An emergency Wizengamot meeting had been called. Greengrass had owled Harry with the news, taking the initiative rather than asking. Harry didn't mind at all, since he definitely hadn't wanted to phone it in. First, he would visit the AD and get briefed on the situation as a Lord of the Wizengamot. He'd gotten scraps of news on Sunday from Mathilda who had come in, and precious little else from the press, but Lawrence Bigby who was in line for Captaincy had taken lead of the investigation. Harry couldn't help but think Mathilda was being punished for being associated with him in this.

But she didn't mind it, appraising him of the situation as it developed. Although for all the know-how and collective experience of the Auror Department, there were scant developments to be had. It seemed they would get over this hump with not much resistance. He was told to apparate to the Department's private entrance, since the main one was flooded with reporters. The plum coloured robes still made him feel like an idiot for wearing them, and as he walked by his esteemed colleagues didn't hold back commenting on it.

He could see Mathilda's golden curls among the group waiting to get into the main briefing room. Her eyes smiled spotting him and she smugly walked up.

"Looking quite fetching there, Milord," she said with a mock curtsy.

"I debated bringing a change of clothes to wear before I went downstairs, but that would probably be just as embarrassing."

"You know what's going to be discussed at the emergency meeting?" she whispered.

"Probably what's going to happen with the Azkaban Guard now they're out of a place to work. Probably what new place is going to be built instead. I've got a few ideas, and none involve a rock in the middle of the ocean. It never was that secure anyway."

"They're all in there by the way," she said with a nod to the briefing room. "Robards, Fuller, Kingsley and his two lapdogs."

"It'll be lively then."

The rest of the Aurors greeted him, some from a distance probably due to his hideous robes. A few minutes later, Robards opened the door and nodded towards Harry. "The briefing will commence shortly, Lord Potter."

They went inside. Harry shook hands with Kingsley and Fuller and went over to Bigby to do the same. He looked worried.

"Robards give you a lashing?" Harry asked.

He chuckled. "Let's just say this one doesn't do much for me getting that golden badge."

"What, one unsolved is going to ruin your career? Everyone's files are littered with them."

"Yeah, but this time it feels like I'm being dropped in a shark tank."

Harry looked back to Fuller who indeed was looking at Bigby like he was a fat lamb ready to sacrifice to the masses. "Don't worry," he said, "I'll make sure this doesn't come back to bite you in the arse."

Bigby looked unconvinced, but nodded in thanks. Harry took place in the centre of the room. He had been through enough of these briefings that he knew the pace of things. The only difference was this time they were briefing someone who was intimately familiar with Auror work. Tim Brenton was doing what he could to assist Bigby, organising rolls of parchment around a table that they no doubt had painstakingly taken the time to compile over the past two days. The inefficiency of the whole process made Harry nauseous. Here they were parading around to tell Harry things he probably already knew.

"Auror Bigby, who is leading this investigation, will brief us on the state of things," Robards said with an outstretched hand.

Bigby cleared his throat. "On Sunday at 11:30 AM, we were called to the scene of Azkaban. The prison was gone, and there was a hundred and twenty foot crater where the fortress stood. We looked for survivors and found the bodies of thirteen guards in the sea due east." Brenton came forward with a piece of parchment and Bigby continued. "They all died from severe trauma from spell damage, save for two out of the thirteen plus three others who died of laceration wounds. The anatomist and healer reports show small pieces of copper and zinc alloy inside those laceration wounds. The deaths occurred from various means, too varied it seems for it to be done by a single perpetrator. Our guess at the moment is that the prison was attacked by at least six people."

Harry proudly listened to how accurate Bigby's report was. There really was no other group of people in Britain that could do a job as thorough as the Auror Department.

"Out of the thirty-five guards present at Azkaban, we recovered twenty-one bodies. Correctional records showed all those recovered were scheduled for broom patrol duty at the time." Brenton and Bigby shuffled some more pieces of parchment. "We conducted a thorough search of the crater and found human remains left within some parts of it. Our current assumption is that the rest of the guards and the prisoners were killed in the blast that destroyed Azkaban, but we are pursuing any other leads. The blast in question seems to have been caused by a burst of magical fire originating in the lower levels of the prison. There aren't many spells that could do something like this, but we can't say anything conclusive about that. The current going theory is that Fiendfyre was used."

"Fiendfyre can do that?" Director Fuller interrupted.

