Harry Potter and the Cult of Shadows

by chadsgirl824

AFTER HOGWARTS Harry now works at Hogwarts and has his hands full as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. But Voldemort's fate is still a mystery and dark forces are closer than anyone imagines. Written before OotP

9. Chapter 9

"Mel…c'mon, we can't be late…I can't be late!" Harry called, now standing in his girlfriend's room while she was finishing in the bathroom. It hadn't taken him long to change into his black dress robes, and give up, as usual, with fixing his hair, before he had went next door.

"Just two more minutes," she called out, sounding hurried.

"You said that ten minutes ago!" Harry replied exasperatedly, heading for the front of the room and glancing outside for the umpteenth time. "There's hardly anyone out there now…they're all there already…"

"Oh we'll make it, stop whining," Mel admonished him, at last emerging from the bathroom and stopping in front of the bureau. She checked over her hair and smoothed out her clothes quickly, before finally turning around to face him.

"How do I look?"

And despite his feelings of anxiousness over being late, Harry couldn't help but stop in his tracks. Mel was wearing pale, ice blue dress robes that were the perfect contrast to her deep blue eyes. Her hair was left mostly down, with a few braided strands pulled into a small bun around the back. She had very little makeup on, and just a soft gloss on her lips.

"Beautiful…" Harry replied after finding his voice again. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you," Mel replied, bowing her head modestly as a soft blush rose in her cheeks. "Now c'mon…we're gonna be late if we don't hurry."

"Oh don't start," Harry laughed as the two made their way to the door. They locked it quickly, and Harry took one of Mel's hands in his, before they started down the path that Harry had seen everyone taking earlier.

As he'd expected, they came closer and closer to the area with no snow, which they had caught a glimpse of when they arrived. Only this time, there were no barriers stopping them from entering. Harry led Mel around the tents they had seen before, where they both came to an abrupt halt at the sight before them.

"This is gorgeous…" Mel whispered and Harry nodded in agreement, as they took it all in.

The snow that had been falling on their walk over was still doing so, but not where they stood. It was like an inverse snow-globe, the delicate flakes cascading down the edges of the barrier. There was a light frost on the trees, Harry could see now that they were closer, giving a crystalline shimmer to the branches as the afternoon sun hit them. Weaved into the smaller trees which were set closer in, were long, white, silk scarves, which would billow out softly every so often as a gentle breeze came though.

At the far edge of the clearing was a tall man in dark grey robes, standing near a podium. There were no chairs set up, everyone would remain standing for the ceremony, and Harry could see Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins already standing off to the right, the side Sirius would be on, with the Molly and Arthur just a bit further away speaking with people Harry didn't recognize.

Making their way through the small crowd, Harry led Mel towards their friends, realizing they must be the last to arrive, as no one else had followed them in.

"I was wondering if you'd be on time," Ron whispered when they finally reached him.

"You can talk to Mel about our being late," Harry replied with a smirk, feeling her nudge his ribs sharply and failing to edge out of the way.

"Well be glad you weren't," Hermione spoke up, and Harry glanced over to see she had chosen a set of blue dress robes as well, only hers were much darker then Mel's. Her hair was left down, but much straighter than usual. "Someone was looking for you just a few minutes ago," she continued.

"Who?" Harry asked, glancing around.

"She didn't say her name," Ginny piped up, edging out from behind her brother just enough so Harry could see her lavender dress robes, "just that she needed to make sure of where you would be standing…"

"Oh for the rings, right," Harry said.

"Rings?" Ron asked, but his question was drowned out by his mother's voice.

"Harry, Melanie! Look at the two of you!" she cried as she and Arthur rejoined their children. "Melanie you look absolutely stunning! And Harry, look at you…how handsome! I can't believe how grown up you…"

"Mum," Ron cut in testily, giving his mother a warning look. "You don't have to tell everyone here you know…"

"I wasn't telling everyone here," Molly replied, brushing her son off as if he were simply acting silly.

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley," Harry said politely, smiling happily at her and secretly hoping she wouldn't continue. People had begun to stare. He didn't stop her, however, when she reached out to give him a big hug, telling him how proud she was, before finally releasing him as a short woman wearing black robes came up behind him.

"Mr. Potter? This way please," she said without giving him a chance to reply. Harry quickly told the others he'd see them in a bit, before following the woman up to the front of the crowd, just off to the side of the podium. He was joined only seconds later as Sirius finally arrived, decked out in dark dress robes, with a white ribbon that was pinned just in from his left shoulder. He went directly up to the front.

Smiling at his godfather, Harry nodded reassuringly, seeing the nervousness in the older man's face, but the joy as well…Sirius was happier than Harry could ever remember seeing him, and it made his heart swell for him.

