I can see a light is still on in Dumbledore's office when I finally return from the Ministry and tiredly decide to head up to the Castle.
The Department of Mysteries has been left a total mess, the insipid fountain in the main courtyard has been destroyed, and Fudge saw proof with his own eyes that Voldemort is out there.
Fudge and others began to try to pin this fiasco on me, questioning me in turn about what I knew about Harry Potter's movements and motivation this night and why wasn't he stopped from leaving the grounds with a group of his friends. What my movements have been or what he thought they should have been to be in a position to prevent the debacle this evening.
In the middle of his interrogation he called my superiors; the heads of Magical Law Enforcement as well the Department of Mysteries. Finally, after 2 hours of hard questioning, going around in circles, and going over all the what if's, should's, and might have been's, I finally lost control of my temper and started ranting at the lot of them. Beginning with speaking through clenched teeth and slowly starting to yell at them. To all hells with professional curtsey, and this job.
"Sirs, what would you have had me do? You have my written and expressed concerns from the beginning of the year that having two agents on essentially the same assignment would cause a conflict. I came here several times throughout the year because my movements, investigation, and abilities were being sharply curtailed by Madame Dolorus Umbridge; even more so that I had to come here in person to maintain the secrecy of my mission."
"She had some of the very students I was supposed to be keeping an eye on watching and reading ALL posts in or out of the castle and watching the floo network- including mine." I felt like my temperature was rising, that I was overheating. I stand up and start pacing on the podium stand they sat me on."
"She let the power you gave her, you, Head Minister Cornealius Fudge; go to her head. She used a blood-ink quill for lines in detention- there are more then a few students that will have those lines PERMANENTLY etched into their skin unless other magical means are taken to remove them. I can only hope the ministry will provide that care at no cost to the students' families."
"She has used Veritiserum throughout the year on both students and faculty. She attacked Professor Minerva McGonnagal, landing her in Mungo's. And you have my written complaints logged here about these and other excesses." I heard one of the banner poles behind me break like the sound of a bone and clatter to the floor. I felt overcharged and was beyond caring.
"I have witnessed accounts that she cast the Cruciatious Curse, an UNFORGIVABLE curse, that should have her handed over to Azkaban, on Harry Potter before he arrived here last night. That her prevention of communication kept Mr. Potter from being able to conclusively confirm or deny that someone he cared for was in danger here at the ministry. She took his broom; denied him quidditch- paperwork for a lifetime ban on him is still in progress with the games and sports division. With that ban on him, Sirs, he was no longer my student and taken from under my observation and placed DIRECTLY under hers."
Damb her. Another banner pole snapped and fell to the floor.
"Head Minister, You witnessed yourself that Bartimus Crouch Jr. had impersonated Alester Moody before you demented him. That's two years in a row that the students have been subjected to unforgivable curses; by teachers who were supposed to be trusted authority figures. Do you realize that the only decent instruction they've had in the last 5 years in Defense Against the Dark Arts, were a professor possessed by Voldemort during the last year of his tenure, a Werewolf, and by Harry Potter in a group club that defied a ministry educational decree? And the Ministry wants to dictate ANYTHING over there? Where do you get the idea that you can do better then Dumbledore when choosing faculty! Why have I been there for these past 15 years if you're going to tie my hands behind my back and prevent me from doing the very job you placed me there to do when you need me to do it the most?" I pause long enough to catch my breath. And the final banner fell to the ground with a splintering crash.
"Miss Finnigan, are you quite finished?" This from the head of the department of Mysteries, my department head all these years.
"Only to say, you are not going to put this fiasco on my head when the true blame lies on many, including the Head Ministers and that so called High Inquisitor." Taking a deep breath I glanced back at the wall hangings. I took my wand briefly and sarcastically cast reparo. I sit down in the chair provided and fold my hands, which I discover are still shaking.
My department-head merely looks bemused, Magical Law Enforcement looks thoughtful, and Fudge looked positively outraged. He places his hands on the table and stands up slowly. Apparently as angry as I am.
"Madame Finnigan I expect your resignation on my desk in the morning and your cubicle cleaned out tonight under supervision."
"Fine." I flicked my wand in his direction and apparated a sealed scroll that I'd already prepared for this in front of him, teleported from my desk.
"Lori, don't be hasty. Cornealius, sit down. Accio scroll. Obviously everyone is quite worked up about this. We need to think and act about these things rationally." The scroll flew to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement's hands. He broke the seal and read my formal resignation with a low whistle.
"She's not bluffing." He handed the scroll to my Department head. I continue to glare defiantly. The scroll also affirms my silence in all Ministry dealings and investigations for my entire career. I remain silent; Fudge sits down almost looking defeated.
"He's really back, isn't he." None of us answer. I have a feeling mine isn't the only temper close to the breaking point in this regard. I finally break the silence.
"Minister, you have only two choices. Resign your position, or begin to work with Dumbledore on the plans that he's been trying to put into motion. Either way, come to grips with the fact that he doesn't want your job, and never has or he'd have had it before now. In simple terms- help, or get out of the way of those who are working to preserve the future."
"Professor? Are you still up?"
"Come in, Lori." The door opens on a disaster scene similar to the one I just left. His office was in shambles. The beautiful silver instruments were scattered, books everywhere, the contents of his desk were on the floor. The paintings for a change were not pretending to be asleep.
"By the light! Professor, what happened?" One of the paintings answered.