"It's our theory," Bigby answered. "There are two other cases in which the use of Fiendfyre resulted in similar damage, however it killed the user in one of those cases. It's possible this was a suicide mission."

Harry raised his hand, trying to hurry along the process, and Bigby pointed to him.

"Is there anything left of the prison?"

"Just the docks on the outside were spared," Bigby said. "That and an unused storage shack on the northern part of the island."

"Is there anything the Wizengamot needs to know concerning this attack? I assume they'll be concerned with it happening again mostly."

"We're in the dark on this, Lord Potter. No suspects or witnesses means we have no motive. We've made a proposal to reinforce security at the Ministry and other locations in the meantime."

"I believe we have about sixty people who happen to be out of a job currently, people who were already vetted and trained to at least deal with dangerous individuals."

Bigby frowned and looked towards Fuller and Kingsley.

"You mean the new Azkaban Guard?" Kingsley asked.

"Some of them can be used to guard those criminals we have in temporary incarceration, the others to reinforce security. Take one location and put an Auror at the head of a team of Guards. I'm sure the AD will be too busy with the investigation anyway."

"Is that wise?" Fuller asked. "Those guards are fresh out of training."

"But under the supervision of an Auror that might do," Robards said with a nod towards Kingsley. "If you put through the order, I'll have it done."

"All right," Kingsley sighed. "Better than to have them sitting around doing nothing."

"Auror Bigby, was there anything else of importance?" Harry asked.

"No, Lord Potter. I'll appraise you or the Chief Warlock of any developments if they happen."

"Thank you," Harry said checking his watch. "I better get there early. I'll tell them the investigation is in good hands."

#

He let out a sigh of relief spotting Hermione. The stuffiness of briefings could get to him easily. She was chatting with Augusta about the latest and he smiled at the obvious worry she was trying to make apparent. No one would ever guess that she was responsible for two deaths during that incident. People would doubt themselves before they would doubt Hermione's integrity.

"Did it go well?" she asked, clearly relieved to see him too.

"As well as can be. They don't have much to go on."

"I'm sure that'll change," she said, briefly letting a sly look bleed through.

"Oh, I'll have to repeat it in a few minutes, but I suggested putting the new Azkaban Guard to work as security. They'll be supervised by the AD."

"Good for the Aurors," Cassius said. "Stretched thin already with all these grim happenings lately. Such a bad, bad year it's been…"

"Well, at least there's still the Harpies looking good this season," Harry said with a tap on Perditus Fawley's shoulder. "Want me to get you some tickets if they get to the finals?"

"Is it going to be the Tornadoes then?" he asked.

"If the Harpies beat the Magpies, yes."

"You saw Ginevra lately?" Augusta asked.

"We have," Hermione answered. "She looked in great spirits."

"Well that's good news at least," Augusta puffed.

Harry turned to the murmurs around him and saw Greengrass approach with a facade of mourning, however there was a happiness in his eyes he could not hide. He came to face Harry and vigorously shook his hand. "Good to see you, Lord Potter." He lowered his voice. "Bad time, but I have good news among the bad. Astoria woke up this morning, Draco Malfoy too. Can we speak later?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised at the news. "Yes, that's fine." He looked around.

"Lady Malfoy didn't come, no. Between having her son back and losing her husband — presumably… It's been a tumultuous few days."

"All right," Harry said.

Harry smiled as they sat down, now a little impatient at having to go through this most likely lengthy session before they got to find out the fate of Astoria Greengrass. The assembly was in a serious mood, and rightfully so. The destruction of one of the so-called bastions of the Ministry was no joking matter. It made them look weak, but that was a necessary sacrifice.

"As you all know by now," Greengrass said, "the Prison of Azkaban was destroyed last night."

Despite knowing full well for many hours, a murmur rose up.

"Before we start, Lord Potter has been so kind as to relay information from the Auror Department and the DMLE investigation directly. Mr. Potter."

Harry rose and they all looked expectantly at him. "I won't waste much of your time," Harry said. "The news is correct. Azkaban has been completely destroyed. So far no survivors of what seems to be an attack on the prison have been found, but the investigation is ongoing. The AD is quite confident the attack was carried out by a group of at least six people. There are currently no suspects."

"As for measures taken," Harry continued, "security will be increased at all Ministry facilities. To achieve this I have suggested the Auror Department enlist the newly trained Azkaban Guard to help them. This should give them a purpose in the meantime and take some pressure off the already overworked Law Enforcement personnel. That's all I have to report at this moment."

