"I cannot believe," Percy Weasley said to Dolores Umbridge, standing in her office, "that Scrimgeour hired my father over you, and then fired you."
"I am just as appalled," said Umbridge crisply.
"I've resigned in protest," Percy said, straightening his shoulders.
Umbridge stopped to smile at him. "How kind of you," she said in her syrupy voice. "But really, you shouldn't have. Without people like you, the Ministry is going to fall to pieces."
This satisfied Percy. "What are you going to do?"
She fastened her satchel. "There's only one place I can go to continue my work."
"I should like to come with you," resolved Percy.
Umbridge considered this. "Would you really?"
"Yes," Percy said stoutly.
"Very well," Umbridge said. "Come along."
"The Prophet is full of good news today," Hermione said, handing a copy of the paper to Harry.
"Dementors disappear," Harry read. "Unspeakables from the Ministry of Magic have led the Dementors through what Department head Paul Croaker called a 'veil of death,' through which they will not be able to pass back into our world. It appears that one of You-Know-Who's weapons has been disarmed."
"Is that the veil?" Ron said haltingly.
"I would assume." Harry folded the paper.
"And look inside," she ordered excitedly.
"Dolores Umbridge fired for threats; Junior Undersecretary Percy Weasley resigns in protest." Harry let out a low whistle. "You were right. Great news."
"Have you asked Slughorn about making the poison yet?"
Harry nodded. "He's going to do it. I reckon he still feels sort of responsible for Voldemort's Horcruxes."
"What was in it, as a matter of interest?" asked Hermione.
"Powdered belladonna berries, ground asphodel root, and dried and crushed wolfsbane."
Hermione gritted her teeth. "Sounds lovely."
"He said he should have it done for me in a few days," Harry told her, "so I can rid the cup of Voldemort's soul and give it to Zacharias' family."
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I'm still a little set off by the fact that we were down in the Chamber, and I was allowed to represent Slytherin. I mean, Melody and Zacharias were there because they were the heirs of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff."
"What about me and Ginny?" Ron asked. "D'you really think--"
"I don't know," Harry said truthfully. "I'm not the heir of Slytherin."
"You could be," Hermione said logically. "What if you were from one line and Voldemort is from another?"
Harry tried to construct a family tree in his mind, but he got a headache in seconds flat. "I don't know, Hermione. As for you, Ron--" He dug his palms into his eye sockets. "Maybe you should research some family history."
"Your family is pureblood," Draco pointed out.
Ron laughed. "I don't think it's going to last. Bill married a part-veela; Charlie has a Muggle-born girlfriend; George is dating that Nickie girl from the Diagon Alley store, who has Muggle parents; and it looks like my sister is going to marry a half-blood." He grinned at Harry.
"What about Percy?" Harry said, as a matter of interest.
"I don't think he counts as a member of the family anymore," Ron said airily, "and even if he was looking for a wife, it looks like he has a part-demon, part-toad."
They laughed.
The village of Hogsmeade was home to many spectacular and frightening places, such as Draco's hollow tree and the Shrieking Shack. But on the edge of Hogsmeade sat the real threat of the village, a dirty little house on the north end of the village. No one assumed it was unused-- an angry-looking tabby cat could be seen stalking the grounds, owls frequently came and went, and the gaunt, bony face of an older woman appeared at the window now and then. Everyone assumed it was an old, reclusive witch who inhabited the house-- those who had seen her face might have thought twice about her harmlessness. But no one guessed who she really was.
"Dolores," Bellatrix Lestrange greeted her. "Won't you come in?" She eyed Percy suspiciously. "Who's your guest?"
"Percy Weasley," Umbridge replied, leaving her satchel and gloves in the foyer.
"Weasley?" Bellatrix's voice was suddenly sharp.
"He's not like his family," Umbridge said dismissively. "He will be loyal. Where is the Dark Lord?"
Percy's heart skipped a beat. He was in a house with Bellatrix Lestrange, and Dolores Umbridge was talking about Voldemort with reverence.
