As Always I do not own the Harry Potter Characters.
Chapter 33, Storming the Ministry
It was a late Friday night over London, just about to turn into early Saturday Morning. The streets of one of the lower-class sections of the city—an area approximately four city blocks in diameter—were filled with dispossessed people being escorted away from their homes by the police and military. The Prime Minister gave the strange order to evacuate that section of the city only hours ago, and refused to give any reasons, merely promising that the reason would manifest itself soon enough.
It was, therefore, that the Police and soldiers who executed the evacuation did so grudgingly. In spite of the Prime Minister's orders that the evacuation was to be handled with the utmost speed, it moved slowly; until the reason why the evacuation was ordered was made clear.
It looked like a meteor shower, several hundred balls of fire landing in this one section of the city, concentrated on the center of the section. After the shower began, the evacuation sped up; within another hour, the entire section was clear of muggles. The Muggles, however, would not be kept in the dark for long. Within a half-hour after the section under bombardment was fully evacuated; the ground underneath it was beginning to collapse, revealing a huge, cavernous, underground building of sorts; several people dressed in robes and cloaks, armed with what appeared to be long, wooden sticks and swords, flying atop longer, thicker sticks, filled the skies; flying toward the area under bombardment. The muggles were further confused upon seeing the main roads of the city filled with people similarly dressed in cloaks and robes, marching in columns toward the area under bombardment.
Father Bates arrived at the scene only seconds after the first section of the ground above the ministry began to collapse. He immediately ordered a fellow Nasserite to return to the artillery lines and instruct Captain Lupin to cease fire; after this order was given, several more Nasserites and broomsmen, including Harry, Reverend Ewls, Barnabas McNamara, and Walter Mickey began to land at the scene and enter the ministry of magic via the hole cut by the intense bombardment.
The hole in the ground lead directly to the atrium; they had to fly through it atop their brooms on the count of the fact that the high ceiling of the atrium would result in the deaths of any who tried to simply jump. Once inside, resistance was heavy as the remnants of Voldemort's Death Eaters and other supporters waited for the arrival of the broomsmen and Nasserites right in the atrium. Both sides hurled assorted unfriendly curses at each-other. The lines were unclear, there were no actual "sides" of the battle as both sides intermingled with one another until the atrium was filled with hundreds of confused wizards cursing—or in the case of the Nasserites/Jebusites slashing or stabling—anyone they found who wasn't dressed as they were.
The only participant in the battle who seemed not to be confused was Father bates, who after only fifteen minutes of participation in the battle, began walking toward the atrium lifts. He appeared to walk with a purpose as he made his way through the battle in order to get to them. He did not ask any of the other Nasserites to accompany him however McNamara and Mickey went along out of their own volition, unsure of why they should trust Father Bates on where to go. As he lead the two through the battle, strangely enough, wizards on both sides seemed to ignore him. He seemed, somehow, perfectly immune to the chaos which raged around him.
When they arrived at one of the twenty lifts which stood to one side of the ministry atrium, the door magically opened for them, and they stepped in. As they elevator began its descent, the three men remained silent. Whenever they had seen him in the temple over the course of the past few months, McNamara and Mickey noticed that Father Bates had been on edge, breathing deeply, squinting his eyes, placing his hand upon his forehead as if suffering from a terrible headache. Here, however, Bates appeared powerfully resolved and comfortable. At each floor, a female voice gave the names of the various departments which occupied the level, yet strangely enough, after passing level nine "Department of Mysteries" the lift continued to descend, finally stopping a few seconds later.
The lift opened to reveal a deserted corridor, McNamara and Mickey kept their swords in a defensive position as they entered the corridor from the lift, while Father Bates sheathed his sword and walked comfortably. The three came to the end of the corridor at which stood a large, locked door.
"Let's open it up," Bates said.
Without another word, McNamara sheathed his sword and drew his wand from his robes. He took aim…
"Alohomora."
The door suddenly swung a few inches outward toward the three men attempting to gain access. Mickey quickly pulled it the rest of the way open revealing a dark room into which McNamara proceeded with caution, drawing his sword. Father Bates and Walter Mickey followed behind McNamara, Bates entered completely unarmed and completely unconcerned.
