with the smooth metal corridors looking so similar from one another, he was pretty sure he had walked all the way to the uninhabited part of the ship. It wouldn't be strange, really, what with more than three quarters of it being repurposed as a storage area.

With the completion of the station, they had begun to empty those rooms and explore them from time to time, though they must not have reached this floor yet, as the room was filled with crates and large gas tanks. Neville closed the door behind him, advancing through the room in the dim light that came from a small window opening on the star-filled darkness of space. He went to sit on one of the crates laying in front of it, intent on losing himself in the view before he ended up lost to his own thoughts.

As he reached it however, he found it already occupied. Susan made for quite a sorry sight as she sat on the floor with her back to the crate and held her knees to her chest. Her long copper hair were in disarray and her eyes were red from tears that had long since dried on her cheeks. He might have commented on it if he didn't suspect he would have seen the same thing, had he looked in a mirror.

For a moment, he stood there and looked at her with what must have been a dumb look on his face. Unsure of whether he should say something to the only person who could understand him right now, or just leave her alone with her thoughts. She had come here to be alone, as he had, but seeing her like this...it was hard to bring himself to simply turn back and find another room.

So he spoke, with a hoarse and uncertain voice, ignoring the part of him that called out his hypocrisy as he had fled the people ready to do just that for him.

"Hey..."

"Hey." She answered softly, her gaze still fixed on the sight outside the window.

"Can I...Can I sit here?"

At her weak nod, he joined her on the floor. They remained here in silence for a long time, a thousand words on the tip of his tongue, but none daring to pass his lips. No one had seen much of her since...since they'd heard the news. Thinking back, he was ashamed that he had begun to resent her for leaving him to be the sole recipient of the crew's overbearing considerations. Though he knew she must have been as sick of condolences and pity as he was. So they sat in silence, neither of them saying a word for what seemed like hours as they watched the stars and took comfort in each other's presence.

Until finally, she talked.

"You know...I don't remember my parents. Not really anyway." She began, her voice barely a whisper. "A few flashes of her hair, of his hands...my aunt's the only one that's always been here for me. It was just us, living in that big empty house, taking care of each other for as long as I can remember. And now she's just...gone. Just like that. And I didn't...I couldn't..."

Her voice died as she shut her eyes tight, trying to hold back the tears that swelled in her eyes once more.

He knew how she felt. Despite visiting the Janus Thickey ward of St Mungo's every year since he was two, he had never truly known his parents. He still loved them, but he couldn't escape the fact that he had only ever seen the pale husks of their former selves. And since uncle Algie died two years ago, his gran had been his only real family.

"It's the little things that are the hardest, I think. To know that she won't be there, tidying up the house with a swish of her wand after I put mud everywhere coming back from the garden. That I'll never laugh as she sends another petitioner running after they tried to bribe her." She said with a little laugh. "It's weird, but I'd give anything to hear her scold me because I'm not sitting straight enough again."

That seemed to cheer her up a little as a smile creeped up her face, small as it was.

"My aunt used to threaten me that she'd sick one of her aurors on me if I didn't behave during dinner. She nearly did once, too. I'd planted some chomping cabbages in the garden and smuggled a few in the kitchen on a night where we had guests from the Wizengamot."

That got a chuckle out of them both, until the comfortable silence took back its place for a while, soon to be broken as Neville's brow furrowed and his tone became serious.

"I was furious when I learned. If they hadn't stopped me, I would have gone and...I don't know. I was ready to kill someone, anyone even remotely responsible."

For the first time, Susan tore her gaze off the window to look at him as he grasped his chest, just over his heart.

"But now? Now it's just gone and I feel...empty. I want to be angry. Or sad, or anything, really. But it's like I burned out and there's a...a hole here."

"As if they took a part of us when they took them."

Neville noded, his jaw clenched as tightly as his hand that tried to grasp something that wasn't there anymore.

His whole body relaxed in surprise as he felt a weight come upon his shoulder and saw long red hair cascade down his arm. Unsure of what to do, he stood perfectly still, never turning his head to look at her. Not even when he felt the tears roll down his arm.

"They say that the loved ones who left aren't really gone. That they'll always stay with you in memory...but I don't want memories. I want her back...I just want her back..."

He doesn't know how long they sat there in silence after that, watching the stars through a small window that overlooked a space just as empty as they felt.

"Ensign Pryden is due for a visit of the station tomorrow, and his place in the eastern dormitory has been prepared. Once settled in, he'll start helping Hannah sort through the other applications, two of which you still have to review before they can be brought in for their final interview."

