Amelia Bones, Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, sat in the Minister of Magic office speaking with the Current Minister, a Titerius Ogden, sat in the Minister's seat, his face was round as his body, though his forearms were massive. Ogden was a charms master, an accomplished duelist in his youth and started in the Ministry as a Hit Wizard before moving into the Department of International Relations under Crouch. When Crouch lost his position last year, he assumed the role of Head, and within a year was Minister of Magic. Amelia knew his father, Tiberius, was thrilled to have a son as successful as him. Though if his father saw him now, she was unsure what his reaction would be.
"I warned you! I told him that he was necessary for the Auror force! Instead, he went ahead and got himself killed! It's lucky that we only had seven fatalities even if Robards will never be the same. And don't think I don't remember you overstepping me either Amelia!" Titerius blustered as his face was blotched red from his yelling. Amelia ignored him as she focused on the tea in her cup.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself Amelia?" He huffed as he sat back in his chair and waited. Amelia sighed and looked up at the Minister. She opened her mouth before he cut her off.
"If what you are about to say isn't, You were right Minister, you better keep it to yourself. I can repl-" Amelia's eyes narrowed and in a flash, her wand was in her hand, a silencing charm placed.
"I have sat here for over two hours getting scolded by you. So, for the next minute, you will listen. You will understand. Rufus' death is terrible, not just for the ministry but for me. Just as the other seven aurors lost. It is not your job to draft the letters to the family members, nor is it your job to clean their cubicles. It falls to me and mine, thus, stop concerning yourself with it. Memorialize them, and then move on. As far as this war is concerned, I know exactly what footing we are on. We are precariously winning. Winning a war where we are besieged on two sides, where one of our strongest players just disappeared in Albus Dumbledore, and where the leader of one opposition appeared to do battle with another. My Aurors retreated, as ordered by myself and Rufus. Rufus passed away on that island, and the island was safely removed from this plane, possibly injuring the Dark Lords present while leaving another key figure unharmed in Harry Potter. Our situation is precarious, not dire, and that is all I am thankful for Minister." She took a breath before her visage turned stoic. "I have no issue with you Titerius, but you forget that during times of War, I am the ministry. If you want to replace me, you better come with a better reason than you feel disrespected. Moving on, we need to discuss funerals. Are we having them? Are we honoring Dumbledore's wish of a Hogwarts funeral?"
Titerius sighed before gulping his tea. "I am sorry Amelia. I know you are doing your best, and this is an unprecedented situation that the ministry finds itself in. No, that the entirety of wizarding Britain finds itself in. As for funerals, we go forward with Dumbledore's plans. Unspeakables are stating that the area where Azkaban sat is fragile on the dimensional level. They suspect that Dumbledore's body will fall through any day now. We will hold the funeral then."
Titerius didn't know how correct his timeframe was, as just at that moment a courier knocked on the office door and peeked her head in.
"Minister, Madam, Unspeakables just confirmed that they have recovered the remains of Albus Dumbledore."
The somber office tone rapidly descended into a palpable sadness as Titerius rose from his seat, went to the cabinet on the left side of the fireplace, and removed a stash of firewhiskey. Pouring two glasses, one levitated towards Amelia who snatched it from the air. Silently the two raised a glass to the fallen headmaster of Hogwarts.
Voldemort folded out of the shadows with a hiss of agony, gracelessly stumbling towards the only standing chair. He ignored the unconscious form of Augustus in his room, as he fell into the chair. He fumed as he stared at the burns that littered his arms and legs. While they were healing, the mere fact that they existed annoyed him. The only reason that he even survived Dumbledore's plot was his Shadow Walking. And he already knew that such a thing was lucky, not skillful. To think that this whole time, Dumbledore could have shifted an area the size of Azkaban into another plane entirely… He mentally shuddered at the thought. There was a reason he was weary of facing him.