Although the room was dark, the three men could make out a huge table atop which sat a map. A high pitched English voice suddenly penetrated the unknown darkness.
"You're late Bates!" it said harshly.
"What the," came Walter Mickey's voice.
"Lumos," chanted Barnabas McNamara whose wand, held in his left hand while his sword was still in his right, gave light to a tall, thin man whose nose was flat and eyes were red. Mickey and McNamara instinctually recognized who stood before them immediately.
"Illuminaro," said Voldemort as the lights in the room suddenly came back on so that the four men could see each other quite well.
McNamara made the first move; without any warning, after pocketing his wand he suddenly lunged at Voldemort, sinking his sword into the Dark Lord's chest. Voldemort did not even cringe in pain, much to the shock of the man who still held the handle of the sword as it penetrated the Dark Lord's heart. Instead, Voldemort's face appeared slightly annoyed as he, with one hand took his own Nephesite sword out of its sheath, while with the other hand batted away McNamara's grip on the Nasserite sword which rested in his chest in order to pull it out of his heart.
Crossing the two swords together as if they composed a pair of scissors, Voldemort quickly beheded McNamara before he even cognitively realized what had happened. The last look on the face of Barnabas McNamara was one of shock, surely the Dark Lord should have been killed, instead the wound delivered by McNamara's sword didn't even appear on Voldemort's body.
"No!" cried Walter Mickey as he drew his own wand. "Avada Ke…"
"Avada Kedavra!" came the voice of Father Robert Bates as his wand took aim at Walter Mickey. A green light emanating from Father Bates's wand sent Mickey's body flying in the air for several feet till it landed on the huge table, and slid off, falling onto one of the chairs which rested thereat, causing the chair to fall over under the weight of his body. As Mickey's body came to rest on the floor, Father Bates pocketed his wand.
"Time to leave," said Father Bates.
"You have failed Bates," said Voldemort harshly, Father Bates' expression appeared unconcerned. "You said this little scheme of yours would work, I trusted you to keep the Nasserites away from my forces! I trusted my entire army to you! Schweinzunge has fallen and Rebels have attacked the French ministry of Magic, our forces in India have surrendered! Now the Nasserites have joined the war!'
"These losses will soon be made up for," said Father Bates calmly. "In the meant time, Potter is here, and he has been trained in the Nasserite arts, we must leave before he has a chance to find us."
From his pocket, Father Bates drew a small, hand-sized, Greek Cross.
"I have established a port key connection between here and the castle."
Lead by the reports of eyewitnesses who saw Father Bates, Barnabas McNamara, and Walter Mickey leave the fight, Harry and Reverend Ewls, along with two other Nasserites, made their way to the very same lift down which Father Bates had descended. Unlike Bates who walked unconcerned through the fighting, these four Nasserites had to fight their way to the lift, before arriving at it, entering, and descending. They eventually came to the same empty corridor after Level Nine.
"That's unusual," said Harry as he and the three Nasserites entered the corridor cautiously. "These lifts only stop at Level Nine, I wonder why this one took us here. You don't suppose Father Bates knew something that we didn't?"
"Hmm, I'm not sure," said Reverend Ewls, whose voice and facial expression were contemplative. "He might not be down here, we should proceed with caution, the Dark Lord is somewhere within this building."
As Voldemort and Father Bates both took hold of the portkey; Harry, Reverend, and the other two Nasserites entered the room through the now widely opened door. Upon seeing the two men holding the portkey, the expressions of the four Nasserites immediately became shocked, confused, what was Father Bates doing? This confusion proceeded until Reverend Ewls' voice broke the silence.
"You bastard!" he shouted, his eyes focused on Father Bates whose expression was cold and unemotional.
"Satanum aeternum." Came father Bates' voice as the two men disappeared.
"God help us," said Harry.
The four Nasserites' heads then found the headless corpse of Barnabas McNamara, and the lifeless body of Walter Mickey, each lying upon the floor of the room. Their sadness at the loss of their two beloved bards was overwhelming. Amidst the despair which had now filled the hearts of the four men standing in the otherwise empty room came Reverend Ewls's voice.
