James walked through the crowd, trying to ignore the dull throb from the side of his face. Today was the day his bandages finally came off and it was almost as if the damn wound was trying to make the most out of its brief time remaining. Strangers in smart robes jostled his shoulders as he made his way through. A mindless press of bodies ambling in the same direction. Nobody spoke to each other. Nobody looked anywhere but blankly ahead.
James yawned into his fist and decided that so far, his day was going pretty terribly.
His head was still cloudy from being shaken out of bed by his father. A bite of toast and splash of cold water to the face had been all the time he had before he rushed into the floo. And now he found himself ambling through the morning commuters stuck in the zombie state of early morning life, halfway between drunken numbness and brooding, mindless misery. God he missed his pillow.
He followed the river of black, formal robes past the floos towards the Main Atrium. The cold stone walls around him reverberated with the muted thunder of hundreds of commuters.
What must it be like to do this everyday? The same monotonous trudge, every day identical. It was funny, James thought, how people stuck themselves in the same patterns day in day out. Staying inside their safe, easy comfort zones. It was human nature to stick with what you know - creatures of habit and all that. At least, it was that way for everyone else. James could never have said that he felt the same. He had never understood the comfort of routine, and the idea of playing anything safe was mind-boggling to him.
He had never had that little voice of comfort. He was happiest when he was stepping off the ledge, not knowing what was going to happen next. Everything else, routine, safety, it all seems so… dull. These people probably ate the same breakfast every morning, sat at the same seat on the Knight Bus or whatever, took the same entrance into the building, probably knew each guards name. It worked in little ways too. People picked the same locker, the same chair, the same walks and paths. A hundred little ways they could tie their days together in a comforting cycle, enjoying the familiar little islands they passed by again and again in the sea of life.
To James they might as well have been members of a different species. He was much happier to be caught in the storm, the only time his feet touching land when he was planning his next dive.
The crowd parted ahead. They were stepping around a large area of the floor, almost as if there was an invisible dome in the middle of the marble slabs. He waved his hand in front of him. Nope, nothing but empty air. The witches and wizards paid the area no mind, not even so much as a glance. None of them were even looking in its direction. Was this…?
Ah.
This was where Lucius Malfoy had been forced to kill himself. Him and a bunch of Purifiers. The floor had been cleaned to a polish so there was no trace of what had happened, but everyone still walked around as if there was still blood pooling across the tiles.
James glanced left and right as he stepped out of the line and across the bare marble floor. Lord Noctis had stood on this spot, wearing the body of Lucius Malfoy. He had forced the old Purifier the blow his own brains out right here, along with a half dozen others. Horrible, of course, but in all honesty James could think of worse ways to announce yourself to the world. He still hated the Purifiers for all the atrocities everyone had suffered under the last few years. All the raids, all the killings, the terror, the attack on Hogwarts that nearly took his face. For Albus…
All he could see - all anyone could see - in the days ahead were darkness and fear. People didn't talk about it. For now they still went to work and lived their lives as normal. But the truth was right here, in the wide open space in the Atrium crowds. People were scared. They tried to ignore it but everyone knew what was coming. Another war, like the one his father had fought.
And they had lost so much already.
Did this Noctis character really have something to do with what happened to Albus? His quiet little idiot brother, lying all but dead in his room back home.
He had to do something about it, he owed his brother that.
Up ahead the crowd gradually congealed into queues, and the queues slowed to stopping. New security measures. Bit late, but at least something was being done. People entering the Ministry were forced to stand within marked circles and be scanned before they could enter the rest of the building. All across the line wizards waved their wands over bored looking workers while briefcases and files were searched.
James had never had much time for the Ministry as a whole. It had always irked his inborn disdain for authority, and James viewed authority with the same dull distaste as he did rushed toast breakfasts and cold morning commutes. Sure there were plenty of people here who actually made a difference, but James had grown up with a behind-the-scenes look at the Ministry workings, and so much of it always just seemed like pointless bureaucracy.
Still, at least he didn't seem to be the only one was having a crappy morning. Off to the side of the queues tall, extremely unfriendly looking guards scowled into the crowds as if the people within owed them money. They looked even less enthusiastic to be here than he did.
Aaand now the pace of his delightful morning adventure had slowed of a snail's pace. Wonderful. He really wished he didn't have to be here so early but his dad had been stubborn on that point. He was going to sign James in and out. He was giving him two hours to make his stab at getting some answers before taking him home, like he was a criminal on parole. It was annoying, but after their argument this morning James had been left very little room to negotiate.
His turn came to be checked and he stepped into the circle. He smiled at the wizard waving him down. "Just warning you guys, I had a lot of coffee this morning." He put up his hands, "Cavity search at your own peril."
The security guard, a shaved-headed ape of a man glared at him suspiciously. James looked back. Few things made his mood better than winding people up, and a grumpy half-troll looking guard was staring at James like he had just pissed in his oatmeal.
"Am I wearing something you own, mate?"
The man blinked in confusion, but before he could respond James was cleared by the security wizard. He walked past him with a grin he didn't feel but knew would get under the man's skin. He saw the beginnings of a scowl as he passed.
Bit better.
Queues and check ins. Security sweeps and time stamps and etiquette. James always hated coming here. The whole placed reeked with the air of bland professionalism and obedience. It was a place for authority.
This had better be worth it.
Finally he was through. Up ahead he could see Uncle Ron's red hair through the crowd, as he got closer he saw that his dad as well. Both of them were waiting by the elevators as they agreed before. They looked up from their conversation as he approached.
"James," Ron smiled, "And how are we this fine morning, little man?"
"Tired," he yawned, "Can we get this over with?"
His father watched him with the same frown James had been seeing so much of lately. "The Department of Magical Transportation is on the fourth floor. I'm going to pick you up right here in two hours. Are we clear?"
"Yeah, we're clear." On any other day James would have probably argued with his father, or asked for more time. Although he wanted to by sheer knee jerk reaction, it was probably better if James didn't piss off his dad anymore than he already had. Things had headed south since Cliffcoat, enough that his dad had to attend a hearing this morning. Harry had assured the family it was more of a formal review than anything, but that didn't stop him from being grumpy with everyone.