A brief moment later, soft music filled the tiny half-globe, and everyone looked to the back, where Marzia came slowly up through the path between the crowds. She wasn't wearing robes, but an elegant white gown with long sleeves that slipped just off her shoulders. It was entirely form fitting, showing off her shapely figure, until just below her hips, where it flared out ever so slightly.

Marzia made her way to the front, positively glowing as she closed the distance between her and Sirius, and when she reached him, she waited, smiling lovingly as he took her hands in his, leading her closer to the podium.

When the music faded slowly away, the man in the grey robes began speaking, and the ceremony was underway. Harry spared a quick glance towards the back again, where he had noticed during Marzia's entrance that Dumbledore and McGonagall had been standing. Albus noticed him looking, gave him a faint smile and winked, before they both turned their attention back to the minister's words.

While the ceremony was quite short, it was both beautiful and sweet. Sirius and Marzia exchanged their vows that they had written to one another in front of their friends and loved ones, neither one taking their eyes from the other.

When it was time, Harry stepped forward as his godfather looked to him, and handed him the two gold wedding bands. Marzia smiled sweetly at him as he moved back into the crowd, letting the ceremony continue.

As the vows were finished, and no one made a sound as the minister asked if there were any who opposed the union, he continued with the closing.

"I now pronounce you husband…and wife."

Several people began to cheer as he continued.

"You may kiss the bride."

And Sirius did. He brushed his fingers softly along the outline of his wife's face, before leaning forward and kissing her gently…but passionately. The two stood there for a long moment, lost in the kiss…and each other, until finally separating to the loud cheers of the crowd around them.

With large smiles on their faces and affection in their eyes, Sirius and Marzia walked back through the crowd together, stopping as everyone came up to congratulate them…and wish them well.

Harry made his way back to his friends, knowing he would have time to speak with Sirius later.

"You didn't tell me you were the ring bearer," Mel said as Harry rejoined the group.

"I only found out a short while ago…while you were getting ready, actually…Sirius came to ask me if I would."

"Oh that's so sweet!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed joyfully, hearing Harry's statement. "It was such a beautiful ceremony, wasn't it? So perfect!"

"Yes mum, perfect," Ron said, quickly edging he and Hermione around her and motioning for Harry and Mel to go with them.

When they reached the tents, they found they were set up for a reception, and people were quickly filling the tables and chairs, which were set up in rows.

Harry, Mel, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins quickly found a table for themselves, watching as the ones around them filled up. There was a band playing soft music, and as the night went on many people got up to dance in the area cleared near the front.

Marzia and Sirius were still making rounds, stopping to talk with everyone, and Harry just smiled, fully happy for his godfather.

When he finally caught sight of Dumbledore again, however, Harry jumped up and made his way over to the head minister.

"Hello Harry," Albus said, catching sight of him as he was stepping away from the long buffet table, where the food trays were endlessly refilling themselves. "Very nice job you did up there today."

"Thank you…" Harry nodded, smiling, "I'm glad you came…I know Sirius is."

"I told you, I wouldn't miss it," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. "I will however have to miss the rest of this lovely reception. I must return to London for this evening's activities."

"I understand," Harry nodded. "And I'm sure the New Year's celebration will be fun…"

"Possibly, yes," Dumbledore chuckled. "But I know Travis is looking forward to seeing the fireworks…which I promised he could do from inside the office, so I must get back there in time for his arrival."

"I bet he'll love that," Harry grinned. "Tell him I said hi."

"I certainly will," Dumbledore nodded. "And now, I must be on my way…enjoy your evening, Harry."

"You too, sir!" Harry called after him, watching as the older wizard made his way to the back of the tent, stopping once to speak with Sirius and Marzia again, before exiting into the chilly evening air.

As the night grew later, the crowd only seemed to get more excited. They may not have been in the main square in London, but they would still be celebrating New Year's. Only Sirius and Marzia would be leaving. They were, of course, taking a honeymoon, and apparently, the sooner the better. They would be leaving shortly, on their way to France for what was sure to be a blissful, relaxing week. Harry had tried to persuade them to go for longer, but Sirius didn't like the idea of being gone for too long. A week would be fine for now he had said, and Marzia was quick to add that there would always be chances for other…trips.

"Have a wonderful time," Harry said only moments before the newlyweds were getting ready to leave.

"Send pictures whenever you can!" Mel added.

"Yes lots of pictures," Ginny added, happily.

"We will, I promise," Sirius said, making sure the last of the gifts were loaded into the trunk of a small white car. The trunk, of course, had been charmed, or nothing would have fit as easily as it did.

"Oh I'm so happy for you both!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, her eyes glassed over as she leaned out and hugged first Sirius and then Marzia tightly.

