Chapter 17: Suspects and Spies

"There were no casualties!" Harry protested. He was rather surprised to find himself on the defensive, but Crocker seemed genuinely angry.

"That's not the issue! I sent those people here to protect the castle from Voldemort's supporters and you're not letting them do their job!"

"And who do you expect to protect your people from Voldemort?" Harry retorted.

"They can defend themselves!"

"Not against the likes of those Death Eaters, they can't," Harry argued. "They're defenseless."

"And where were you when all this was going on?"

At this point Harry hesitated. He was rather ashamed to admit that he had hidden the entire time while others did his dirty work-regardless of the circumstances of the hiding. "I was protecting two students that had wandered out of their dorms," Harry supplies lamely. The truth, of course, is that the students did most of the defending themselves.

"Two students over the entire school?" Crocker asked in disbelief.

"I wasn't in any condition to do any fighting," Harry said, annoyed. "I'm still not. I put up another bloody ward and it took my strength. If I had fought I would have been killed instantly."

Instead of fuming as Harry had expected, Crocker seemed to calm down. He leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "So Voldemort timed his attack to the exact moment you would be at your weakest."

Harry said nothing.

"Do you perhaps think that he was receiving information from inside the school?"

Harry nodded. "I suspect the portraits in the headmaster's office. Not the one the Headmistress is using now, but the old one. They're the only ones who knew I was going."

"Portraits?" Crocker asked. "Talking portraits?"

Harry nodded. "They have the ability to move between their portraits. If there is perhaps another portrait of the same person, the same portrait can visit both frames. If Voldemort has one in his possession, that may be how he's communicating."

"And there is only one person for both frames?" Crocker pressed. "So the other frame would be empty?"

Harry nodded, small lights beginning to click on in his mind.

"I think there's something you need to see," Crocker said.

* * *

Harry found himself in the Department of Mysteries. He was surprised that time had had no affect on the name, though it had on the hallway. Crocker clicked on the lights as soon as they entered the corridor. Red carpet was on the floors and the walls were painted white with portraits and paintings hung in different places. None were moving.

Crocket opened that too familiar door and led Harry into the circular room.

"Now don't be alarmed," Crocker began.

"When the walls start spinning," Harry finished for him. "I suppose time doesn't change everything."

"Actually," Crocker admitted. "It's a plate on a spinning disk. The magic wore off centuries ago and no one was sure how to replace it. See? There they go."

Apparently, however, the spinning had no affect on Crocker's sense of direction. He opened a door. Harry did not recognize it at all. It seemed to be filled with every single useless knick knack he had ever seen, and quite a few he hadn't. A few broomsticks littered the room as well as a trunk that looked suspiciously like it contained Quidditch balls. A bookcase stood against the wall filled with old spell books and, sitting on top of it, was what looked like a silvery invisibility cloak. Tables lined the room, filled with all kinds of odd items. In one corner was a large grandfather clock, not unlike the one the Weasleys' had owned all those years ago.

Crocker looked where he ad staring and nodded. "There are only two of those left in existence. The people on the hands are employees. They're trying to uncover how it works."

"Did they think to try magic?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Crocker shrugged. "I may be Minister, but not even I know everything that goes on down here. The other is owned by a wizarding family. They have refused to give it up, and we certainly can't force them." Crocker sighed. "Old family heirloom, you understand. But here' s what we came here for."

Harry pulled his eyes from the clock and turned to see a blank picture frame hanging on the wall. "Originally we thought it was simply a frame," Crocker said.

"But it kept making noises," Harry said, nodding. "There used to be one just like it in my godfather's house. "Whose picture is this?" he asked the frame.

"Eh?" said a voice. Harry's eyes widened slightly. None other than Phineas Nigellus walked into the frame. "Harry? What are you doing at the Ministry of Magic?"

"I could ask you the same question," Harry said pointedly.

"I'm here because that stupid house fell to the ground!" Phineas said, annoyed. "That was a long time ago, of course. You can imagine the surprise of those Muggles when a ruined house suddenly appeared where there wasn't one. Fortunately, my frame was strongly magical enough to resist and, when they found it, they brought it here."

Harry frowned. "Why didn't you tell me that your other frame was still around?"

Phineas frowned at Harry's accusatory tone. "Very few, if any people ever come into this room of old and forgotten junk. I didn't think that it was worth mentioning."

"What if I wanted to use this frame and put it somewhere else so that I could have you watch somewhere of importance?"

Phineas snorted. "That would be most unwise. If anyone other than yourself saw my frame and heard it make random noises, they would be terrified out of their mind and avoid the place, if not burn my portrait."