Even so, he met his father's piercing gaze and an uncomfortable silence settled. They had been arguing more and more recently. Even now the tension hung between them like a bad smell. It was as if a wall had been put up between them that neither were willing to break through.
"Ah," Ron said awkwardly, "Well… I'm just gonna go on ahead and… yeah..." He trailed off as he glanced back and forth between the two. Without another word he gingerly turned and walked into the waiting elevator.
When Harry spoke his voice was terse, less James's father and more the Ministry's Head Auror. "Transport's up on the fourth floor."
"Got it."
"Go up, have your meeting and get back down here. Wait for me and Ron until we get back."
"Ok."
Harry's bright green eyes didn't move, "Wait for us here," he repeated, "Don't go anywhere."
"I got it, dad."
"I'm not in the mood for any nonsense today, James. The last month has been bad enough without…"
"Without what?"
It was pointless trying to provoke his dad into having the same fight. James knew that. But he couldn't help himself, he was still sore about it.
Harry's voice could have frozen water, "I'm not in the mood today," he repeated.
"I'm going upstairs to the fourth floor to Transport, having a short conversation and coming back down," James said, "I don't need to be treated like I'm on leave from Azkaban, dad."
His dad opened his mouth to say something but stopped. After a second he spoke again, "Then prove it. I'm going to pick you up here in two hours. No trouble."
James watched him close the grill and descend the elevator. He could tell where his old man was coming from, but that didn't stop the animosity from simmering inside him.
"Whatever you say."
XXXXX
The Ministry Travel Offices were in a state of utter chaos, more like a battleground than an office. It took James a few seconds to realise that this was how it was supposed to look, and not that the ministry witches and wizards were being assaulted by legions of angry memos and enchanted household objects.
The ceiling was high and the walls dotted with alcoves which presumably led off to other offices. After hours it was probably a well lit and spacious room, but now the letters and enchanted objects filled the air with the dull roar of thousands of rustling papers, blotting out light and obscuring anything over head height. As it was, the room felt cramped and claustrophobic, which was made worse by the fact that almost every inch of floor space was dotted by teetering stacks of paper, haggard looking workers and people rushing back and forth with bizarre looking objects in their hands. Several times he nearly tripped or knocked over something important looking. Stupid face-covering bandages. That was the thing with depth perception, you never realised how useful it was until you lost it.
He stepped past a bright yellow sign as he walked into the din. Watch your head or lose it. Cute.
Ducking under low flying memos and stepping around carts of glowing stones, James navigated his way through the warzone until he caught sight of the person he was here to see. Katherine.
For some unknown reason they had given her a desk, but like the rest of the workers here she was standing up and waving her wand about like she was trying to fight off swarms of angry bats. Notices and orders slotted neatly into pigeon holes and tubes in the ceiling above, before being either carried off by owls or being sucked away by unseen winds.
The desk itself was in disarray, sheets of parchment and odd whistling devices chirped and buzzed as if crying for attention. There wasn't a single space that wasn't occupied. Even her nameplate was partially covered by a spread of report forms. James was barely able to read it; Katherine Howl, Junior Interdepartmental Assistant.
"The Ministry must really hate their assistants."
The poor girl nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. She spun around, eyes wide and unkempt hair flying.
"James!" she gasped, "what are you doing here?"
There were lines under her dark brown eyes and she looked as overworked as the rest of the poor people in the department, but James could see what Nathan saw in her, even if his old friend refused to talk about it. Curly brown hair fell about a heart shaped face in a tangled mess, obscuring her face and making her as nondescript as possible. But the girl was a looker, despite how much she seemed to hide it.
Even so she never seemed to show much interest in relationships. Merlin knew she had turned him down pretty bluntly when he had asked her out in sixth year.
"Actually, I'm here to see you."
Katherine's eyes widened, giving her a distinctly owlish look. "Me? I don't-"
A heavy looking envelope shot out of the surrounding chaos towards the back of her head. With barely a glimpse she had already picked it out of the air and laid it across the desk. She unravelled it with her wand, occasionally flicking at the brightly coloured memos and notes whizzing overhead.
"Oh that's right," she frowned as she worked, peeking up at him every few words, "The attack."
"Wait, you-"
"Not that it's not nice to see you, of course," she continued, "but I don't have a lot of time to chat. If my boss sees you here…"
She cringed over her shoulder, but James couldn't make out what she was looking at through the mess.
"Sorry. I'll be as quick as possible… Nice catch by the way."
"Huh?" she turned back to look at him.
"The parcel..." He indicated the envelope she had unravelled across her table - an envelope which should have been wedged into the back of her skull. Katherine could have been a Seeker, no problem. Maybe even given him a run for the cup. But James knew the quiet, bookish Ravenclaw was much too timid for it. She had always been much more for the quiet of the library, avoiding crowds and keeping out of the way.
"Oh. Right" She said it like it was no big deal. James wondered how much she was getting paid for a job like this; and whether all Ministry internships were so gruelling.
"So you know why I'm here?" he asked.
"Yeah, Nathan told me you might stop by." She ran her wand over what looked like a set of origami birds, which promptly took off and rose into the mad jumble above. Again, she looked over her shoulder.
"Ah right. You two still keeping in touch?"
"Yeah, on and off," she turned back to her table, not looking at him.
"That's cool. How's your old man?"
Her face fell.
"Oh. Um. Yeah he's fine I guess. We haven't really spoken in a while" She peered up at him, looking embarrassed. "More of the same..."
"Ah."
Shit.
All of a sudden the mood died. In trying to make conversation he had grasped for the nearest familiar topic.
James you arse.
Professor Howl had never been popular with Hogwarts' students. The Charms master had always been strict, arrogant and demanding to the point of spitefulness. But all the students knew they had it easy compared to the man's daughter. The truth of that had come to everyone full force in their seventh year. That had been one of the most uncomfortable meals of his life. How could he have forgotten?