"Thank you, thank you all…so much," Marzia said, looking both elated and as if she thought she was forgetting something.

"And thank you, Harry," Sirius began.

"Sirius…just get going," Harry laughed gently. "Enjoy your honeymoon and we'll talk when you get back, alright?"

"Thank you," Sirius nodded, smiling widely. He and Marzia waved good-bye to everyone, calling out thank you once again, before finally getting into the car. Everyone stepped back, as the car engine revved to life, and Sirius drove it forward a few feet, before it set off into the air.

Harry smiled at Mr. Weasley, knowing he had definitely been behind that particular gift, before everyone headed back to the half-globe for the celebration to continue. The spell was still holding up, and it was a bit warmer in there than in the tents, which would be the perfect place to wait for the New Year, and the light show, which was promised at midnight.

The small group had just found a place to settle down and wait, when Mel tugged gently on Harry's hand, pulling him a few feet from the others.

"I think…" she began slowly as he turned towards her, smiling curiously. "I don't want to wait out here for the celebration."

"Oh…are you tired?" he laughed gently, thinking again how positively beautiful she was. A light breeze came up from behind her, gently blowing loose strands of her hair, whipping them around her face, and Harry reached up to brush them back, his fingers touching gently to her soft skin.

"Well, I just feel like…heading back to the room…for now…" Mel said slowly, gazing up at him. She pulled him a few feet away from the people they were near, looking deeply into his eyes before continuing. "Come back with me?"

"Well of course I'll walk you back," Harry began, smiling down at her. "Though you don't look so tired that you can't stay up…"

"I didn't ask you to walk me back," Mel replied simply, and in that moment, Harry realized what she had said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, almost whispering. She nodded faintly; a soft longing in her eyes as she gently squeezed his hand. Harry could only smile back at her, and slipped an arm around her small waist, as the two began the walk back to the lodge together.

As the early morning sun shown in through the windows, Harry slowly opened his eyes to the sound of soft, persistent tapping. Glancing towards the noise, he saw a rather small, snowy owl, working fervently at pushing open one of the slightly cracked windows, gradually making an opening large enough so it could fit through.

Smiling lazily, Harry considered getting up to help it, but a gentle movement beside him turned his attention away from the owl. Mel was still sound asleep, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips, and Harry felt a pleasant shiver run through him. He moved onto his side once again, gently pulling Mel closer into him, the scent of her hair filling him…

Slowly, however, Mel began to stir, and Harry could only grin as she yawned contentedly, before finally focusing on him, and smiling softly.

"What's that noise?" she whispered, her eyes shifting to the source of the tapping.

"Just the post…probably only with the Daily Prophet, I'm sure," Harry answered quietly. He lifted a hand and stroked her hair gently, remembering last night…the soft glow of Mel's smooth skin…they had talked for sometime after as well…until neither could stay awake any longer…and drifted off in each other's arms.

"Oh the poor thing," Mel laughed, seeing the struggling owl. "Help it Harry…" she pleaded. Harry sighed with a grin, beginning to shimmy out from under the warm covers when the small owl finally managed to squeeze through with a brief poof of loosened feathers that quickly began floating to the floor. The bird, however, soared across the room, fluttering madly as it perched on Harry's covered knee, dropped the one parcel it had been carrying and immediately jumped back up in a swift flurry of movement.

Harry laughed quietly as the bird inched back through the opening it had made for itself, before taking off into the chilly January air.

"That was adorable," Mel said, smiling as she slowly pushed herself up, wrapping her arms around one of Harry's and resting her chin on his shoulder. "So, what does it say? Anything about the celebration last night?"

"Probably," Harry replied softly, obviously not concerned in the least with the paper as he turned and kissed her forehead softly. Moving his free hand up one of her arms, he slid his fingers along her skin until they were just beneath her chin, and raised her face to his, kissing her softly.

The sudden harsh pounding on the door, however, was quite unexpected, and both Harry and Mel jumped a foot when it began.

"Mel? Are you awake? It's Ron!"

"I-I'm awake," Mel stammered apprehensively, looking helplessly at Harry who simply nodded.

"Do you know where Harry is? I can't find him and…"

"I'm sure he's fine," Mel called back quickly.

"No, we have to find him," Ron said, definite anxiety clear in his voice despite being muffled through the door. "Something's happened."

"What do you…?" Mel began, questioningly.

"I'm going to try his room again…maybe he's still asleep. Meet me up at our room when you're dressed!" he yelled, his voice fading as he had already begun stepping away from the door.

Mel didn't bother to reply as she looked up at Harry, feeling both worried and confused.

"What do you think he was talking about?" she whispered.