Harry's initiative was met with much approval. It was an unexpected thing, but he was glad how things had turned out. The Azkaban Guard was after all one of his more brilliant ideas. A seemingly innocuous proposal to better train the Guards of Azkaban he hoped might bring that group of less talented people closer to the AD through training programs. Now that this reality had just fallen into his lap. Playing their cards right, this might be an invaluable asset. There was just the very small problem of their workplace having been burnt to a crisp.

It was surprisingly Bones who raised the issue. "So where do we house our criminals now?" he called out.

"The Ministry has eight cells in the Auror Department and ten more in the other departments," Harry responded. "But we'll need a temporary solution at least. Those are for temporary incarceration."

Rowle stood up, finally seeing his moment. "If I may," he said. "It was one of Lord Potter's points in the debates that the expropriation act had struck many families, and I would see some restitution at least where that's concerned. However… there are those families who were ended with Voldemort's fall. We could use some of those manors."

Harry was surprised. Rowle was turning out to be more resourceful than anticipated. Then again, he had survived both the war and the aftermath, despite his brother Thorfinn having dragged his family name through the dirt. He looked to Augusta, who still was the de facto leader of their block.

"The neutral block would like to back the motion to use those properties," she said, standing up.

"Can we put this to a show of hands?" Greengrass asked. The amphitheatre almost instantly raised their hands. With the right oversight the Ministry could be useful in a moment of crisis, even if that crisis was fabricated.

There were many other issues that followed. There was talk of building a new prison, but Harry kept his ideas close to his chest. This would all be decided later. As a show of unity, a memorial was to be erected on Azkaban Island. Additionally, Harry was asked to inform the AD to have the island under Auror surveillance, although they were doing that already.

Greengrass ended the session with a heartfelt speech about the lives lost. He knew how to play the game and put himself at the forefront. This suited Harry fine now. If there actually was a group of terrorists, they would look to Greengrass first. There was talk of selling the properties remaining for both the construction of the new prison and financial help for those touched by the expropriation act. He would have to talk with Rowle to put his name on that ticket.

He and Hermione waited for Greengrass on the outside, their excitement apparent to each other.

"We might get some answers," he said.

"Or we might not," she said. "It could be we never get an answer to what happened to us."

"And are you fine with that?"

"I am fine," she said, entwining her left hand with his.

Cassandra Greengrass joined them and they took a portkey to the manor. Alpharius seemed in good spirits, while his wife wondered if it would be preferable to have Dennis nearby.

"If there's trouble we'll meet with him," Hermione said. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to get his opinion as well, but I'm curious to see how well Astoria is doing."

"Daphne says she's well," Cassandra said as they walked inside, "but Astoria has refused to leave her room since she woke. She… seems to be aware of what she did under the influence of the curse."

"Shame is a more natural reaction at least," Harry said, to which Cassandra smiled weakly.

They were just inside when Daphne came running, looking as happy as could be. "Harry Potter!" she exclaimed. "Come now. It's wonderful, you have to see it."

"It turned out well then?" Harry asked.

"Yes," she said with scintillating eyes. "I can't thank you enough. I have my sister back!"

They stopped in front of Astoria's room, and Daphne started banging on it quite loudly. "Sister, open up! Harry is here to see you."

"Go away!" came the muffled cry of Astoria.

"Oh, come on 'Stori! He just saw you naked, it's nothing terrible!"

Harry grimaced at the surprised 'what' coming from Cassandra. Surely she could have left that out. Before any drama could ensue, Astoria opened the door a sliver and the frown she was wearing was a sure sign that whatever had happened, she was not the ailing young woman he knew from before.

"Are you going to make fun of me?" she asked to the assembled people at her door.

"I didn't before, did I?" Harry offered.

With a downcast look and a nod, she opened the door the rest of the way. She slumped sitting on the bed. "It's true that out of all my father's friends you were the only one to take an interest in what was wrong with me. And I am better, so thank you… I guess."

"What's this about him seeing you naked!" Cassandra asked.

"Oh, shut up, mum!" Astoria said. "It was just that stupid curse and all the awful things I did because of it. I was almost going to marry Draco Malfoy!"

Daphne took place on the bed beside her sister and put her arms around her shoulders. "See? It's a miracle. She's completely healed!"

"That is surprising," Hermione said.