"Look I'm sorry, I-"
"Don't worry about it." She waved her hand briskly as she peered down at her desk.
"Ok…Well…" He recollected himself, "Look I'll try and make this quick. The reason I'm here is I wanted to ask you about the attack. I know you were fighting that night..."
Again her head darted his way. He had forgotten how she had always looked frightened, like a startled rabbit. The image of her battling through the corridors of Hogwarts was obscene.
"Uh huh," she nodded.
"Look, just think back. Please. I don't know what Nathan told you, but Albus… We think he was with your group that night. He was probably under an Invisibility Cloak so-"
"You have an Invisibility Cloak?" she looked up, eyes bright and eager.
"Um, yeah," he said, trying not to stumble over the interruption, "Family heirloom. But that's-"
"That's fascinating," she muttered. She had turned back to her work. "Do know how rare Invisibility Cloak's are these days? Ever since the ban on Demiguise hunting in 1893-"
"Katherine." James didn't mind Katherine's interruption, but talking about his little brother had left him in no mood to indulge her.
"Right. Sorry," she half turned back to him before something on the unravelled parcel caught her eye. She threw her arms up in the air with a cry of anger. "Dammit! The template is completely off. This is going to need to be completely redone before Muggle Artefacts take a look at it."
She looked up at him. "Sorry..."
"No, it's fine," he said, forcing a smile over his frustration. "I'm the one who's intruding."
She gave a half smile and began etching her wand over the parchment in a complicated pattern. "You were saying?"
"Albus was under an Invisibility Cloak so you might not have seen him, but can you think of anything that-"
She cut him off with a cringe. "I'm sorry James. I gave it some thought when Nathan told me you were asking. I don't remember seeing any sign of your brother."
She waved off the parcel with an elaborate loop of her wand and it flew up into an overhead tube. Without pause, a series of brightly coloured wellington boots flew out of nowhere and hovered above her desk, chirping loudly for attention. James's heart fell with the all too familiar feelings of disappointment and resentment.
"Broken," she muttered, "Again. Typical. If you want something done right the first time don't bring it to Drabble. In fact, better to just keep it out of his reach until-"
"My brother is lying comatose in a bed, Katherine. Could you give it more than 'some thought'?" he snapped.
The change in her expression was immediate. Where she had looked annoyed and authorative she now looked like a scolded child. It took him a second to recognise it as the look he had always associated with her in their time at Hogwarts.
"I'm sorry James," she said, "I really have thought about it, but we were fighting for our lives. I wasn't paying attention to any invisible footsteps or breath or anything like that, I mean it's not like-Oh come on!" she cried as one of the boots started glowing red, "This is the third time this week! If the man can't manage a simple Onerariis charm then there's no reason for him to-"
"Katherine." He knew she was busy, but it didn't help make him feel any less irritated. Her attention snapped back to him.
"Right. Look James, what to you want me to say?"
"Fine, I'm not asking if you saw Albus, or even if you saw a sign of him." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, feeling flushed, "I'm asking if you saw anything out of the usual. Anything strange. Anything. Anything that might have indicated my brother was with you."
"Something unusual? The school was being raided by Purifiers."
"You know what I mean." His blood was rising.
"I don't remember anything that might mean you brother was with us. He might have been with us, but I didn't see him. I didn't see anything that would've meant he could've been there."
"Is that what you've come to," he asked, "after giving the matter 'some thought'?"
He felt lightheaded. She wasn't looking at him. She had already waved off the boots and now had another long sheet of parchment on her table, which she was studying. "Look James I don't know what you want from me…"
"What I want is for you to take five seconds to give a shit that for all intents and purposes my little brother is fucking braindead!"
The last word came out with a burst of venom. Anger for all the weeks of waiting and worrying and doing nothing, spat out in frustration.
The wave of red surged down from his vision. His heart returned from his throat to his chest. Katherine was staring wide eyed at him, her face a picture of shock and fear.
"James…"
She looked down. He followed her gaze.
A hand was wrapped around her wrist. White knuckled. Painfully tight. His hand.
Oh no.
"Shit," he yanked his hand away as if it was on fire. "Shit. Katherine I-"
He hadn't even realised he had done it. It was as if someone had moved him without him knowing. All at once his frustration evaporated. Shame rolled in to take its place.
Shit.
Shit.
When had he gotten so angry, so violent? Ice water rushed through his veins.
"I didn't mean to- Oh shit Katherine I'm sorry." He stopped himself from approaching, unsure of what to do. Katherine was watching him warily like he might lash out again. The sight of it made him feel sick.
"You're upset," she muttered, her eyes downcast. Her hand was wrapped over her hurt wrist. "I was being insensitive."
"No!" James cried. Merlin, anything but that. "No, no, that's not- I just- I've been-"
What could he say? Apologising was too small. He had crossed a line without realising he had done it. There had been no moment of decision, only a blind step forward that he couldn't undo. No one else in the office seemed to have noticed through all the din. But it had happened. He had hurt her, the timid little bookworm from his classes who he had always felt vaguely sorry for. He was a monster.
He had to say something. Anything. He-
"I think you should go…" she said.
"You…"
Relief and terror hit him in equal measure. He gaped like a fish, looking for something to say. He wanted to get away - to flee and forget this had happened. But he wanted to stay as well. To make sure she was ok and to apologise and explain. But words seemed to have failed him. His tongue felt three sizes too big, and his mind was too busy processing what had happened it might as well have shut down.
"You want me to-"
"To go, yeah. I'm probably already in trouble for you being here… I… Just go. Please?"
He took a step backwards, and found his feet continuing without him thinking about it. Her eyes hadn't left him.
He told himself it was better for her; that she was asking him to leave. But he knew he was running away. "Right. Sorry. God, I'm sorry Katherine."
James fled back through the mad din of the Travel offices until he reached the entrance. He stepped into the dimly lit corridor beyond.
Shit.
XXXXX
Harry had considered giving James more of a talking to, but it seemed like it would do more harm than good. His son was in a bad mood this morning, and that was one thing they in common. He hadn't slept well again last night, and this morning had done nothing to lighten his mood.