There was no nice way to say it: Harry's office was a mess. Piles of unread reports that never seemed to go down sat next to clippings from the prophet, unfinished school essays and the odd reference book. Command stones and various magical knick-knacks were used as paper-weights to keep the precariously piled up parchments from collapsing.

Sitting down amongst that bureaucratic chaos, Harry dug around, trying to find the relevant reports as Ernie continued to list everything that needed his attention.

"On another note, Katie and Hermione are still waiting for you to green-lit the weapon test they want to conduct next week, now that they have found a suitable target."

Oh right. He was sure he'd seen Katie's demand somewhere in the left-most pile yesterday...

His hands stopped their search as he uncovered his most recent collection of prophet clippings, previously buried under a monograph on manticores. While the size of the extracts varied, their content was almost always the same. Weeks had passed since that first article, and the prophet continued to announce the deaths of political figures vocal about their opposition to the Ministry's new direction every few days. Most had been portrayed as accidents, but more than a few had been called labelled as murders without providing any suspects.

There was no doubt Voldemort was preparing the ministry for his conquest, taking advantage of the public's denial of his return. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that some piece of the puzzle was still missing though. The man was certainly brutal and cruel, but he remained a crafty schemer with a love for the theatrical above all else. The murders and this slow take over were only building up to the next part of his plans, which only promised an escalation of the conflict. However, without any clue as to what it was, they had no way to prepare for it.

It's not like they had sat idly while people were dying either. They'd done their best to convince as many of their family members who still worked at the ministry and other potential targets to relocate to their newly bought safe houses throughout the country.

While it would work for now, keeping those people hidden in the middle nowhere was not a viable long term solution. They needed to keep them supplied and it would become increasingly harder to convince them to stay there. They were already working on getting those who agreed out of the country, but many still felt too attached to Britain and their life here to simply up and leave.

And that was those who had listened to them. Percy had been an increasingly sore subject as of late with the Weasley.

"You know...There are talks among the crew about taking revenge. To go out and fight."

Harry put down the book as he mentaly cursed himself for letting an opening for Ernie. He'd noticed the stares, of course, and he was far from the only one to direct these silent pleas toward him these days. Harry forced his hands to start moving again, pretending to search for whatever report he was supposed to find.

"As long as they only talk, there's nothing to worry about."

That, it seems, was exactly what he shouldn't have said. He could almost feel Ernie's brows furrow behind him.

"You need to address this. Neville and Susan both lost the only family they had left. Everyone's worried theirs will be next. They've been training for this, and we have the ship on our side."

Harry stopped again, clenching his fists above the sprawled out parchments.

"So what, you want us to assault the ministry with less than thirty barely trained students? To kill everyone that gets in our way? We'd all be dead before we cleared the second floor, and they'll still be here tomorrow. The worst of them won't even be there, but hiding in their heavily warded manors out in the countryside."

In the past, Harry had been brash and impulsive, jumping into danger without so much as an afterthought for his own safety, and he nearly died each time because he didn't stop and think. Oh sure, he'd do it again in a heartbeat, as he was doing the right thing that no one else seemed inclined to do at the time, but it wasn't just him anymore. Having so many friends and comrades eager to join you in the face of certain death had a strange way of sobering you up when their lives depended on you making the right call.

And then there was the prophecy. As long as the ministry kept denying his return, Voldemort had to lie low and scheme, avoiding open attacks and giving them time to prepare and learn as much as they could about the ship. It was a great advantage, but one with a steep cost that kept increasing by the day.

"I'm on your side in this, but if you don't address it soon, one way or the other, they might try to take the matters into their own hands."

He understood that feeling all too well. Hell, he wanted nothing more than to go out there himself and actually do something in this war for once. But this ship, everything they'd learned... It changed everything. They opened Pandora's box and what they found inside was both a blessing and a responsibility he wasn't sure they were ready to bear.

Every fibre of his being was shouting that he was letting them down, that he was letting himself down by stopping them from saving all the people suffering out there. But try as they might, they weren't ready to face Death Eaters in a real fight to the death. He'd been lucky during his misadventures with Ron and Hermione, but this was a real war against dozens of fully trained killers and veterans, not the insane shade of a dead man. One careless mistake and their greatest weapons would be in the hands of an immortal maniac with delusions of grandeur.

So he did the only thing he could. He turned to face Ernie, trying his hardest to look him in the eye despite the worries and concern he could see in them.

"What do you want me to say? That they're not the first to lose their family in this stupid war, and that they certainly won't be the last?" His tone was perhaps harsher than strictly necessary, but his own words tasted like ash in his mouth, and he really didn't want to have this conversation right now. Perhaps not ever. "Tell them that if they go out to fight, they will not only die, but doom this entire galaxy in the process. We're already doing all we can and I won't risk those still alive to avenge the dead. End of discussion."