Mentally, he calculated his losses today. For today was definitely a loss. His faithful had lost a valuable member, with the death of Bellatrix. He was uncertain about the whereabouts of Antonin and Augustus was unconscious. He glanced at his Death Eater. He was breathing, there was minor damage to him, thus he must be exhausted from transporting him through the war wards of Azkaban. He would have to reapply the man's Dark Mark as well. That runic portkey was a one-time use and would have exhausted the mark. He remembered when he designed it with Rookwood and the others. It was originally going to be his method into Hogwarts, but he had discovered that it wasn't stable enough. He wasn't sure what edits Augustus made to make it work, but he would investigate that at a later point.
For now, he would rest and heal. Then he would kill every single person who opposed him as he walked into the Ministry of Magic and took it over before he killed Harry Potter as he took Hogwarts.
It was his destiny, for he was Lord Voldemort.
Arthur Weasley was not a man who shed many tears. He had cried at his father's funeral, and at the birth of his son Bill. He had cried when his daughter was carried out of the depths of the Chamber of Secrets and the horrors of her first year were uncovered. That was the last time he had cried. He was not a screaming man either. He preferred to be pointed and logical, just like his favorite muggles the scientists. Yet there were times that he screamed; when the twins turned Ron's pillow into a spider, giving his youngest son arachnophobia, when Percy made his mother cry by proclaiming that it didn't matter what the previous members of gave wasn't enough, and again when Albus Dumbledore sat him and his wife down after the fifth mind healing session for their daughter during the summer.
He remembered that conversation well because it was the last one that he and his wife had with the headmaster together. Albus had sat behind his desk and looked at his folded hands as Molly laid into him. Berated him about allowing a basilisk to roam the school when he, the greatest wizard of the age, did nothing about it.
After Molly had repeated herself three times, Arthur calmly interjected,"Molly enough." Albus and his wife both looked at him in shock. He hardly ever interjected into Molly's tirades. He locked eyes with the headmaster of Hogwarts.
"Albus, for generations, Weasleys and Prewitts have attended Hogwarts. For the last fifteen years, my children have attended this institution. MY CHILDREN ALBUS!. I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY CHILDREN." He turned swiftly towards Molly, whose mouth was open, "Be silent wife. You have said your piece. It is time for me to say mine." Turning back towards the headmaster, he continued. "My children Albus. You didn't just disrespect me as a man but as a father. You didn't just put my daughter at risk, you put my entire family at risk. It took a twelve-year-old boy and my son to save the day. Again Albus. For the second time, in under a year. THE SECOND TIME ALBUS DUMBLEDORE MY FAMILY WAS PUT AT RISK BY YOUR INEPTITUDE."
Albus softly uttered two words, words that made Arthur take a breath. "You're sorry? I'm sorry Albus. I have worked alongside you for close to three decades. I have disagreed with you before, and I have done so respectfully. I have agreed with you and fought for you politically, personally and physically. I am done doing so. My children will attend this institution because it is tradition, and the staff bearing you is incredible. I have no say in what happens with Harry Potter. He isn't of my brood, but he is now good as. He did what you should have done. He, at twelve years old, earned my family's unending loyalty by doing what Albus Dumbledore should have."
It took them over two years to repair their strained relationship but repair it they did. Thus, when Albus' death was publicized, Arthur was unashamed to say he screamed in anguish and that he cried.
Albus Dumbledore's life and legacy were complicated, but for Arthur Weasley, he had just lost a friend of over thirty years. For Arthur, he had lost a teacher, a mentor, a friend, and a man who had won, lost, and regained his respect and friendship.
Severus Snape was a man who had many talents. He was the premier potion master in the entirety of Europe, a master of Defense, Dark Arts, and the Mind Arts. He was well versed in nearly every avenue in Magic, with at least a baseline of knowledge. Thus, when it was told to him that Albus Dumbledore committed what amounted to suicide via dimensional planar magics, he started to do his research. It was a rare occurrence to discover that he knew little about a magical discipline. Dimensional Manipulation was one such branch of magic. He scoured dozens of tombs and he educated himself as he mourned the man who took him in after his darkest days. He was not a human being after the death of Lily Evans. He did not eat, sleep or move from his home. It was Albus Dumbledore who pulled him from the depths it was Albus Dumbledore who gave him a purpose.
And now Albus Dumbledore is dead. And Severus Snape was lost once more. He glanced at the mantle in his office, an empty frame greeting his gaze.