"We will find them, it's only a matter of time; though this war has been prolonged indefinitely," Ewls said trying to sound confident, but his heart was obviously heavy. "Pick your heads up, we still have a battle to win, and a war fight."
Without another word, Reverend Ewls turned from facing the position at which Voldemort and Father bates had been standing and exited back into the corridor. Harry and the other two Nasserites followed him. The four boarded the lift which took them back to the atrium, back to the battle.
In addition to the atrium, the Battle had found its way into the various corridors and departments of the ministry. The remainder of Voldemort's forces put up a decent struggle at first, but when the rest of the BWLA arrived in support of the Nasserites and American Broomsmen, they stood no chance, the British Magical Government was now back in the hands of the legitimate ministry of magic.
During the battle, the broomsmen and wand-artillery bombardment were plainly visible to hundreds of thousands of Muggle Londoners, the kind of massive memory charms needed to correct the situation were simply not available, the wizarding world had been revealed. The Prime Minister addressed the country via BBC at 3 AM London Time. The absolutely incredible news was now traveling around the country of an entire secret society of magical people which traversed the entire world. Not only so but news of the war and Voldemort was also revealed to muggles, for the first time they were warned to the exact extent of what kind of threats they faced from Voldemort's remaining minions. Whether or not this was a particularly intelligent move, by 4:00 AM, the Prime Minister had declared Martial Law and the Royal Military pledged support to Minister fudge in any way possible to find Lord Voldemort.
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The labyrinth of the ministry of magic took hours to fully pacify, and it wasn't until 5:30 AM that the last pockets of enemy resistance were eliminated. General Snape set up headquarters in the Auror Service Headquarters in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement and was informed of the completion of the searches not a minute later.
"General Snape, we have secured the Ministry," said the informing Nasserite.
"Prisoners?" asked Snape in return.
"Not many, most of them fought to the death."
Snape nodded in resignation to the fact that the battle, although a victory, had been extremely costly as the BWLA had lost almost half its number, and Voldemort was still at large. Not only so, but a new enemy had been revealed, one from within the very heart of the Nasserite Order.
While the rest of the ministry of magic was being reoccupied, the Atrium was being used as a make-shift barracks, as several sleeping bags had been rolled out at random locations along the floor. Although it was now early morning, those who had been fighting were exhausted, and what few of them could find it in themselves to sleep did so. Ron, Hermione, and Harry sat next to each other against one of the huge walls of the atrium; they were definitely unable to sleep as even though they had each been in battle before, none of them had seen anything as intense as what they had witnessed the day before.
Ron could not bring himself to stop crying as his unfortunate newfound prospect had finally, truly sunk in. Resting in the arms of his wife, who stroked his hair and the side of his face, he occasionally broke down, unable to hold back his tears. His had been permanently scarred, he had no clue about how he would carry on for each month he would present a danger to his wife and his child. Hermione too shed tears as the realization of this prospect was beginning to sink in. She would have a good deal of planning to do with her husband in order to insure her son's and her own safety, they would also have to secure a supplier of Wolfsbane potion which in itself was not easy, and all of this depended on whether or not they would survive the continuing war.
Harry simply stared into space, trying not only to forget the carnage he had witnessed, but the fact that one of the men he had trusted since his first arrival at the Temple of the Cross was in league with Voldemort. 'How was it possible?' thought Harry, 'that bates could have even been inside the temple for any amount of time without being overwhelmed with suffering?' It was as he pondered these thoughts that a familiar but disliked voice entered his ears.
"Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter," came the slow, snarling voice of Severus Snape.
"General," replied Hermione just above a whisper, a hint of nervousness was clearly evident.
Snape's usually harsh expression gave way to one which could only be described as gratitude, it was odd, neither of the three had seen anything like it in Snape.
"You fought well last night," Snape's voice said with a hint of reluctance, as if he was having to swallow his pride in order to continue. "And…" he paused for a moment. "You have my thanks. Mr. Weasley I heard of your new predicament and I would be willing to assist you with a supply of Wolfsbane potion…" he paused for second as his eyes beheld Ron's stunned expression which shown through his tears. "…Free of charge."