XXX
"Wake up" he said, throwing the covers off his eldest son.
James made a noise partway between a whimper and a growl and tried to roll over back into the warmth of his covers. When he found that they were off the bed entirely he opened one bleary eye at Harry.
"C'mon. We're leaving in ten minutes."
James voice was a low mumble, "Wha…?"
"I know that you've been leaving the house."
Now he had his son's full attention.
James sat up in place, rubbing his good eye with his fist. His face was stoic, but Harry could tell he was wondering whether to lie or to own up to what he'd done.
"What're you talking bout?"
Lie then.
"I know you've been leaving the house James," he repeated, resisting the urge to grit his teeth, "I've checked the wards and I know you used the floo. I'm not an idiot. You went to see one of your friends."
James was as still as a statue, still looking at him.
"I suppose I'm partly to blame, I told you to ask questions about Albus and what happened that night. But dammit I thought you would be smart enough to realise that things have changed." He pulled James's clothes out of the drawers, throwing them onto the bed. "It's not safe anymore. So you're coming into the Ministry with me today. You can find Katherine, maybe Alistair if you're lucky, ask them about Albus and then get this out of the way, out of your system. The family has been through enough without you selfishly putting yourself in more harms way."
James leapt out of bed, now wide awake.
"Selfish?" he spat, "You think I'm being selfish?"
"I think that-"
"What's so selfish about wanting to find out what happened to Al? Or have you stopped giving a shit?"
Harry bit his tongue before he could chide James's language. He knew his son better than the boy knew himself - James was trying to draw him into a fight. Calling him out would just make the argument worse. "This isn't a game, James. There are people out there trying to hurt us. They already have hurt us. You running off on your own is a sure fire way to make this worse."
"You don't think I'll find anything." It wasn't a question. James voice was bitter, laced with accusation.
"I never said that."
"But you're not denying it."
Harry paused, a pair of socks in his hand. He tossed them to James, who snatched them out of the air.
"Get dressed," he said as he walked out the door, "I'm leaving in five."
XXX
James. Harry loved his eldest son more than he knew, but Merlin knows that boy could be a pain in the ass. Harry was sure his heart was in the right place, but James never took the time to consider things from any perspective but his own. He thought he was helping Albus by going out and looking for answers, but he simply refused to think about just how much danger he was putting himself in. He thought Harry was working against him on that. Couldn't he see that everything Harry was doing he was doing for the family?
He found Ron waiting at the end of the hallway looking apprehensive. Harry had expected that he would feel the same, especially since he was already five minutes late, but his son was taking up so much room in his head he was having trouble to find the time to stress about anything else.
"You wanna talk bout it?" Ron asked as Harry approached.
Harry paused at the door. He appreciated the thought, but he felt the need to deal with the issue of James himself. "No. Thanks."
He pushed open the door and they walked through. They were immediately swallowed by darkness of a much larger room. The faint sound of hushed voices faded quickly into silence as they walked in. Ron gave Harry a curt nod before turning off into the gloom of the poorly lit chamber. Harry continued to a well lit spot in the very centre of a semi circle of raised seating. His skin prickled with the stares of dozens of eyes. Strange, he had been here countless times, but the circumstances of this occasion made the room feel grand and menacing.
The Wizengamot.
The most powerful members of magical Britain come together to form the high court of law in the country. Harry was one of the members, but today he wouldn't be amongst them in the high aisles, arguing and bickering over the point of law. No, today he was to sit in the centre. Today he was to be judged in a manner that reminded him of a much darker time.
He almost let himself smile at the memory. At least Umbridge wasn't around anymore.
He was younger than most of the other member by about forty years, but it was never as apparent to him as now. From the isolated centre of the room their peering faces carried an air of stern disapproval and authority, like fifty Madam Pince's frowning down at him as he brought in a late book.
He looked to see Ron joining Lewis, Kingsley, Liddling and Finch-Fletchley off to the side in a small enclosure of their own. They were all dressed in formal robes and standing at strict attention. Finch-Fletchley still looked peaky but managed to give Harry a weak smile.
It was good that he was up. The basilisk may have only turned out to be a boggart, so it's gaze could only petrify, but it had been a close call whether the man would be recovered enough to attend the proceedings. The fact that he was here was a small show of strength, as it were. Harry placed himself in the centre of the chamber, skin prickling in the cold, still air of the room.
"Ah," a reedy voice called from above, "Now that Mr Potter and Mr Weasely have deigned to join us, it looks like we can finally begin."
A tall, bony man in his sixties peered over the edge of a lectern. He was dressed in Wizengamot robes like the rest of them, with only the glimmer of golden jewellery and the emblem stamped into his robes to mark him as a judicator.
Caiphus. They had chosen William Caiphus to be the judicator.
Bugger.
"This meeting of the Wizengamot has been called, in light of recent events, to determine a most important matter," the old man called from his lectern, "The matter of whether Harry Potter, the current Head of the Auror Division and Thirty Fourth chair of the Wizengamot, should remain in charge of the investigation into Lord Noctis…"
He looked down and locked eyes with Harry, the ghost of a smile crossing his wizened face, "…And whether he should be made to step down from his position as Head Auror."
What?
Harry's heart skipped a beat. This was supposed to be a review! A formal hearing on his actions during Cliffcoat, not a trial on whether or not he should stay on as Head Auror. He looked over at Ron and the others. Their horrified faces looked back, just as surprised as he was.
Harry had been prepping for the hearing since Cliffcoat - it was expected that he'd have to answer for what had happened, and he had thought a trial in the Wizengamot would be the worst case scenario. But Caiphus? How the hell had the old zealot secured the role as judicator? That Harry and the man couldn't stand each other was hardly a secret within the Wizengamot. After stopping his bill to expand Wizarding jurisdiction into Goblin and Centaur provinces Harry knew the man was after his blood. And now it looked like he might just get it.