"Captain, I don't think-"

"I said we're done."

"Yes but-"

"We're done, Lieutenant. Good night."

Ernie's expression turned grim as he gave a brisk salute before turning away, leaving the room after giving him one last look.

Harry was fuming, and despite what the little voice in his mind tried to tell him, it wasn't because of Ernie. He hadn't done anything to deserve that he took out his frustration on him, only offering his advice and support. No, Harry was furious with himself. He could lie all he wanted to Ernie and the others, but he couldn't lie to himself.

So once again, he did the only thing he could. Turning toward his desk to start reviewing the pending reports, he ignored the pale complexion and the dark circles under the eyes of his reflection on the data slate in front of him.

"Captain, we're finishing our approach and settling in at a distance of six hundred twenty mil-sorry, a thousand kilometres."

Behind the vaulted windows of the bridge, the distant grey and brown colours of their target clashed against the blackness of space. The asteroïd, that had been nothing more than a barely visible dot on the horizon just a few minutes ago, now looked like a boulder the size of a hill drifting ever so slowly in the void. Distances in space were so vast it was almost ridiculous. There was still nearly the length of Great Britain separating them from their quarry, yet it seemed so close they could almost touch it.

Harry's eyes quickly scanned the display above the main console, picking up several words and numbers among the runic gibberish before he gave his orders.

"Program us to match his speed then cut power to the engines and bring out the shields to full. This is a fast one and we don't want to lose it."

"Aye, aye."

Around him, Cho and Marietta were moving command stones around on the console, executing his order with practised ease. On the sides of the room, Ernie surveyed the readings of the ship's sensors while Katie sat in front of the terminal they were about to activate for the first time, restlessly bouncing her leg in nervous anticipation. Observing their work from the corner of their eyes, Ron and Lee were engaged in the final hand of a game of Exploding Snap while Hermione reviewed her notes on her slate. However, regardless of their duties or distractions, everyone's attention was seized by Ernie's announcement.

"Engines are off, we're matching the target and shields are up. We're ready."

"Alright. Katie?"

Hearing her name seemed to break her out of her trance, as she suddenly rose from her chair to place her command stone on her console.

"Finally! Let's see what our baby can do."

"Let's not be careless, these systems haven't been used in thousands of years. We should try at a lower power charge first then go up little by little." Hermione interjected as she put aside her slate.

Lee let out a groan. "Come on, everything else works just fine as soon as we turn it on. And even if there was a problem, the ship would repair itself before we could even see it."

Though he was quite curious to see the ship in action, Harry had to admit that Hermione was right, though maybe too prudent.

"Nothing lost by being a bit cautious the first time. Power to thirty percent."

"Urgh. Fine." Katie groaned.

She turned her command stone before moving it on another part of the console where several runes and circles had lit up. Around them, a low humming started building up as power capacitors as old as mankind began to fill up. New information began to fill their displays as the sound grew in intensity and worried glances were exchanged.

"Eeerh, is that normal?" Ron asked.

"I don't know..." Ernie said as Hermione came to look over his shoulder. "But the internal sensors are not picking up anything wrong."

"Let's continue then. Bring it up to fifty percent and fire a volley."

With a more hesitant hand, Katie dragged her stone upward on the console. They heard sounds of discharge as short bursts of twin blue lights darted by behind the window, disappearing in the distance. They barely had time to admire the spectacle, however, as the humming turned into a shrill whistle and purple writings popped up all over the holographic displays.

"Ok, there's no way that's norm-"

Ron's observation was interrupted when an explosion rocked the ship and sent them to the ground. Smaller detonations followed quickly, and as Harry clung to the edges of the main console for dear life, his glasses were flung across the room. The lights began to flicker, and panicked voices emerged from their communication stone.

"Shut it off! Shut it off!" He shouted to no one in particular, only hoping he would be heard through the cacophony.

Later, he would learn that Ernie had managed to reach the weapon console and turn it off. In the moment, however, all he knew was that the chaos ceased as suddenly as it had started and everything just stood still.

For a minute, Harry believed he went deaf. The shrill still echoing in his ears and everything seemed so quiet compared to the madness they had experienced. He stood there, clinging to the console with trembling hands, his head feeling like it had split open as the deck around him was a mixture of blurry colours and flashing lights. Then, as he released the breath he hadn't even realised he was holding, the shrill began to fade, only to be replaced by moans of pain, the crackling of electricity and footsteps.

"Reparo."