The three of them looked at their ex-potions master with looks of utter shock. Before his facial expression could respond, Snape turned his back on them and quickly walked off, leaving the three stunned. Immediately after he left, a much more welcome familiar face approached from off in the distance in the Atrium. When he arrived, Reverend Ewls' face was blank, unemotional, which did not bode well to the three who had already suffered enough in the way of lost hopes without Reverend Ewls giving up on them.
"Harry, Ron, Hermione, are you alright?" asked Ewls.
"No," said Hermione who still held her weeping husband tightly to herself.
"No I wouldn't imagine so," Ewls' face fell on Ron. "I'm sorry Ron, if there's anything that I can do… I know this will be hard for you…"
"That's an understatement," came Ron through his tears.
The three had never witnessed Reverend Ewls give an expression of such uncertainty before; he truly did not know what to say. He had been so used to counseling people with worse spiritual matters, he had even counseled werewolves but somehow this situation was different, somehow he could not bring himself to say anything comforting to Ron. He simply began to turn as if to walk away when Hermione's voice prevented him.
"Reverend, did we do right last night?"
"There's never any right in war," said Ewls. "All I can tell you is that you did what you had to do."
"I feel so disconnected from God," said Ron through his tears. "Hermione and I tried to pray earlier, but we couldn't, it was strange, neither of us could bring ourselves to talk to God, it was as if God had abandoned us."
"Nothing could be farther from the truth," said Ewls. "God still love you, but he hates war. I share your feeling of emptiness right now."
"What was it all for Reverend?" asked Harry. "We fought so hard and so many people died today, Voldemort's still out there, and what's worse, Father Bates…"
"…is on the run." Ewls finished Harry's sentence. "He and Voldemort are being pursued by thousands of good men who will fight until he gone. The last horcrux is gone, he is not invincible." Ewls turned back to Hermione and Ron. "Just because you feel empty doesn't mean that God isn't there; that's part of what it means to have faith, to hope for God's love even when you can't feel it. We still have hope."
Without another word, Ewls turned and walked from them, his expression seemed almost unconvinced of what he was trying to tell them. As Ewls walked through the atrium he was stopped by a familiar voice…
"Uncle Tom?"
Captain Andrew Ewls approached from his uncle's right, when Reverend Ewls turned and saw his approaching Nephew, his expression became slightly more positive, but still one of emotional emptiness. When Captain Ewls finished his approach, the two shook hands.
"Andrew," Ewls greeted. "It's good to see you, I see God has kept you safe."
"So many of my men have died, how horrible is war," Captain Ewls said with a look of similar emotional emptiness to that of his uncle. "I am sorry about your family, I'm sure that you know and need not be comforted by the fact that they are forever with the Lord now."
Reverend Ewls nodded at the previous statement by his nephew which obviously did not lift his spirits. Captain Ewls realized immediately that he had just touched on a sensitive matter. His eyes gave a look of penance, he was sorry he brought it up, his uncle nodded again in understanding, as if to accept his unspoken apology.
"I best get back to my brigade," said Captain Ewls. "God bless you."
Captain Ewls turned and walked in the direction from whence he had come.
"And you as well," came his uncle's voice as he left.
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That night, the night before Easter came; Harry, Ron, and Hermione slept on the floor of the atrium next to the wall at which they had been previously sitting. Ron and Hermione's arms interlocked as they slept cuddled next to each-other. Harry, of course, slept alone; as he slept though, images ran through his mind quickly, random at first. He saw Professor McGonagall playing a violin with Luna Lovegood dancing to it. He found himself back in Horace Slughorn's potions class of the year before, this somehow turned into him riding a hippogriff until the dreams suddenly stopped being random.
As he had only weeks before while in a state of meditation, he found himself standing atop the Hogwarts astronomy tower across from Lord Voldemort; both of them with swords drawn.
"Time to meet your destiny Potter!"