Albus Dumbledore's funeral was an affair that was attended by over a thousand magicals. The Great Hall of Hogwarts was packed to the brim with people from across the Magical World. People from Asia to America, Britain to Africa and everywhere in between. Represented within the hall, to honor the greatest wizard to come from Magical Britain in over a century, the world sat still for a mere day.
Harry found himself in his robes, white and gold, as per tradition, in the front row. He had a full frontal view of the entire proceedings. The priest that opened the funeral spoke of the magic that life held and that it was this magic that would be given back to the world. Once his rite was completed, the priest opened the floor to those who would speak of the deceased. At once a man with a thick grey, nearly silver beard and eyes the same shade as Albus Dumbledore stood and strode to the podium.
Aberforth Dumbledore stood in front of the crowd of magicals, all attending his brother's funeral. He looked back at the white tomb. A complicated expression flashed on his face before he turned back.
"What many of you may know is my name. I am Aberforth Dumbeldore, and I was Albus' younger brother." The crowd murmured lightly, only stopping as Aberforth continued. "You all know my brother's achievements. I will tell you about his failures. He was a terrible brother to have; a man with more on his shoulders than should be, most self-imposed, and a mind that was graced with brilliance the likes of which is rarely seen. At fourteen, he was capable of magic our father would struggle with. At seventeen, I doubt that there was a wizard in Britain that could match him with a wand. Growing up with that was… difficult. Even without our family's circumstances. Going to this establishment, and hearing professors rave about him, I grew bitter and retreated to help with our family. It was my coping mechanism, and his was brilliance."
His voice grew harsher, his face paling as memories played in his mind. "Then our mother passed. Our sister required more hands-on care… Albus, who had just graduated from this institution, insisted I return… and he would handle our sister Ariana. It worked for a year, and it was the summer of my sixth year, that we met him."
"I know Albus Dumbledore's greatest failure was what happened that summer, and I want it to be clear. He made up for his sins that year a hundred-fold. I was merely too bitter and resentful to accept it. That summer he made an acquaintance in Gellert Grindelwald. An acquaintance that would shape not only his life, but that of the magical world." The crowd was silenced in shock as Aberforth let tears fall from his eyes. "It was a mere four weeks before I returned to Hogwarts for my final year… Grindelwald insisted that Albus leave with him. Albus refused, stating that his family needed him. Words turned harsher, and Ariana… Ariana reacted, her magic violent. Albus protected her from Grindelwald's curse, and they dueled. I jumped in, thinking I would turn the tide, however, my resentment and bitterness towards my brother resulted in a three way duel. A duel that ended my sister's life via an unknown spell." Aberforth rubbed a tear from his eye as he turned back to the tomb that held his brother's remains. "I broke his nose at Ariana's funeral. I then returned to Hogwarts, and ignored my brother. I ignored his apologies, his pleas to me. I ignored him for close to two decades. I was many things.. but during that time, I was not Albus' brother."
Aberforth ran a hand along the smooth marble of the tomb. "He came to me, cornered me really when Grindelwald declared himself at war with the world. I remember that conversation… I didn't say a word as he told me that one day he would have to face him, and that only one of them would walk away from the encounter. I thought that happened that day in 1945 when they dueled… I was wrong."
"Albus Dumbledore was a brilliant man. He was a master of Transfiguration and Alchemy, a professor of Hogwarts, a scholar and a mage of the highest order. He was also a man. He was my brother, and a terrible cook. He was without a doubt the most annoying man I ever met, regardless of what everyone else said. He was easy to gift for; just pick him up some socks and some sweets and he was a happy as a lark. I never said it enough while you were here, but I love you brother. Rest in peace."
Aberforth took his seat, and Nicolas Flamel stood, his white robes hemmed in scarlet. As Nicolas took the podium, he took a shuddering breath. "I have buried more people than I care to count. I have buried my friends, my family, my enemies, and my comrades. One of the worse is when I bury my students. I was one of Albus' teachers, a mentor and I believe, a close friend." Nicolas frowned, before shaking his head. "No, I was not Albus' friend. I never called the boy Albus… I called him Wulfric because I named one of my adopted children Albus. I called him Wulfric, knowing it annoyed him and made him fume… until he accepted it. He accepted a lot of annoyances in his life. It was a trait I admired, and why he made the best professor and headmaster I had ever seen. He cared deeply for those around him, to the point that causing harm was a characteristic he loathed and detested. 'why harm when you can teach?' he asked me during the finalities of the World Wizarding War."