He scanned the darkened rows of his fellow Wizengamot members above him, barely more than silhouettes. He hadn't prepared for this. He had expected a review to be rigorous, even scathing. The times called for it, he could understand that. But Harry knew he was the best person for the job, the best suited to deal with this problem. He was confident he could come away from this intact. But this was different. Harry wouldn't put it past Caiphus to ensure he obtained the position just so he could get the chance to do Harry some serious damage. Caiphus couldn't get him off the Wizengamot, not with this. But losing him the position of Head Auror? That would leave him reeling.
It was disgusting, making a political play at a time like this. He peered keenly at the darkened figures above, desperate to find any information. How had Caiphus pulled this one off? Who had betrayed him?
Caiphus cleared his throat as he turned over a sheet of parchment. His movements were slow, ordered, but Harry knew him well enough to tell the old bureaucrat was brimming with eagerness.
"Now led us begin with the formalities," he said ponderously, "Harry James Potter, appointed to the Auror Office, despite not sitting any NEWTS, at the age of eighteen; displayed a proficiency that allowed you to rise through the ranks to become Second to Gregory Burndred at the age of twenty five. Succeeded him as Head Auror only two years later, the youngest Head Auror in Ministry history. Impressive."
Harry met his gaze but didn't respond. What was Caiphus trying to do here?
"Your feats as Head Auror are well documented," he said, turning over his pages slowly, "Radical departmental reform through your early years, stopping Herpo's Cauldron from detonating beneath Mottershead in December 2008, slaying Gwendolyn the Traveller in June 2009, representing Britain at the Ash Summit of 2010, decoding the Bahomett two months later in 2011, defeating Hollander Knibbs in single combat in the summer of… 2013…decisively bringing an end to the underground Horcrux market in October…" he paused as he turned another page, "2015… uncovering the Seelie plot in April…2017…"
Ah, so that's it.
"And then in the summer of 2018, we have the Incident at Diagon Alley - six dead, thirty injured, eight homes destroyed - what would come to be known as the first Purifier Raid. Here we see you slipping, Mr. Potter. Measures to bring those responsible to justice are met without success; The Purifier movement grows exponentially over the next four years. Dozens of raids, hundreds killed, families torn apart. Your inquiries and counter raids yield li-"
"You're saying that I'm not the Auror I used to be."
Caiphus's eyes lit with anger, but he did not meet Harry's stare. Instead he looked off into the empty air. "You will have more than enough time to speak your case as you are well aware Mr. Potter, do try and keep the interruptions to yourself." An indignant teacher reciting regulation for an unruly student. He had put a lot of planning into this. He picked accomplishments that he could space out as the years went on; make it look like Harry was waning. Then he could drag out the Purifier affair until-
"The failure to adequately contain the threat of Halstead Rosier and the Purifiers culminated in the attack on Hogwarts on the 20th of June 2022. In this attack the staff and students, some of whom not yet of age, fought valiantly without any aid from the Ministry or the Auror Division. You yourself were conducting a foray into an alleged Purifier holdout." The slightest smirk crossed his face, "Which turned out to be yet another false lead. And it was upon hearing the news of the attack you went to Hogwarts yourself; without contacting the Ministry or assembling the Auror Division…as was your job."
Harry had to keep from gritting his teeth. The worst part was that Caiphus had him on that front. The Purifiers hadn't been stupid. Word of the attack hadn't reached the outside world until it was all but over. When he had gotten the news from Hermione, both Harry and Ron had apparated straight to Hogsmeade. He hadn't even thought about contacting anyone at work. He had chosen being a father over an Auror that night, a choice he made much too late.
"As it was you were only able to catch the end of the fighting, when most of the Purifiers were either dead or captured, and Rosier himself was incapacitated."
Incapacitated?
Caiphus pulled off his glasses and peered at Harry down his nose. "You were spared a trial after that debacle, Mr Potter, as many felt it was enough that the problem was taken care of. The Purifiers were finished and our problems were over. But it wasn't over, as you well knew." He put his glasses back on and went back to his papers, "Two days after the attack you formally requested a contingent of Aurors to start investigating the nature of whatever foul magic had eliminated Rosier. This was despite the official Ministry ruling that Rosier had been betrayed by his own people when the battle was lost. A fair ruling, as who else could perform such a dark curse but one of Rosier's minions?"
A cop out, and Caiphus knew it.
"But the contingent had another purpose behind it, didn't it Mr. Potter? One that you chose to keep to yourself until it was too late. Until seven men and women were forced to execute themselves in front of a crowd of unarmed civilians not five minutes from where we sit now! You suspected there was a wizard out there who had intervened where you failed and stopped Rosier. One with access to dark and terrible magic, who now holds our country in a grip of fear while barely lifting a finger! You did nothing to stop them, nothing to warn the rest of us. You let this country fall into disaster and panic by allowing this to happen. Your oversight, your arrogance from your many successes, allowed a Dark Lord to rise under all our noses. One we know nothing about!" Harry could actually see the fervour in his eyes now. "Oh but he knows all about us! The information this Lord Noctis has on our inner workings is indeed frightening, if he can just look in and find such corruption in our own garden. Corruption we are still scouring for! Corruption you should have been stamping out! Public faith in the Ministry is plummeting." He shook his head, "All your work and all your reforms… it is a sad day indeed when the Ministry's Undesirable Number One is doing a better job than its own Head Auror!"
The last words came out in a bark of anger, echoing around the still air of the chamber. Above him, Harry could hear murmuring among the rest of the Wizengamot. This was not good.
"Ah yes," the man sneered as he turned another page. He could smell blood in the water. "Now…Cliffcoat." He said the word as if it was an insult. "What better way to prove my point. This was your first engagement with this Lord Noctis. The public, the ministry, everyone was looking to you. The Boy Who Lived, the one who killed You-Kno…" he caught himself, "…Lord Voldemort." He coughed briefly and irritably sorted out the papers in front of him. "You had the entire support of the Auror Division at your fingers, and what was the result?