Harry frowned at the logic behind this, but that didn't ease his suspicion. "There's a spy at Hogwarts," he said, getting to the point. "I was thinking that perhaps it was a portrait since no one else knew that I planned to strengthen the castle."

"Obviously," Phineas said, unimpressed. "And I suppose now you think it's me because you found my portrait. Well, I have news for you. No one comes into this room unless they have to and even if they did, I would most probably not notice, or not care if they did. Everything that's happening is at Hogwarts. Why should I desire to come to such an empty and deserted room such as you have here?"

Harry scowled. "I'm trying to discover the spy, Phineas. Right now you're my only lead and I'm not going to give it up for a few choice words. If you have been giving information to Voldemort-"

"-which I haven't-" Phineas cut in sharply.

"-then I would appreciate it if you simply told me because you know that I'll figure it out in the end." Harry finished, pretending as though Phineas had never spoken.

"Harry," Phineas said calmly. "I can't honestly claim to know that I know how Slytherins act in this time, but I do know that every Slytherin in my time acted for self preservation before any other. Why would I fight for Voldemort if I knew that he was going to lose?"

"As touching as your faith in me is," Harry replied, just as calmly. "I also know Slytherins and I know that they lie quite easily. If you honestly expect-"

"Now wait just a minute!" Crocker said suddenly. "I don't know what house you're both talking about, but Slytherins aren't what you're making them out to be! Sure, we're ambitious, but that doesn't mean we have automatic ease in lying or fight for self preservation!"

Harry turned to him, trying to understand what he was saying. "You mean, you're a Slytherin?"

"I am," Crocker said, drawing himself up to his full height. "And I am proud to be so."

Harry forced himself to look at this from a different angle. The inter- house relations were much better in this time than in his own. It was probably no less to be in Slytherin than it was to be in Gryffindor.

"That's good," Harry said. "That means things have changed since I have left, thought that is nothing new. It is rare indeed that I find something that has changed for the better. I applaud your loyalty, Mr. Crocker. Indeed, had I been in your position, yours would have outshone my own. Still, that does not stop this particular Slytherin from being who he is." Harry turned back to the frame. "Now, Phineas-"

"What do you expect me to say?" Phineas asked. "That I'm guilty? I doubt very much that if I said that, you would believe me either. You will hear nothing here today that can assure you of my loyalty for you will not believe it, whatever it is. But know this. I consider you to be Headmaster above that other woman."

Harry nodded, seeing the truth behind his words as well as the significance in his last sentence. As a portrait, Phineas was bound to serve the current Headmaster or Headmistress as a house elf is bound to serve its master. There was no way that he could betray them.

Harry sighed and turned to Crocker. "I want this portrait brought to my office. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Crocker said, obviously trying to appear as though he had not just heard himself be called a liar. "You may bring it back now if you like. Goodness knows you're the only one who knows how to use it."

"I wish it were true," Harry said. "But it isn't. Someone else knows how to use the portraits because someone else was sending information to Voldemort through one of them. Perhaps now we have put a stop to it."

Phineas snorted derisively from his frame. "I would keep looking if I were you."

Harry said nothing. He reached up and pulled the frame down off the wall. "I will wait for you at the school," Phineas promised before disappearing from his frame.

Harry made to leave before something small and golden caught his eye. Thoughtfully, he bent down and picked it up, portrait under one arm, and put the small top in his pocket.

"It's disabled," Crocker said distastefully, seeing what Harry had picked up. I can fix it for you, but it kept spinning all the time and the workers down here became annoyed for they did not know why it spun. They asked me about it and I let them disable it."

Harry nodded but did not remove it. "Perhaps I can repair it."

"I've no doubt," Crocker said, nodding.

Harry tucked the frame more securely under his arm and nodded for Crocker to precede him out. Crocker opened the door for him and they exited, both in silence.

"We will have to set up a Flu network Harry muttered as they exited the Ministry and found themselves on a Muggle street. "Everyone used Flu Powder in my day."

The Minister seemed to ignore him but Harry could see from the slight smile on his face that he thought Harry sounded like a very old man which, Harry admitted, he was indeed.

Harry suggested they Apparate and the Minister was quick to brag to Harry that he was one of the few people who could Apparate nowadays so they reached the area surrounding Hogwarts faster than Harry expected, though he would never cease to be amazed at what limited knowledge these present day wizards seemed to possess on the arcane arts. They apparently had decided to remember some things and forget others. Apparently Apparating died hard.

Harry left the Minister in the Great Hall, not liking the idea of inviting him to the Headmaster's office. He was only halfway there when he was confronted by none other than Headmistress Chiden herself. Harry groaned inwardly but showed nothing of it on his outside features.

"Is there something you need?"