Surprising was the least of it. Far more than sharing the adverse effects of the curse it seems the procedure had rid her of it completely. It just cemented in Harry's mind that they were toying with forces they really did not comprehend. The blemish on the red outline that had been there before was now completely gone. Now he badly wanted to know what had happened to Malfoy. Harry looked towards Daphne. "You haven't seen any of her previous behaviour?"

She shook her head and poked Astoria in her cheek, to which Astoria slapped Daphne's hand away. "Stop being so clingy," she complained.

Harry shook his head and looked over to Alpharius, who probably had been anticipating Harry's request. Although with the sisters as they were, it would depend on them.

"Astoria," Harry said. "I'm sure your sister told you by now what I asked of you before."

Cassandra came forward defensively. "She just woke up! Please give her some time —"

"We haven't decided anything yet," Harry interrupted, and he looked back at Astoria. Daphne raised her eyebrows at her sister, who returned a look of exasperation.

"What would this work be then?" Astoria asked.

"Well, you'd help with the day to day and be the public face of the charity," Harry said. Seeing that she was still doubtful, he added: "I was thinking of holding a charity ball once this Azkaban news isn't as fresh. I'm sure your father would have a few properties fit for the occasion."

"A ball…" Astoria mused. "Say, where's the other one that was with you? Shouldn't he be here considering he's a healer?"

"Dennis Creevey," Hermione nodded. "We will go see him at some point soon, to see if you're really fit to work."

"And when would that be?" she asked, brushing hair out of her eyes.

Harry smiled. "Soon. Oh he'll be there at the ball too, no chance Dennis misses a charitable occasion."

Astoria took a deep breath, and looked at her sister. "I think it could be good, don't you? Getting out into the world." She turned to her parents. "And a charity seems like a good enough occupation for a proper lady."

"If that's what you both want, then…" Alpharius trailed off.

Daphne stood up and briefly hugged her father, thanking him. Alpharius' discomfort in presence of his two blackmailers was evident, but clearly he'd kept his perversions out of his household at least.

With a last few arrangements, they bid their goodbyes to the sisters and enquired about the Malfoys.

"They're in the sun room I believe," Alpharius said, guiding them along.

They were both sitting in the pale morning light, Narcissa's noble features showing the lines of stress and insomnia. She was sitting close to Draco, shoving a plate of pastry towards him. Draco… was smiling. As soon as they came closer, Harry's suspicion was confirmed. A gaping emptiness in the core of his being extending like tendrils, courtesy of the Greengrass curse.

Spotting Harry and Hermione, he hastily stood up, and Narcissa rose beside him. "Lord Potter," Draco said, "Lord Greengrass, I have to thank you again for helping me and my mother, and helping Astoria."

Harry shook Draco's hand and turned to Narcissa, who looked frail. "My condolences."

Narcissa nodded and so did Draco. "Terrible what happened," he said. But there was something empty about his statement, like to him his father was just one among hundreds, which was probably the case given his condition.

Now that the Malfoys weren't politically useful to either Greengrass or them, the only thing preventing them from being destitute was their good graces. But both Lucius and Draco Malfoy were essentially no more. Harry could be magnanimous in victory.

"It's a little early to say, but maybe some good news," he said, turning to Narcissa. "Lord Rowle proposed a sort of financial help for families of the incarcerated. It's possible some of the funds from the Expropriation Act gets you financial help. A number of the properties will be used in Azkaban's stead and the rest will be liquidated."

There was no hiding the satisfaction in having Narcissa thank him for Malfoy Manor being turned into a prison or sold.

"Lord Greengrass," she said, "can we still count on you for help in the meantime?"

"I think that's doable, yes."

"See, mother?" Draco said brightly, "good things do happen."

"So, how are you feeling?" Hermione asked. "Any discomfort since you woke up?"

"Not at all. Seems I was in good hands with you and Mr. Creevey."

Hermione performed some tests, as much as she could considering the elusive nature of advanced curses, but the look in her eyes told Harry there wasn't much to be gleaned. That was all right, the results spoke for themselves.

With the visit over, they went back to the parlour. Cassandra had plenty of questions about their daughters' new arrangement. They would spend four days a week at the shelters, and there was no saying what they would decide for accommodation once they got their first pay in galleons, but at least they would have time to adjust to them leaving the nest. Alpharius thanked them again over lunch and finally, they went back to Grimmauld Place, where Kreacher was waiting for them with tea.