"It's not that-"
"You failed Mr Potter. It's as simple as that. The casualties, the damage to property… Even now, you have not yet recovered. Your wounds were severe were they not? We have the reports on record. Your first engagement, Mr Potter and nothing to show for it but a destroyed town and a lot of good witches and wizards dead." His voice rose feverishly high, "I ask you Mr Potter, if Albus Dumbledore would have let himself be so outmatched? Every-"
Harry didn't bother stop the chuckle that rose from his chest. If nothing else, it stopped Caiphus mid-sentence. His eyes snapped to Harry, along with the rest of the Wizengamot.
"Dumbledore?" Harry asked, shaking his head, "Not a chance. The man wouldn't have been touched."
Caiphus's eyes narrowed. It was several seconds before he recomposed himself to speak. "You admit that-"
"I'm not Dumbledore," Harry talked over him like he wasn't even there; "I never claimed to be. I'm not half the wizard he was, and I don't fight like he did. I don't wage my wars like he did."
"Oh? And how do you fight, Mr Potter?" Caiphus snapped.
Harry looked up at the man he despised. His voice come out as cold iron, "Whatever way makes me win."
He looked out at the rest of the Wizengamot, raising his voice to make sure everyone could hear. "Whatever I have to try, whatever I have to go through. It doesn't have to be painless, or pretty, but I'll get it done. Whatever works.
"And it worked. Tom Riddle is dead… I wasn't as strong or as smart as he was, I didn't have the support he did, but in the end… I won."
The hall had fallen quiet again. He had tripped Caiphus, stopped his momentum. Now he was off balance and it showed.
"That was different!" the man cried, leaning over the lectern.
"You're right, it's different now." Harry looked up at the Wizengamot, "I didn't have a choice back then. Tom Riddle was after my head since I was a year old. Either I would have to kill him or he would kill me. This time it's different. You can vote to have me removed and I could walk away from all this. Spend time with my family and grow old and fat. Merlin knows my wife would be happy to hear it. But that's not going to happen. Whoever this Noctis is, he took something from me and I'm going to find him and make him pay for it. This war is different. There are no lines, no fronts. It's a shadow war where we don't even know who or what we're up against. But this time, I'm taking the fight to him. This time I'm going to stop him or die trying."
Silence. Even Caiphus seemed at a loss for words. If that was what it took to shut the old windbag up Harry might've declared a suicidal crusade years ago.
"I was appointed as Head Auror for a reason," he called. "It wasn't out of desperation or some swell of public opinion. It was because I proved myself capable. I started as a Trainee Auror like anybody else. I proved I could get the job done. I worked my ass off day in and day out because I wanted to make this country better than what I grew up with. I thought I had managed that, but I was wrong." He looked up into the shadows. "Caiphus is right, I failed."
Murmurs broke out overhead.
"I thought our problems were over, and I wanted to enjoy a time of peace. I wanted to see my children grow up and spend more time with my wife. I didn't see what was growing in the darkness. I paid the price for that. But now I know what needs to be done. If you decide that you don't want me as Head Auror anymore, fine. But I'm going to go after Lord Noctis anyway. He's taken my son from me, and I'm going to capture him or I'm going to kill him."
Caiphus leaned over his lectern, "Are you saying-"
"That's right," It felt good to be the one doing the interrupting. "Have me fired if you want, I'm done arguing politics. But I've lost too much to stop now." He directed his gaze up at the half hidden Wizengamot above, "So help me or get out of my way."
XXXXX
It was less than an hour before Ron strode through the doors, grinning from ear to ear. The rest of the Auror captains followed, looking slightly more demure.
"It looks like we're keeping you," he beamed.
It might have seemed arrogant, but Harry wasn't surprised. After his testimony, Harry seemed to have taken the wind out of Caiphus's sails. "Caiphus must have been delighted."
"Thought the old goat was going to have a heart attack he got so worked up. Proper tried to tear into the captains. I figure he realised going after you directly wasn't going to work after you gave your testimony, so he was desperate for another angle."
Harry looked over the other captains. They all looked battered. None of them had come away from Cliffcoat without taking some knocks. Finch-Fletchley in particular looked like he was a bout to keel over. Caiphus had put them through the winger just to get to him?
"He wasn't too hard on you?"
Lewis gave a watery grin, "No sweat chief. Ten minutes of grilling was worth it to see Liddling's testimony."
The group exchanged grins with the exception of Liddling herself. The old witch frowned, but then again, she was always frowning.
"Caiphus read my report on the Cliffcoat Incident," she said stiffly, "I had detailed several decisions you made that day which potentially exacerbated the situation. It seemed he thought my testimony would be useful in having you removed."
"And it didn't?" Harry wasn't surprised Liddling had problems with his decisions that day; she always had something to say about his commands, and almost a third of the casualties that day had been Wings. In all honesty hers was the testimony he had sweated the most over.
Again she gave that scowl he knew so well. "Cliffcoat was a calamity waiting to happen. No matter who was in charge or what calls were made people were going to die. In the heat of the moment, I'm not sure anyone would have been able to make the right calls."
Kingsway chuckled, "She told Caiphus that since he thought he could do a better job she would be happy to take him out on manoeuvres to see how it was supposed to be done..."
"And that she remembered him from Hogwarts, and based on how piss poor he was in Defence Against the Dark Arts she seriously doubted he could have anything worthwhile to add to the matter." Finch-Fletchley finished.
"Wow," Harry said as the rest of them sniggered. He was genuinely shocked. "Thanks."
Liddling's scowl only deepened. "Save your thanks, Potter. I didn't do it for you." She marched past him and headed towards the elevators without another word.
"Jeez," Ron said. "Get a room you two."
Harry took the time to make sure the rest of the captains were alright (Lewis and Kingsway were raring to go. Finch-Fletchley needed another few days in St. Mungo's and some time away from anything green or elongated) before agreeing on a briefing later. After that they left, leaving Harry and Ron alone
"How long will this take?" he asked.
Ron shrugged, "You know the Wizengamot. Why spend a minute saying 'You're not fired' when they can take ten? Even so, all they need you for is to officially end the hearing. Shouldn't take too long."
Harry let his head fall back against the wall. It was still the morning and already he was exhausted. "Alright, let's get this over with. At least I can see Caiphus's face when he reads the verdict."