"I need some answers if that's okay with you," Chiden snapped. "Like for you to explain to me about that little stunt you pulled earlier."

"I brought the portraits to life," Harry said, walking past her to continue his delayed trip to his room. "Magical wasn't it?"

"It was nothing of the sort!" Chiden snapped. "You swore to protect this school! You left it wide open for attack when you passed out!"

"It was either fight until I die and then leave the rest of you to die in my wake, or to have someone else fight a single battle and have everyone live," Harry said coldly, not looking at her as she hurried to keep up. The old crone. "Apparently you did not see what we were up against."

"I was not invited to join," Chiden said with no hint of regret. "Unlike those reckless fools, I do not wish to embrace the old ways that you keep preaching about. Everything was working fine before you came along."

"Before Voldemort came along, you mean," Harry said calmly, not slowing an inch. "It's his fault that I'm back, remember? If you wish to direct your anger toward someone, there's your target. Not me. I'm just trying to stop him destroying the world. Again."

Chiden seemed to be very angry. "And where have you been sense then? Did you not care what became of those you sent into battle?"

"Dumbledore told me there were not casualties," Harry said. "And I had to find the spy that started the whole mess."

"And did you?"

"I might have."

"I'm not the spy," Phineas's voice said, drifting from the portrait weirdly.

Chiden jumped back and Harry heard Phineas chuckle from the other end.

"What is that thing?" Chiden asked, making up the ground she had lost in her surprise.

"It's a portrait," Harry said. "Same one that helped defend your castle from Death Eaters."

"I did not go traipsing around as a human," Phineas insisted sounding distinctly annoyed. "I'm retired, thank you very much, and very proud and pleased to be so."

"I'll talk to you later, Nigellus," Harry promised the talking frame. "So you might want to take time now to have your peace and quiet."

No sound came from the portrait.

"You have some questions to answer," Chiden said, as though Harry did not already know this.

"Such as...?" Harry prompted.

"Such as what happened to my teachers when those-those things took them over!"

"Nothing," Harry said simply. "They temporarily lost control of their bodily functions, though they still saw everything they were doing. They helped win the first fight for Hogwarts."

"The first?"

"Well certainly there will be others now Voldemort knows I will use it for a stronghold."

"This is a school!" Chiden practically yelled. "Not a stronghold! There are innocent people here! Innocent children!"

"And those children make this castle a weakness that Voldemort could easily exploit given the opportunity," Harry said, stopping suddenly to look at her. "Would you rather have me here to protect it, knowing that I will be ready to defend it, given any circumstance, or would you rather have Ministry employees looking after it, knowing they won't be ready in any circumstance?"

Chiden looked even angrier at this, most likely because she knew that she had no choice in the matter. "Just remember that this is my school!" She snapped. "And I don't intend for you to take full control of it!"

"Believe me, Headmistress," Harry said, stressing the title only slightly. "With the school in this condition, you can keep it."

Chiden glared angrily at him before stomping off. Harry was quite glad for he had reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office and the last thing he needed was for Chiden to know the password and for the crazy woman to come in and murder him in his sleep.

Harry gave the password and stepped onto the moving staircase that was already moving faster, though not at all at its previous rate.

When he got to the office, he sighed wearily and, leaning the portrait against his desk, sat down heavily in the chair. He took the sneakascope out of his pocket and sat it on the desk, looking at it for a second before pulling out his wand and tapping it. Instantly it repaired itself, sitting on its point instead of on its side. It did not move. Harry placed it to the side and sat looking at it for a moment before turning to the portraits which were watching him.

"I have reason to believe Phineas Nigellus in the spy. Is there any here that can honestly tell me so, or otherwise?"

None said anything, though everyone was looking warily at the others, especially Phineas.

"You see?" Phineas said. "I have sat here as bored as the rest of them."

Harry sighed again and sat back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair. It was a habit that served no purpose but to stand his hairs up on end and make his hair look messier, but at times he didn't care. Like now for instance.

He glanced up at the big clock on the wall, suddenly feeling rather tired and hungry. In all honestly he had not gotten much sleep the previous night and he had barely even begun to recover from the first attack. He would have to make a potion. He hated making potions...

He was hungry as well, but he didn't really want to go down and face Chiden or the Minster again so he decided that it was better to go hungry.

"I think that I will lie down," Harry said to the portraits before standing up and heading for the Headmaster's room.

"And don't come back until you're good and rested," said a witch fondly. Normally Harry would have scowled and told her that he wasn't really 16, but he just didn't have the energy. The day had been far too trying. He just nodded wearily. Distantly he noticed that Dumbledore was back, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had learned what he had wanted to know from Dumbledore anyway.

And he was too tired to care.

He closed the door behind him and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.