"Young Harry Potter lost his temper. Didn't know he had that much energy left in him after this nights going's on."
"Potter did all this?" I didn't know whether to be impressed or horrified. "Are you all right, Professor?"
"I finally told him the truth. I am unharmed. And what has you awake at this late hour. How did the inquiry go?"
"Professor," I said bending down and picking up a piece of broken something and trying to place it carefully on his desk, "this might not be the best time to discuss these things."
"Sometimes, there's no time like the present."
"All right then. Unless you would deeply prefer otherwise for my work in the Order, I plan to retire from ministry work." Dumbledore motioned for me to sit down. I gratefully took one of the old chairs.
"Mr. Potter is not the only one who lost a temper tonight- and even after all these years I still have no control over my wyrd when my temper is up. Head minister Fudge attempted to order my registration but was overturned by the other department heads after I handed it to him. After this farce of a year, and what they allowed to happen, I'm not sure I can support this ministry in good faith. If you'd allow, I'd like to continue teaching and working here."
"Are you sure this is what you want?"
"No, Albus, I'm not. And I'm sure this is something I'm going to need to sleep on, possibly even see what action Fudge takes after the evening's events. But I just still feel so very angry. I was placed here years ago to give an early waning to the ministry and protect the students if a year like this one were to happen."
"And this year when they needed to listen, they turned a deaf ear and ignored what they didn't want to hear. When I needed to act, they tied my hands- and worse, they tied yours. And now we have one boy on the edge of a breakdown, and students and Order members in the infirmary. And Sirius..." I look away, my hands shaking again. "Professor, I just don't feel that we won anything this night." I look around his office as a little puff of smoke escaped from a pile of silver on the floor.
"You know something, Lori?" I looked directly at him. "You're right. And this mess can wait until daylight. There's somewhere else we need to be right now." He holds his hands out to me. I take one and he leads me to the fireplace. He throws a handful of floo powder into the ever-present fire.
"12 Grummings Place." Green flames engulf us. We step out into the kitchen where it seems the entire order has gathered around Lupin. Molly is fussing around the kitchen, but the scene is missing something without Tonks knocking something down every three minutes. Dumbledore conjures up two more chairs. Bill Weasley brings two cups of tea over for us as we sit down. The doorbell rang, sending Sirius's mom shreaking again. The look in Lupin's eyes would have set wet wood to a brisk fire.
"Won't people ever learn not to ring that blasted bell?" Molly said to no one in particulur.
I followed Lupin into the hallway to let Mrs. Figg who was helping Minerva McGonnagal in, followed by Hagrid. The painting shrieked all the louder about half-breed scum.
"I. Have. Had. Enough. Mrs. Black." Lupin advanced on the painting as he had done many times in the past. But instead of reaching for the curtains, he reached for his wand.
"INCENDERO!!!" He screamed, with all the pain and anguish he must be feeling. Hearing the hate spew forth out of that woman's mouth must have been too much. The painting burst into hot flames too fully and quickly for her to even scream. Lupin slumped forward with the expenditure of that much energy. I cast finete incontata to prevent the flames from spreading to the curtains or tinder-dry wallpaper. Lupin looked up at the wall, at Hagrid, then at me. The look on his face was indescribable.
"I think I killed her." He fell onto the steps and started laughing, running his hands threw his hair. Hagrid and I had seen him like this in the early years after James' death. Hagrid moved to put a giant arm around him. The laughter quickly turned to sobbing hysterics. Lupin, beating a fist into Hagrid. I moved in on the other side, as I often had to offer what comfort a stranger could. Eventually, as we knew it would- exhaustion claimed him, and Hagrid carried him to the room Lupin had claimed here at the Manor.
Lupin the last Marauder.
I just sat staring at the scorched painting feeling completely numb for the first time all night. I heard a quiet footstep approaching the stairs, and begin to climb. Dumbledore passed me on his way to Lupin's room. Our eyes met briefly. I went to the drawing room with the tapestry rather then go back to the kitchen.
I paced, trying to run out some of the energy that was coursing through me again. I had images running through my head like a torrent of rain; the look on Lupin's face during the intragation all those years ago, falling down, having seizures. The contrast of working with him on the NEWT obstacle course when he was teaching at Hogwarts, his face alight with ideas, talking with him and Sirius these past two years- seeing the fierce joy both shared at having their pack-brother back. Trying, too late, to pick up the aftermath of first Hogwarts, then the Ministry of Magic. Too late to help, unable to prevent how the evening unfolded.
I was too late. I wanted to scream.
"Get in here before you wear another hole in what's left of that carpet!" Moody's voice came in through the halls. Either his sharp hearing or that dammed eye of his caught my pacing. I returned to the kitchen. Saw that Snape and Aurther Weasley had arrived. Molly pressed another cup for tea on me. Fletcher passed a small flask over to me, taking the stopper off I took a delicate sniff and handed it back to him, firewhisky not being something I cared for. To my surprise, McGonnagal handed over a round bottle.
"Irish Cream and Scot's brandy. The best of both the Isles." I smile a little as I pour a shot into the cup and hand the bottle back to her with a look of thanks. Dumbledore returned to the kitchen with Hagrid and Lupin.
But to everyone's surprise, it was Snape who raised his glass and said the words of the order's traditional toast, given at moments like these, "To Sirius. May he join the ashes of our fallen comrades, that we may we rise again the stronger from having known his friendship."
"To Sirius."
We all raised our glasses and toasted our fallen friend, and comrade.