A flesh colored blur was thrust in front of him, and Harry brought his hand to meet it on reflex, only to find his glasses being presented to him. He thanked the orange blur he assumed to be Ron as he put them back on and took in the sight around him.

The bridge looked like a hurricane had come through. The furniture had been thrown around, command stones and slates littered the floor and sparks were coming out of consoles and wall panels on the right side of the room.

"Everyone ok?"

Answers came in the form of groans and mangled swears as his crew got back to their feet or crashed on the nearest chairs and bean bags, more than a few of them sporting cuts and bruises.

"Good. Now can someone tell me what the hell just happened?"

It only took Lee a moment to drag himself to the main console and inspect it while holding his left arm close to his chest.

"Looks like the power conduits of the starboard cannon blew up somehow. The ship only detected that the weapon wasn't getting the power it required and kept sending more in to try and shoot. It only made it worse and the damage spread out throughout the entire conduit."

"I thought this wasn't supposed to happen. That there were too many security measures making sure everything was working."

Harry tried to not sound angry. It wouldn't solve anything to shout, but it was hard not to when his head was killing him. The fact that he was actually quite furious probably didn't help either.

"Of course not. We'll have to investigate but there's clearly something wrong with the sensors in that part of the ship or we would have detected it before it came to that. We may want to check every one on the ship to see if any other is malfunctioning."

"So it just didn't show up? That bloody conv-"

"Guys? You better come and see this."

Once the pain and anger that clouded his thoughts had faded, Harry would be thankful to Katie for stopping him from saying things he didn't really mean. At that moment, though, his head snapped in her direction, but the barb on the tip of his tongue died as he saw her standing in front of the great vaulted windows.

Slowly, and without tearing their eyes of the sight outside the ship, everyone stood up and joined her.

They had aimed to leave a crater or two on the asteroid, maybe send a projectile through it entirely if it was really powerful. It seemed like they had slightly miscalculated, however, and all they could do now was stand and watch as the myriad of stone fragments that once composed the enormous asteroid were flung into space, like a glorious firework of rocks and dust.

It was Ernie who managed to gather the eloquence to describe what they were all feeling in that moment.

"Well shit."

The light of a great chandelier bathed the lavishly decorated office in which Cornelius Fudge sat comfortably with a warm glow. The old ornate clock sitting above the fireplace struck the eleventh hour of Halloween's night as he read through another congratulatory letter of one of his many friends, colleagues and donors with a fond smile.

It had become customary for him to page through them at the end of this day each year, to remember everything he had accomplished and how far they had come since the war ended. It warmed his heart to read the words of so many good people dedicated to the good of this country, no matter what trouble some agitators tried to stir.

A polite knock on the door interrupted his yearly ritual, however, and his brow furrowed as he tore his eyes from the letters. Calynda was out partying until dawn as usual and he was alone in the house.

"Who could-"

The door opened without waiting for an invitation, revealing the regal figure of Lucius Malfoy, his robes billowing behind him.

"Good evening, Cornelius."

It took a moment for Fudge to regain his composure as his unexpected visitor sat down across from him as if he was simply settling in to drink a cuppa in his own house.

"L-Lucius? What are you doing here so late? Did Nobby let you in?"

"I hope you can forgive my intrusion at such a late hour, but it was imperative that I saw you right away. I'm afraid that I have come bearing tragic news." Lucius said, completely ignoring his unwitting host's questions.

"Surely we can talk about whatever this is tomorrow?"

"Unfortunately, this matter cannot wait."

Fudge sat back into his chair with a sight. Being the Minister has its perks, but it also meant he was the one person distressed people came to in the middle of the night to put down the fires of their idiocy. At least he might be able to get a nice end of the year "bonus" if Lucius needed his help for something...

"Very well, I'll have Nobby get us a bottle."

"That won't be necessary, Cornelius. We won't have the time to enjoy your collection tonight."

Lucius refusing a free glass of fine wine? That was a first. He must really be desperate for his help...which bolstered his hopes for a consequent donation.

"What's this about then? You know I'm always ready to help a good friend." Fudge said as he put on his best smile.

The one Lucius offered him in return was as charming as ever, but the look in his eyes gave it a more... sinister tone. One of those favour then.

"I regret to inform you that Sirius Black and an associate of his have been found to be behind the numerous deaths we have seen recently. They hid like rats while plotting their revenge all this time and have come out to finish the work of their master."

All pretence of joviality left Fudge at the mention of the murderer.

"W-What ? Black? Didn't he flee the country years ago?"

"We all know how devious and deceitful he is. I fear his bloody quest for vengeance will bring him to strike against those responsible for his imprisonment."