But then again, perhaps Umbridge was right. Fudge had never liked Dumbledore, and Scrimgeour seemed to be heading things in the wrong direction. Voldemort did hate Dumbledore. And he was against Harry Potter, whom Fudge thought was clinically insane.
Maybe they all have it wrong, Percy thought. Maybe Dolores is right.
"You work at the Ministry," Avery squeaked, coming around the corner.
"I knew it," Bellatrix growled. "Crucio!"
Avery leered. "You're that rotten, smug..."
"Stop it!" Umbridge shouted. "Finite incantatem."
"I quit today," he went on, "after Scrimgeour hired my incompetent dunderhead of a father as his advisor. The Ministry, you know-- all they do is kiss the arse of Harry Potter. It's like a cult." He struggled to get to his feet, and stumbled. "Well, I'll tell you. You lot are making more and more sense these days." He drew himself up straight and looked squarely at Bellatrix.
Bellatrix regarded him with a suspicious eye. "Why should I trust you?" she demanded. "They could be placing you here as a spy."
Percy swayed, then drew his wand. Immediately, every Death Eater in the room pointed theirs at the red-headed intruder. Slowly, as if he didn't even see them, he poked it into his forearm.
"Morsmordre," he said calmly, and fainted.
The third-eldest Weasley woke in a sparsely-furnished, dark, shabby little house. Slowly, the room and the faces filling it came into focus; he saw a dusty gold chandelier, a faded pink armchair, the head of a cane; he saw Crabbe and Goyle, Umbridge, Bellatrix.
"Where am I?" he croaked.
"Hawkthorne," Bellatrix told him.
He arched an eyebrow. "This place warrants a name?"
"Careful, Weasley," warned Natalya, lying her wand at his throat.
"Sorry."
"You'll have to prove yourself, you know," Bellatrix snarled.
"Put me under the Cruciatus Curse," Percy puffed vehemently. "Will that prove my loyalty?"
Natalya smiled smoothly. "She may do that just because she enjoys it, flame-hair."
Percy let his eyes drink in the sight of Natalya's fine bones and muted coloring. "What about you?"
A wicked grin replaced her smooth smile. "There are things worse than torture."
"My protege," Bellatrix fondly remarked. "Natalya."
Percy made a mental note.
"You will be loyal to the Dark Lord, then?" Bellatrix still seemed skeptical.
"Teach me, and I will kill for him." Percy's mouth was set in a thin line.
Natalya's smile returned. "We think as one, flame."
It was no longer an insult. Percy returned the smile.
Lord Voldemort entered the room then, inspecting his new recruit. "A Weasley," he said wispily. "Do you know-- Dolohov here was the one who murdered your uncles, I believe."
"Good," Percy spat. "My whole family; nothing but blood traitors and trash."
"My, Dolores," Voldemort said, "you have brought me something this time."
Umbridge smiled proudly from her pouf in the corner.
Voldemort swooped down. "Do you know how to do Dark Magic, boy?"
"No," Percy said lamely.
"We shall teach you," came the response, and Umbridge came to Percy's side.
"Come," she said in her sugar-sweet voice, and led him into the other room.
Voldemort took Lucius aside. "I have been weakened lately," he said quietly.
"My Lord?" Lucius said.
"I fear," Voldemort said quietly, "that Potter has destroyed another fragment of my soul."
Lucius stood quietly.
"Kill him," seethed Voldemort. "Kidnap his friends. Torture them. Do what you must. But he has to be stopped."
"In that vein," Umbridge said, returning to the room, "I have found your son."
Lucius stared. "What?"
"He is at Hogwarts," said Umbridge. "Seemingly--" her voice piqued-- "quite friendly with Harry's friend Hermione Granger."
"The Mudblood?" Lucius was irate.
Voldemort bared his teeth. "It falls to you, Lucius."
Lucius' face tightened. "I'll bring our legions down on Hogwarts. And then I'll kill them all myself."