As before, the two charged wildly at each other, but before being able to witness even the beginning of this battle, Harry felt a hard stone surface come to his back. When he opened his eyes he saw the atrium, exactly as he had left it before entering into the dream world. He found Ron cuddled comfortably in Hermione's arms sleeping. As these sights came into his mind, so too did a new cognition, a realization; he now understood his destiny right down to the very last location. He knew exactly what he had to do. He suddenly sat up and spoke softly, so as not to awaken the object of his sentence.
"In case I don't make it back," he spoke to his sleeping friends. "Know that my heart goes with you always, good bye my friends."
In a lonely corner of the Atrium, Reverend Ewls meditated silently amidst several sleeping Nasserites. He noticed Harry approaching though his eyes still did not open. He also knew exactly what Harry was about to tell him. When Harry arrived, he sat down directly in front of the meditating reverend who did not give any sign of giving recognition of the presence of his apprentice. Under normal circumstances, Harry would never interrupt Reverend Ewls' meditation, this time however…
"Reverend," Harry spoke. Ewls opened his eyes, his expression was one of understanding, he knew what Harry was going to say. "I know where to find him."
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With brooms slung behind their backs and sheathed swords attached to their wastes via leather strap belts, Reverend Ewls and Harry set off alone through the deserted streets of London—deserted on the count of the muggle martial-law curfew—just above the ministry of magic. The large hole above the atrium which had been cut by artillery was plainly visible.
"Reverend, shouldn't we be taking other Nasserites with us?"
"What you experienced may have been just a dream," Ewls responded. "The Nasserites would never follow us on merely a hunch, nor would any of the members of the BWLA. Besides facing Voldemort is your destiny according to the prophesy, not theirs."
"But you are coming with me Reverend," said Harry with a hint of begging in his voice, he certainly did not want to do this alone.
"I will accompany you as far as God allows me," said Ewls. "But I have a feeling that
Voldemort won't be the only one we'll have to face tonight, and that my final destiny is soon upon me."
"Harry!" came a female voice through the darkness of the streets.
Ewls and Harry turned to see Hermione approaching them quickly.
"Hermione, we have to do this alone," said Harry. "Please go back to Ron."
"Yes, Let me go back to get Ron Harry, let me bring him back here, let me go with you," Hermione pleaded. "Where are we going?"
"Hermione please, this my destiny, not yours," Harry responded.
"But Reverend Ewls is going with you."
"Hermione no…"
Hermione's expression was taken back, she was now not only begging but doing so with a definite presence of anger in her voice.
"Harry, Ron and I have stayed by your side through everything you've had to go through and we're not missing this one!"
"Hermione, if we're right about this, there's nothing you'll be able to do," Harry told her. This did not dim her expression of resolve to accompany him as her eyes continued to beg. "You are powerful and wise and the war-effort needs you." Harry placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders comfortably, in addition to her frustration, a tear suddenly came to her eyes. "I have to go back home now, this is something I have to do; our destinies lie on different paths, its time for us to change now, to grow. You have to go back to your husband, and I have to face my destiny."
Hermione's tears suddenly began to fall freely through her continued resolve. Her voice was shaking as she continued to plead.
"But Harry I want us to be together," Hermione said. "We've always stuck together, and everything's been taken from us, all us three have left is each other. Let's not take that away, lets not let that change."
"But you can't stop the change Hermione," said Harry calmly, attempting to comfort her. "I belong with the Nasserites, you don't, if you did God would have called you to be one but he didn't, God has called you and Ron for another purpose. Ron is the closest thing I have to brother, and you are the closest thing I have to a sister; we may have to separate for a while, but my love for you two will always remain."
With her arms in a quick motion, joined by a squeak of her voice, Hermione took Harry into an intense embrace. Harry responded by pressing Hermione against him with as much pressure as she had been exerting.
"I love you Harry," Hermione said. "God go with you."
"I love you, God go with you too."
The two broke apart to reveal to each other the tears which their respective faces now bore. Hermione stepped back a few feet as Reverend Ewls and Harry both mounted their brooms and flew into the night. After watching the two fly off to the north, a realization suddenly came to Hermione, her eyes widened…
"Back home," she said to herself.
Without another moment's hesitation, she took off at a quick run back for the atrium.