"If my wife was present, she would speak on the many gifts that Wulfric had, that he was a talent of a generation, of an era. She would speak of how his heart wormed its way into our lives. She isn't here though and that in itself is a travesty. So for us both, rest in peace Wulfric."
Several more stood, speaking some words, and sharing experiences that they had with the Headmaster. Finally, Harry stood. Several whispers followed him, as he set a hand on the tomb.
"I have known the Headmaster the least amount of time out of those that have spoken thus far… but I believe I have likely the most in common with him. He was labeled a savior, a hero, a vanquisher of darkness and leader of the light. I am the Boy-Who-Lived and the Storm of Britain. I had several interactions with Albus Dumbledore that, at the time, were confusing and in his brother's words, annoying." A soft chuckle came from the crowd. Harry smiled warily, continuing," He always knew what to say, even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear. In the last two years I was honored enough to grow into the man I am now, all under his watchful eye and, towards the end, his mentorship. During our later sessions, while we would still practice magic, I also asked him questions. Questions that, as someone who had similar burdens, he could solely answer."
Harry sighed, rubbing the marble before turning fully towards the crowd. He looked over their heads, his gaze settling on a cloaked man who leaned against a tree near the Forbidden Forest. He continued to speak, knowing that his words could be heard by all. "I asked him what it was like to duel Grindelwald, knowing that the outcome would change the world. I remember his answer." He remembered the conversation, as it was the last he had with the Headmaster alone.
Albus Dumbledore frowned as he thought of how to answer that question. He stroked his beard and finally sighed. "I am afraid Harry that you will find my answer to be… dissatisfying." His blue eyes matched with green, as he spoke with solemn truth. "I was utterly terrified. I was terrified of facing Gellert, not because I was fearful that I would lose. No, I was terrified because I was afraid I would win. If I won, I would be pressured to kill him. I to this day love that man Harry, and such a burden as killing the one we love, is a hard burden to bear. I am uncertain if I could. That was the most difficult duel I ever partook in. I have crossed wands with Voldemort and more dark wizards than I care to admit, and yet that duel in Germany in 1945 is the toughest duel I have ever fought. I dueled my heart out knowing that it was the only way to save more lives. I dueled to kill and maim and injure. I dueled to survive."
Harry shook his head, clearing the memory. He continued to talk, his voice wavering in emotion. "I will have to duel Voldemort. And that outcome will change the world. I must step into a position that Albus Dumbledore stood in, and that scared me. Albus taught me that courage isn't the absence of fear, but the ability to act regardless. He also taught me that though the darkness encroaches our lives, it is the light of hope that will act as a beacon for others. Rest well Albus Dumbledore, the greatest teacher I have ever known." He drew his wand, knowing he was the last to speak. With a tap, the tomb shimmered in magic. As one, the crowd started to shift away as the tomb slowly began to glow. From the sky, a haunting melody warbled from Fawkes' beak as the phoenix started to sing.
In a rush of heat, the marble tomb erupted in white flames. The phoenix sang louder as it dived through the flames, each pass increasing the heat. The flames would burn for days, until Fawkes finally flew to exhaustion. However, after two hours of socializing, the majority of the crowd would dissipate. Within three, only Harry, Flamel and Aberforth remained along with the cloaked man that never left his post leaning against the tree.
"You two go back to the bar." There was no room for arguments in Harry's voice, as he looked at the cloaked man. The man who was finally moving forward, and being noticed by the other two.
"I think not. I will not allow you to talk to him alone." Flamel growled as he pulled his wand from its holster. Aberforth snarled, drawing his wand and pointing it at the intruder.