He reached for the door handle.
"You mean what you said in there?" Ron asked.
"Huh?"
"Back in there, what you said about hunting down Noctis. I don't need Ginny becoming a widow."
Ah.
"Yes… No…" Harry pinched his nose, "I'm not sure…I'm angry. And I want to find out what that sick son of a bitch did to my son. But after that? I honestly don't know Ron."
When Ron's gaze didn't move, Harry puffed out his cheeks. "Look, another Dark Lord? More deaths? More fighting? I figured staying on as Head Auror would be the best thing for all of us. But honestly? I really don't know if I'm cut out for it anymore… I'm tired of being the Boy Who Lived. Tired of being the one everyone looks to when things go bad. I wish I could retire, let someone else take over… I…" his thought were a jumbled mess, "I'm just tired Ron."
"I can understand that." Ron nodded, "Never thought I'd say it, but I'm glad I can take a step back and not have to deal with being everyone's hero. Live a quiet life - well, quiet as it ever gets for us. But honestly Harry? Like it or not you're still the one everyone's looking to now. You can be tired; you can be fed up, but worry about retiring after we've sorted this whole mess out. Till then we do the job and we stay alive." He gave Harry shoulder a hard pat, "With emphasis on the last part."
A soft chuckle crept out Harry's throat.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Nothing." He reached for the handle again. "It's just… I was talking to your sister the other night and she said almost the exact same thing."
"Well," Ron said, straightening his robes as Harry pushed the heavy door open. "You married a smart girl."
"I guess I did." Harry muttered as they walked back into the vast chamber. "Let's just hope the kids took after her."
XXXXX
James was pissed. Pissed at himself for losing it upstairs. God, how was he even going to start going about making that mess right?
Pissed at Lord Noctis for his part in all this. Bringing things to this level. Screwing up Albus with whatever he did. Turning James's whole world to shit.
And pissed at his dad. His dad made it all worse without even trying. The old man's problem was that he never took the time to consider things from any perspective but his own. He had this way of making James feel small without even trying, like nothing he was doing was worth much in the long run. He had been trying to help Albus, and his dad had called him selfish for it. Couldn't he see that everything James was doing he was doing for the family?
The crowd milled through the Atrium in streams as James watched from the wall by the elevator. He didn't pay them any mind, his thoughts were still on his meeting with Katherine. What a disaster. He was still shaken from what he had done. He tried to shake the image of the stark white indents on her wrist. He never thought he would react so badly to hearing that she hadn't seen anything.
Disgust settled over him. He hadn't meant to do it, but there was no denying that he had taken it too far. He hadn't realised just how desperate he was growing, just how much Albus's condition was affecting him. He had always been the one to take care of his little brother and sister, but he had failed. When Hermione came up with the Pensieve it was a single ray of hope that he had clung to desperately. A chance to fix his mistake. But now that the chance was slipping further and further away he found himself slipping too. This was the one slim chance that had to find a lead. There was no telling when Albus would show them another memory from the night of the attack. Or if he would at all.
And the thought that their one lead might be for nothing, that it might leave him waiting impotently for someone to come along and fix his problems, was more than he could bear.
"James."
He turned to the voice over his shoulder and was surprised to see that it wasn't his father behind him, but his old schoolmate Alistair. None other than the last of Nathan's friends that he had been hoping to meet.
"Alistair" he said, shocked, "Hi."
He reached out to shake the boy's hand. Alistair stood a half foot taller than James, dressed in rich dark robes of the finest quality. His dark hair was slicked back and every inch of him was immaculate. Alistair always held himself with a sense of quiet confidence; the type of person who was sure what hey were doing was right because it was them who was doing it. It had made him an insufferable arse in their early years of Hogwarts. Now? It was hard to say when they had made no effort to keep in touch.
"I received word that you were looking to speak with me." His eyes and tone were cold, almost bored.
"Right, yes." James muttered, caught off balance. He hadn't expected to meet anyone else. Where to begin? "Well-"
"Not here," Alistair cut in, eyeing the surrounding crowds. He turned on heel and walked to the nearest elevator. "I'm heading back down to the office. We can talk there."
"Wait-"
But he was already blocked by the crowd streaming around them. James hovered on the spot. His dad had said to wait here, and he had used his serious voice when he did it, which meant James would be in deep shit if he was caught out. Even so, he needed to talk to Alistair, to find out if he knew anything. And it wasn't like he was going far away. Alistair was an Unspeakable now, so he was only going a few floors below the Atrium. What's the harm?
He pushed his way through the mob and reached the elevator. Alistair was already inside. He didn't seem bothered by having to wait for James, and if he was surprised by his indecisive pause he didn't show it.
They descended in silence.
Once again the image of Katherine's wrist flashed in his mind. Sooner or later Alistair would find out that James had hurt one of his friends, not ten minutes prior. They all would, he realised with a sickening lurch. David, Nathan… they were friends of Katherine too. What would they think of him when they found out?
XXXXX
The entrance to the Department of Mysteries was disappointingly mundane. No smoke and arcane riddles, long halls of whispers and weird devices. Just dark stone walls and tall doors of gleaming metal.
"No guards?" he asked. The only other sounds were their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
"No need."
Alistair turned to face him. James followed his line of sight to see that the floor beneath them both was glowing a faint red around where they each were standing.
"What's this?"
"Security measure," Alistair said. He pulled out his wand and waved it at the floor, looking bored. "Don't worry. I can set it to recognise you as a guest while you're here. Not technically legal." He gave a dry smile, "but somehow I don't think you'll have a problem with that."
I'm not supposed to be here, James thought. Despite himself, a small part of him was a little giddy with the idea of being in the Department of Secrets without proper authorisation. The red glow split into smaller patches, still glowing faintly. It wasn't until they started rising out of the floor that he recognised them as runes.
He watched, fascinated, as the runes rose into the air in spinning circles around him. Once, twice they circled him before slowing to a stop, the red light fading as they sank back into the floor. He glanced back up to see Alistair eyeing him keenly. He had a look on his face James couldn't read. In the dim light of the hallway, wearing the dark robes of an Unspeakable, the young Pureblood looked a little unnerving.