"B-But...That's...This can't possibly be true! I'm the one who brought him in. I testified against that monster!"

Fudge's shaking hands crisped around his chair's intricate armrests as his fearful eyes were fixed on Malfoy's, as if to discern some sort of answer in the man's expression. Lucius remained perfectly calm, however, his smile never fading as he played with the head of his cane and continued his explanation as if he was talking about the outcome of the latest quidditch match.

"It truly is a regretful turn of event that we did not find this out before the aurors were called to your residence, my friend. Indeed, while his accomplice was killed as she delayed the aurors outside of your house, they were too late to save you. When they entered, they found you dead and Black fleeing on a broom with several bottles from your cellar. A shame, really."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why, of your death of course. You have been a useful acquaintance, and I admit that I will miss our little chats. However we have reached a point where your death is now more useful that your incompetence."

All colours drained from Fudge's face as he finally realised what was happening. His mind reeled at the inconceivable betrayal before his eyes darted to his wand, sitting on the desk in front of him. It could have been in the other side of the country for all the good it did him.

His mouth opened and closed several times as he tried and failed to express his shock at the impossibility of the situation. This couldn't be happening. He was the Minister of Great Britain for Merlin's sake. This was just a sick joke of Calynda to punish him for something, right? There was no way...

"Good bye, Cornelius."

A flash of sickly green light filled the office, illuminating the well tended garden and the mangled corpse of Hestia Jones like lightning in a storm before the darkness of the night reclaimed its place once more.

The atrium was abuzz with half-whispered talks as it seemed every single Ministry employee waited uneasily in the crowd amassed before the grand podium. It had appeared overnight at the feet of the fountain and its golden statues, and all but the most recent hires knew that it was only used for the most important announcements. Rumpus of the unthinkable had been spread around all morning, and speculations were going wild as everyone seemed to both know nothing and everything of what had happened during the night. The exceptional assembly had been called shortly after the start of the day and they had already been waiting for far too long when the great doors opened.

A large procession of elderly witches and wizards in plum robes, led by none other than Lucius Malfoy himself, walked in with purpose and spread out in front of the fountain as the man took place on the podium. His grey eyes surveyed the multitude in front of him as the hubbub died out, letting a tense anticipation fill the air. A quick tap of his elm wand on the rune inscribed on the podium gave it a soft silver glow and the sound of his solemn voice was carried throughout the atrium for all to hear.

"My friends. I am sure that by now, all of you heard of the disaster that struck our country at the crepuscule of our most cherished day of celebration. Our dear Minister was cowardly assassinated by those who wish for the dark days of the war to begin anew."

Animated whispers and gasps shook the crowd as Lucius marked a pause, waiting for them to abate.

"Cornelius Fudge was both a great man and a dear friend who tirelessly dedicated himself to healing our country after the war, and he will be dearly missed. However, his trust in the better nature of man, while admirable, became his undoing. He let himself grow complacent in his efforts to bring back our normal way of life, and greedy individuals took their chance to sow the seeds of corruption and depravity in our society. Today, those seeds have sprouted and their thorny vines have taken root into the very heart of our nation. Beloved heroes fell from grace and are grasping for whatever power they can while seditious elements try to divide us and took our beloved minister from us. But I tell you my dear compatriots: No more!"

"In an emergency session, the Wizengamot has chosen to place their trust and the fate of this country in my hands. They know that I am intimately familiar with the horrors that plagued our past, and that I shall do my utmost to prevent them from happening again. As Minister, I shall dedicate my administration to purging the Ministry from its corruption and to bring back proper morale and values into our government. We shall bring a swift and decisive end to those who seek to destabilise our society and our hard-earned peace!"

Applause rippled through the audience at his promise. Few of the assembled employees truly understood the implications it brought, and fewer still had the moral decency or goodness of heart to be terrified and disgusted of what they now knew the future would bring.

"To prove my dedication to the responsibilities that have been placed upon me, I have already acted my first ministerial order, which has already been approved by the Wizengamot. With it, I aim to begin to right the wrongs of the previous administrations and heal our country's very soul. I have issued a pardon to the victims of the overzealous war-time tribunals, when their only crime was to fall prey to the foulest of magics and coercions."

The acclamations were more subdued this time, but nonetheless numerous. The menacing glares of the new aurors in sombre garb guarding the crowd quickly motivated the sceptics to show their appreciation of the motion. This lack of enthusiasm did nothing to dampen Malfoy's excellent mood, however, as he continued his speech, undeterred and dignified as ever.

"I know this decision might raise some concerns to some of you, but rest assured, my friends: I only have the best of interests for every true witch and wizard of this country."