Harry forced himself between the other wizards and the cloaked one. "He isn't here to fight. He came to say goodbye, just like us. Allow him to. Go back to the bar. Now." Nicolas looked back at the flames, before looking into Harry's eyes. He nodded and flicked his wand towards' Aberforth. A flash of scarlet, and the remaining Dumbledore crumpled, only to be caught by the alchemist. With strength belying his frame, Nicolas carried Aberforth away.
Harry never took his eyes off the man who stood a mere five feet from him. A wand poked from the left sleeve, swiftly made three circles and disappeared back into the folds of the cloak. A ward of privacy erupted around the pyre and the two, just as the man pulled his hood back.
Gellert looked exhausted. A magical backlash burn cut across his face, its faint purple hue showing its near healed state. His shoulders, normally straight, were slouched slightly. But worse in Harry's opinion were his eyes. Set in the stoic face, red-rimmed and moist, Grindelwald blinked as a tear fell down his right cheek.
"I was sixteen when I first contacted Albus Dumbledore. It was a suggestion from a professor at Durmstrang. My most difficult class was Transfiguration, and Albus was a genius. Already I was nearing mastery of the art, but Albus… Albus could have been a master by then. A year my junior, yet already as lauded as myself. A secret that only two people ever knew… We stayed in touch with letters for two years before meeting that summer in Godric's Hollow. I had been expelled from Durmstrang, and it was mere luck that prevented worse than that from occurring… My family decided I needed a change in scenery. I travelled to Godric's Hollow and met him in person. Awkward, yet charismatic, powerful yet peaceful. A contradiction of walking flesh that I felt a kindred spirit." Harry was silent as Gellert spoke, never taking his eyes off the dark lord. "We travelled all around Britain that summer, but my favorite moment was when we travelled to the Caribbean. We had thought we had a lead on an item we were searching for and found ourselves dueling against a man by the name of Edwin Northon. He was a pirate magelord, ruler of over a dozen crews… it was the toughest fight either of us partook in until that moment. It ended in a draw, with all parties deciding to ceasefire due to nonmagical interference. We fled back to Britain, back to Godric's Hollow and back to the mundane days of taking care of Ariana, plotting, and experimenting with magic." A shuddering breath as Grindelwald continued his tale, looking at the burning pyre of the only man he could call his equal. "I left that Hollow for the last time, knowing that our relationship would ever change. Still, I wrote him yearly. Never telling him my plans or actions, but still communicating. He never responded back. When I declared the World Wizarding War, and he took to the wireless to discredit my claim, I raged. When I took Germany, he wrote me begging me to cease. When I took Paris, he asked me once more to stop. To turn back. By then, my plan was too far along to turn back… I was going to remove the threat of nonmagicals from the magical world, permanently even if it cost the lives of millions. I would swim through an ocean of blood to ensure that we did not have to hide any longer." Gellert tore his gaze from the burning tomb, meeting the eyes of his friend's student."I dueled Albus Dumbledore, in the greatest duel ever witnessed. I lost because I could not bring myself to kill him. Whenever we clashed, I always saw the smiling face of my friend, my equal. I loved Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter. He just loved his morals more than me." The two were silent as the crackling flames of Dumbledore's pyre lit the darkening sky.
"What will you do now Grindelwald. You know that if you attack, I will not hesitate. I am not Albus Dumbledore." Harry spoke softly, knowing that the dark lord in front of him was capable of levelling the castle in the distance just as he was capable of it. The elder of the two nodded.
"I am aware. But I am also aware that you have a higher destiny than just being defeated on this night. And, defeated you would be Harry Potter. You maybe the Dark Lord's Equal, but only one man was mine, and he is no more." Gellert Grindelwald took two steps backward. "I will leave Britain alone for now… out of respect for Albus if nothing else. Deal with your dark lord Harry Potter. And if you ever step foot off British Soil, be ready. When we meet again, should I find you lacking… I will end the Potter line personally." With his piece said, Gellert Grindelwald turned back to the pyre and bowed.
"Goodbye my friend. Thank you."
In a rushing pop of air and a flash of blue, Grindelwald was gone. Harry turned back to the flames, gazing into the fiery depths.