"What?"
Alistair eyes didn't move. "You look terrible."
That rankled James's already frayed nerves. "What?"
"Roaschmark curse, looks like. And to the face, I'm surprised you survived."
Oh. Right.
James rubbed the bandages that obscured half his face. He still didn't really like to talk his experiences of the night of the attack. Especially not with Alistair. "You should see the other guy."
Alistair didn't so much laugh as blow air out his nostrils. Whether that meant he found James funny or irritating was hard to say. He turned and continued down the hallway, leaving James to hurry along beside him.
"The bandages are actually coming off today."
"How nice for you."
Yep. Still an arse.
They walked the rest of the way in silence. The darkness of the corridor gave way to a huge rounded chamber. James had to take a quick step back to avoid a tired looking wizard hurrying past, the black robe of an Unspeakable trailing behind him. The whole room was buzzing with dark cloaked figures, bustling back and forth from door to door. Even so it was surprisingly quiet. It took James a second to pinpoint the fact that no one was talking.
So, they took the whole 'Unspeakable' thing a bit too seriously then. At least there was less chance of someone asking him whether he was supposed to be here.
There was a wide circle spread out all around them, the walls dotted with tunnels leading off down dimly lit hallways. The roof arched up into a dome of old stone. All along the walls were stark white doors, each topped with a coldly glowing rune. He turned to Alistair, who was briskly walking to one such door on of the other side of the room.
"So, pretty quiet down here then?" he muttered, spinning around a haggard looking old witch carrying a pitch black orb of marble. It looked heavier than her.
"The whole Ministry is buzzing," Alistair said from ahead. The sound of his voice didn't really carry over the bustle of moving bodies, so James had to crane his neck to catch it all. "All the higher ups are clamouring for answers to this Lord Noctis."
"Anything so far?" James managed to duck around an intern to catch up with Alistair. He was eager to hear about some kind of progress. Alistair stopped in front of a door as they waited behind a group of wizards going through. His face was grim. "The guys working in the Mind chambers have been talking about some ideas as to how Noctis can possess people at will. Nothing concrete, but they've got some theories."
"Seriously?" James didn't like the sound of that. He had grown up hearing about how Uncle Ron had got the scars on his arm from his ordeal in the Brain Room. It had always left him with a deep unease about what work went on in the Mind chambers of the Department of Mysteries. And his Dad's recounts of his experiences with Voldemort had always made James look at Occlumency and Legilimency with a healthy sense of apprehension. "So, any leads?"
"Just a few," Alistair said, frowning off towards a hallway across the room. "And all of them deeply disturbing."
They stepped up to the door without another word. James felt a wave of pressure hit him as he followed through, though Alistair barely seemed to notice. Up ahead were more corridors, looking newer and better kept.
He followed Alistair through the twisting hallway until they reached a door identical to all the others. Inside was a desk and two chairs, well furnished and expensive looking. The chairs were old leather of burned red, and the table was lined with silver metalwork. Cabinets and instruments lined the walls. It reminded him of the Headmaster's office, where James had received more than a few scoldings, warnings and on one memorable occasion an outright threat of expulsion.
"You've done well for yourself."
"Have I?" Alistair said as he took a seat.
"Well, I guess you were always used to the good stuff I suppose."
Alistair didn't so much as smile.
"You had something you wanted to ask me James, so ask."
The uneasy smirk dropped off James's face. Right to it then. "I've been going around everyone from Nathan's group…" He started to give the same brief that he gave the others, but before he got more than three sentences in Alistair starting waving his hand in a circular motion.
"Your brother was under an Invisibility Cloak the night of the attack, and he was last seen following us. Ask me your question James."
James blinked in confusion. His mind carried on regardless, "Did- did you see Albus that night?"
"No. I didn't see your brother. I didn't see anything to make me think your brother might have been following us. There is nothing I can say that can offer you any help in finding out what happened to him."
James was so stunned by Alistair's answer he couldn't even bring himself to be offended by his bluntness. With everything that had happened with Katherine he had forgotten that this was his only lead, his only clue in finding some help for Albus.
"So that's it? That's all you have to say?"
If Alistair was affronted by James's tone he didn't show it. "That's all I have to say."
"Then why the hell did you bring me all the way down to this place?" he snapped, standing out of his chair.
Alistair remained seated. "This place is the most secure department in the entire Ministry. Nobody gets in or out without express permission. Nobody knows what happens down here. If you disappear down here you'll never turn up again. I brought you down here, James, to tell you something."
Alistair had a look on his face James had never seen before. Anger. Cold hard anger and perfect control. He had to stop himself from taking a step back.
"If you touch Katherine again, they'll never find your body."
It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him. His entire body shut down, frozen in place. He knew.
"Just a word of advice. Feel free to show yourself out."
James barely remembered the trip back. Somehow his feet found his way and before he knew it he was back in the elevator heading back up to the Atrium. All his hope for leads had turned up nothing, there was nowhere left to look, nothing left to do to help. And on top of it all he still had the image of the indents on Katherine's wrist in the back of his skull.
The elevator dinged to let him know he had reached the Atrium. It had only been an hour or so since his dad's hearing had started, he was supposed to wait for him to finish.
But fuck it all.
James had already resolved to go home and get very, very drunk.
That was the problem with living your life in the storm. If the water got rough enough, you ran the risk of crashing against the rocks.
XXXXX
A/N: So, it's been a while I know. Sorry about that. Lot of stuff's been going down in my life the last few months so I've not been able to find much time for writing for this. As well as that this chapter's gone through a ton of drafts before I was moderately happy with it, so it's been hard to slog through.
Anyway, that's the last of the introductory chapters. We've seen just about all the major characters from Albus, James and Harry's individual stories so the next part of the story should start moving forward a bit quicker. I've already got parts of the next few chapters written out so I'm hoping to put them out sooner. Guess we'll see.
Anyhoo, thanks for reading.