Harry leaned on the table, listening to Hermione rattle on about the implications of what had happened with Malfoy. But it seemed that the most pertinent fact — at least to him — didn't bother Hermione at all. Astoria had woken up from her cursed state and regretted what she'd done. For the first time since his awakening, he wondered if their situation was truly for the best. He felt fine, not a sliver of doubt had entered his mind, but then again Astoria hadn't doubted her situation either before they intervened.

The sight of the emerald and citrine on his finger brought him out of his musings. This kind of fanciful thinking wasn't helpful at all, and they had a bloody wedding to plan.

#

It felt strange, meeting in secret. He thought those days were over when the war ended. He chuckled at how lowly it was for the Minister himself to slink around unnoticed. He'd borrowed Unspeakable Gorum's invisibility cloak for the occasion, since McGonagall still had his. As promised, the back entrance of the Hog's Head Inn was unlocked and he entered into the storage space, spotting Aberforth.

"And here I thought I'd gotten rid of my rat problem."

"A pleasure to see you too, Abe," Kingsley sighed, taking off his cloak. "Did Minerva tell you what it was about?"

"You think that woman tells me anything?" He huffed a gravelly laugh and went further inside. "She was polite of course, but I don't have to guess to know this can't be good news."

"I don't know."

They moved further into the room with Ariana's painting. Kingsley checked his watch. On the strike of six exactly, the painting moved aside and Minerva stepped into the room, smiling at both men. "Thank you for agreeing to meet, truly."

"You restored the tunnel?" he asked.

"With Aberforth's permission of course."

They shook hands and moved into Abe's small living room for some tea. He handed out a set of small chipped cups as they sat down.

"Does this have anything to do with your previous visit to my brother's pensieve?" Aberforth asked McGonagall. "Not that I mind, but they do still make them."

"Shrewd as always, Aberforth. Yes, it does. I didn't think I'd have use for one, and up until now I hadn't." She folded her hands in her lap and her eyebrows drew together, broadcasting her worry. "There were circumstances surrounding Trelawney's death. Not in a sense that it should have been investigated. She gave a prophecy, right before she died in front of my eyes."

Aberforth brought his hand to his face and sighed. "Not this again!"

"I know you don't like it, Aberforth, but I also believe we've built a certain level of trust over the years? Just with the recent happenings and the timing… I would greatly appreciate your help."

"In the interest of disclosure then, shall I explain what happened at Azkaban?" asked Kingsley.

Minerva nodded and Kingsley proceeded to repeat the happenings with Greyback. Aberforth's frown only deepened listening to the story. "And this prophecy relates to that?" he asked Minerva.

"I've never been too versed in Divination, which is why I asked for your advice."

"Then let's get on with it," Aberforth said, standing up.

The pensieve was located in a nook beside a lavatory. It was cramped, dirty, and clammy. They stood all three around the basin while Minerva pulled out a vial and emptied the silvery liquid into the pool. Kingsley shivered at the echoey shriek emanating from the bowl. They dived in.

Having never witnessed prophecy in person, it was quite a shock, but he did his best to memorise the very specific wording. He now knew why he had been asked to come. Should something like this become public, there was no saying what would happen.

Beware the two headed dragon.

Its claws sinking deep into Albion.

And its fall at the Solstice.

Shall bring us into the eye of the storm.

Red, Gold and Black will end them.

And out of it pure darkness born.

They quickly got out of the closet and back into the living room. Aberforth now grabbed a bottle of Ogden's and three glasses and filled them.

"So," he said, "I can't say I'm more enlightened than I was before I saw that."

"Do you have any idea what it means?" Kingsley added.

Minerva thanked Abe for the drink and shook her head. "I've used the Hogwarts library to look for any mention of a 'two-headed dragon', but nothing pertinent came up. The mention of the solstice didn't help me either, since the winter solstice passed since. I guess I'm most worried about something happening in the coming days as we approach summer, with what happened at Azkaban."

Aberfoth narrowed his eyes at them. "You do realise that by the nature of prophecy this will happen. There's nothing you can do to stop it. It's a crutch for a dead man."

"That's a sobering thought," Kingsley said, downing his whiskey.

"There is something, though," Aberforth continued. "It says red, gold and black, but if you take gold as white…"

"The three steps in creating the philosopher's stone," Minerva said.

"My brother did like his alchemical texts."

"Well, both Albus and Flamel are dead. I seriously doubt anyone still has the necessary knowledge to create it. Seems we are still in the dark."

"I guess it's too much to ask for Greyback to wake before the 21st," Kingsley said.

"I doubt he will," Minerva said, "if he even wakes at all."