Gellert appeared back in his quarters, stumbling harshly. Sonja quickly grabbed one of his arms, throwing it over her shoulders. "My Lord, you shouldn't-"
"Sonja… shut… up." His breath was labored as the two hobbled towards the chair in his quarters. Shrugging off the cloak, the reality of his condition was shown to the world. His entire body was covered in magical backlash burns, as the runes he had etched into his flesh shifted under the bruising and burns. On his right hand, he was missing his pinky finger from the first knuckle. While he was skilled with runes, they were not meant to be utilized to connect planes in an unstable environment. He and Adrian were the lucky ones, only missing a single digit and some hair respectively. Their third passage however was much worse off; missing an entire leg, she currently was in the process of growing one back. A long process to be sure.
Grindelwald settled into his chair, taking a sip of the beverage beside him. Immediately he watched as his burns healed slightly. "Adrian's blood still fascinates me… but I digress. That visit was necessary. It was required to see the threat that Harry Potter poses to our plans." Gellert rested his head comfortably on the back of the chair, shutting his eyes.
Sonja was silent as she waited, until finally her impatience pushed her to ask, "what is your verdict my Lord?"
"Hmm… He is definitely a threat. He likely is as dangerous as Voldemort, if not more so magically. But what really makes him interesting is something else." Gellert opened his eyes lazily before answering Sonja's unasked question. "He shall be the storm of change this world needs. It will be a mere matter of dictating which he bares witness to my final failure, or my ultimate triumph." A grin crossed his features. "I can't wait to find out…"
It had been so long since Gellert Grindelwald couldn't See the future of someone.
Voldemort smiled as the message that Avery just handed him burned in black flames. "We attack in two hours." He turned swiftly from his followers, striding towards his rooms. It had been three weeks of hard work to get into position, but finally his followers had succeeded. For the first time since Azkaban, the Minister, the Head of the DMLE and the new Headmistress of Hogwarts Minerva McGonagall would be present in the Ministry to discuss the security features for the next school year. He would have opportunity to take all he desired in a single swoop. He gathered the shadows around him, as he sank into a meditative position.
His magic swirled as he mentally and magically prepared himself for his triumph.
Minerva perched her lips as she read over the proposal once more that was handed to her by the Minister. She had taught Odgen Transfiguration, having been in her third year of teaching when he arrived as a first year. She had taught Amelia transfiguration as well, with her being in the same class as Frank Longbottom. Both gifted magical students, now did this.
"This is ridiculous. This proposal would require either my Magical Combat Instructor or a 'person of equal or greater talent' to be always available for Ministry Defense. Thereby leaving my students and the castle weaker in its defense. Are you mad Amelia?" Minerva turned her glare towards the Head of the DMLE. A sigh escaped Amelia before her eyes flicked towards the silent Minister.
"As it stands, Britain is in a dire position. While we cannot order your professors to leave their posts, nor can we ask them to, what we can do is offer an exchange of equivalency. While yes, if Master Flamel were to enter combat for the Ministry, then his presence in the castle would be missed. Thus, we would send a team of four Aurors, one of which would be at least Senior Auror level, to insure the protection of the castle and the students inside."
"Unacceptable. The Ministry's Aurors are not an equivalent exchange for any one of my professors, especially not my magical combat professor. Master Flamel has agreed to stay on to teach, and asking him to do more than that risks him leaving the country all together. As far as the unnamed individual who is merely labeled as the person of equal or greater talent, you should just ask Mr. Potter if he would like to solve your problems for you Titerius instead of trying to force him to with backroom politics."
Titerius' face grew red before he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a glare from Minerva. "I am not Albus Dumbledore. I am not world renowned for defeating a dark lord and holding together a country as another rampaged. No, I am Minerva McGonagall, world renowned as the best transfiguration professor to go through Hogwarts in centuries, the best administrator the school as seen in nearly two centuries and a woman who you will be wise to stop trying to toy with Titerius. I have built a relationship with Mr. Potter and Master Flamel, and as such both will be present in my school for the upcoming year. The fact that you failed to do so when opportunities for such existed is neither my fault, nor my prerogative to fix. Both are not hard to find, any owl with a brain can do so." She lightly tapped the parchment with her wand, modifying the sentences with a mere tap. "I am willing to do this however. I will offer the ability to leave the castle at any time to both of them. However-" The office door slammed open, and a panting Percy Weasley rushed in. He handed a piece of parchment to Amelia before placing his hands on his knees and breathing deeply.
"Shite. Minister, Minerva, one of our spies in the Death Eaters has reported that there will be an attack on the Ministry of Magic."
Titerius sat up straighter in his chair, his wand flicking into his hand. "When Amelia?"
"We have at most thirty minutes."
The Ministry of Magic shook as hundreds of workers swarmed the fireplaces to exit the building, only to discover that the Floo was down, for maintenance according to the Floo Department. Complete hogwash, in Minerva's mind.
She sat calmly in her chair in the Minister's Office, having merely tapped a crystal on a necklace she pulled from under her shirt.
"How are you calm Professor?" Percy asked as he rushed around the office, flicking various parchments into secure locations or into the fire.
"I am calm because I have done my duty. As Headmistress of Hogwarts my first responsibility is my students. I have locked down the Wards of the castle, and none may enter without my approval. Even should I pass today, the Deputy headmaster would immediately have the wards transitioned to him. Remus Lupin is many things, but a traitor is not one." She smiled thinly as she thought of the face the werewolf made when he was offered the administration role of deputy headmaster. Of course, it took nearly an hour to convince him to accept, but accept he did.
Percy nodded, his hair flipping slightly out of its combed place. He idly smoothed it back before pulling his wand out. "I- I was never the bravest of your lions Professor. But I won't let them take the Ministry without a fight."
Minerva nodded, her eyes closing in a moment of sadness. "Percy, you may have made mistakes in your life, as all do. But never doubt for a moment that I am not proud of what you have accomplished since becoming one of my Gryffindors. You were prefect, head boy and now senior undersecretary to the Minister of Magic himself." Minerva stood fluidly, pulling her wand free from its holster before striding towards the door. Percy followed swiftly.
"Let us show them how dangerous us lions are."
Avery panted as he killed the last Auror in the room with a killing curse. As soon as the body fell he pressed a hand against the weeping wound on his side, hissing in pain. He searched the Auror he just killed quickly, knowing that it was standard procedure to carry- there it was. A small vial of Essence of Dittany. A few quick drops and the slash healed on his torso. He quickly searched the other bodies in the room, gathering another vial of dittany and a few pepper up potions and a wand that responded moderately well to him.
Moving quickly, he interacted with a few dozen other Death Eaters, all either in a similar situation as himself, or were in the heat of battle with Ministry Workers. The mid-levels of the Ministry were effectively theirs, however that was always going to be the easy part.
Now all they had to do was move upwards and downwards. The Department of Mysteries was to be the final conquering, with the office of the Minister being the next goal. He gathered several of his fellow Death Eaters and started to make his way to the lifts. Soon, the Inner Circle and their Lord would arrive. And then the Ministry would be theirs.
Rookwood and Dolohov apparated into a warzone. At least that is what it felt like as the two appeared with sudden pops, and immediately shielded against several dozen spells. Antonin barked at a Death Eater cowering behind a makeshift barricade.
"What the hell is going on? We should have been above this floor by now!"
"Lord Dolohov, there is heavy resistance! There are over twenty Aurors behind mass cover."
"Fire Killing Curses then dammit!" Antonin ordered as he raised his wand. He didn't notice Rookwood beside him raise his, but he did feel the rush of magic as a beam of black light drilled through his torso.
"Augustus… why?" Antonin fell forward, blood soaking the floor as Rookwood didn't bother answering, his wand a blur as every single Death Eater and Auror in his path fell to his curses and spells. Under his mask, Rookwood's eyes were clear and focused, and under his robes, the triangle symbol of Gellert Grindelwald set against his heart.
Swiftly, he made his way towards the Department of Magical Education, and swiftly killed the few magicals in the room. He started to go through the various files and records until finally he discovered what needed. Tapping the folder quickly, and dropping a metal disk onto it, he watched as it vanished into a flash of blue. Standing quickly, he started to walk towards the Atrium. He glanced at his bare forearm, where only a scar of the Dark Mark remained. A mistake that tore him from his real purpose, but one that granted him immense knowledge. He still remembered his father's tales about Lord Grindelwald.
Augustus Rookwood tore the robes of the Dark Lord Voldemort off, revealing the sterling white vest of Grindelwald's military. His wand flashed a dozen times as Death Eaters and Aurors alike fell before he finally twisted and with a pop, left Britain entirely.
He appeared exactly where Adrian instructed all those years ago. Before he was branded with the Dark Mark, before he had even met Voldemort, Augustus Rookwood was a mere unspeakable who worked on Adrian Frankenstein deep in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic. He heard the tales of what Grindelwald did from the man that raised him; a man that Augustus was certain didn't know that he was not his biological son. Augustus' mother died in childbirth, taking the secret of Augustus paternity with her. Though there were signs that Augustus wasn't Octavius Rookwood's son. A shorter man, Octavius was easily towered over by his son. The only thing the two shared were their eyes; dark beady eyes that hid intelligence that was frightening. Octavius was a mere sympathizer towards Grindelwald in the mid-forties, never having the courage to fight for him. His wife, a woman named Greta Broshwitck shared similar beliefs and held the conviction to fight.
That was until she fell in love with Jonathan Chung. An orphan werewolf who rose through the ranks of Grindelwald's army until he became a Lieutenant. The man who escaped the ICW within two years of being captured, only to have a wild night with Greta before fleeing towards the Caribbean.
Augustus remembered meeting Jonathan after he discovered his lineage. A man who was old in appearance, and sharp in mind. Chung gave him the truth about his mother, his life and smiled as his son in a fit of rage punched him.
"I am dying boy. I likely will not live to see my Lord freed. But I will gift you all I know." He pushed a book, thick and heavy into his son's hands before walking back into the brush… never to be seen again. Augustus found that it was a diary from the time his father was fifteen until three weeks before meeting him.
By the time he had finished reading the book, He had been branded by Voldemort, but his loyalty was towards Grindelwald. And now, he can prove it.
He knelt before the tall man in front of him, a rod of iron in his hand. "Rise"
The voice was firm, and Augustus obeyed easily. The Iron Angel smiled as he was obeyed before tapping the symbol of Grindelwald proudly displayed around Rookwood's neck. With a shimmer, it twisted into an Iron Cross.
"Come son of Chung. Let us see if you inherited your father's gumption."
Minerva dodged around a killing curse, before beheading the caster with a crane made of swords. Glancing beside her she nodded as Percy removed a Death Eater's wand arm with a well-placed cutting curse. Slowly, they had trudged down through the ministry, with several moments spent cutting down various Death Eater points of heavy occupation. Now, however, it seemed the tide was turning.
"This isn't right Professor," Percy spoke up as the last Death Eater, ran backward at the sight of them. Minerva perched her lips, having noted that this was the fifth time that such a thing occurred.
"I agree Mr. Weasley. Something is wrong here."
"Oh, Minerva McGonagall, I would wholeheartedly disagree." Slowly, Voldemort stepped out of the shadows between two pillars, as if it were a doorway. However, Minerva and Percy both knew that it was a solid wall. His robes were damp with blood and the head of Amelia Bones was firmly held in his right hand. Idly he tossed it aside as if it were trash, before smiling cruelly.
"Now… I think it is time for me to claim my birthright, Minerva. Hand over Hogwarts to me. Or I will take it."
AN: So it was brought to my attention that there is an error in the previous chapter. Fudge of course died previously in the story. Sadly, in my notes, I only had "Minister makes fuss about Rufus. Ambiance/slight immediate foreshadowing" Thus, I wrote Fudge, and it wasn't caught by my beta. Sorry folks. Ill edit it at another time.
As far as this chapter is concerned, there is much happening. More happening out of frame as well. This chapter takes place over the course of a month, and we quickly get to the climax of this portion of the story. Will the Ministry fall to Voldemort? Will Harry interfere? Will Minerva and Percy survive their encounter with Voldemort? We know Amelia didn't...
Find out next time!
Zero