"I don't know," Harry replied grimly, a knot settling in the pit of his stomach as his eyes fell on the paper lying inches from his hand. Realizing how Ron had come to the door not long after the owl delivered the post, Harry began untying the string that was keeping the rolled parchment closed, not expecting anything, but still unable to ignore the feeling in his gut.

However, nothing…nothing in the world, could have prepared him for what he saw when at last the paper was unfurled, and Harry felt his jaw drop in disbelief and horror as his blood turned to ice, while he read the words in front of him.

"What is it?" Mel asked, feeling Harry go tense beside her. She leant forward to peer over his shoulder at the Daily Prophet, and immediately gasped in shock.

"It…this…no…" Harry stammered, shaking his head slowly. "There must be a mistake…there's just…this can't be…" he trailed off, suddenly feeling very ill. He stared at the parchment in front of him, willing there to be something…anything…that would prove it to be false…fake…anything other than the truth…but there was nothing, and the headline blared tauntingly back at him, while he sat in stunned silence.

Albus Dumbledore Arrested For Murder!

"How?" Mel cried, fear evident in her tone. "He was just here! We all saw him yesterday!"

"I don't know," Harry replied grimly, scanning the article fervently now, wanting to know exactly what the head minister was accused of. "They're saying he killed two people…" he began.

"Who?" Mel asked immediately.

"There's no names," Harry stated, still reading. "It says here they were both found in his office last night…a woman and a man…one…he stopped abruptly, his voice catching in his throat as his eyes took in the print faster than he could speak it.

"One what?" Mel prompted apprehensively, trying to see where he'd been reading.

"One was a witch…" Harry began slowly, his stomach twisting. "The other was a…a muggle."

"A muggle?" Mel whispered. "Harry…you don't think…I mean…they can't mean…it isn't Travis, right?" she finally managed to get out.

"If it is then whoever accused Dumbledore is mad," Harry spat, heatedly. He felt a sudden shock of anger run through him and pushed the covers back entirely, jumping to his feet beside the bed. "Albus would not have harmed Travis…never…and to accuse him of…of…" he trailed off, far too infuriated to continue speaking.

"Let's get up to Ron's right away," Mel said quickly. "We have to do something…"

"Yes, we do," Harry agreed, determination in his narrowed eyes as he glanced at the paper once more. It was only when he felt Mel come up beside him a long moment later that he finally tore his gaze away.

"Here," she said quietly, gently holding out an armful of clothes. Harry felt a rush of sadness as he took the bundle from her, and promptly tossed them onto the bed, pulling Mel forward into a fierce embrace.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean for this to be…"

"Harry…I don't care about that…" Mel interrupted, her voice sounding quite strained. "Let's just find the others…quickly…and see what we can do to help Dumbledore."

Harry nodded, taking a slow step back and picking up his things.

"I'll meet you out front in ten minutes, alright?" he asked gently, and Mel nodded in reply, before turning away and heading for the washroom. Harry watched her for a brief moment, before turning away himself. He threw his robes on quickly, before exiting the room and running next door to his own, trying not to think about the pounding headache that had come so quickly and was now wanting to break through his skull…or the endless questions running through his mind.

He put on fresh clothes and threw everything left into his bag, before rushing out front to meet Mel, and together, the two of them set off immediately for the Weasleys' room.

"Where have you been?" Ron exclaimed as he caught sight of Harry and Mel. He was just returning to the large room as they were arriving. "I've been searching everywhere!"

"I was…in bed…" Harry stammered uncomfortably, before continuing quickly. "Until I saw the news…"

"It's insane," Ron spat darkly as they stepped into the large cabin to find Hermione there waiting for them, looking worried. "We have to do something."

"Your parents left already," Hermione began, coming up to them as the door closed behind the small group. "They had Fred and George take Ginny home…they want us to wait for them there as well…"

"No," Ron said at once, shaking his head in determination. "I think we should go to London…"

"Ron's right," Harry nodded. "I can't just sit around waiting to hear from them…we need to get there right away."

"What can we do though?" Mel asked quietly. "I'm not saying I think we shouldn't go…but realistically…what can we do once we're there?"

"I don't know," Harry replied honestly. "But I do know that whatever actually happened last night…Dumbledore is innocent. I don't need to see any evidence to be sure of that…and we have to be there…to do anything in our power to help him."

"Let's go then," Hermione said at once, "Let's drop off our bags…and head straight to the ministry building."

"We'll meet you there," Ron added, looking to Harry and Mel. "We'll be right out front."

"Fine," Harry nodded, "See you in a few minutes."

A few minutes, however, turned out to be just over half an hour. The four quickly dropped off their things at home, before apparating to just nearby the ministry building, where there was an enormous crowd of people filling the street. It took the four friends a good deal of time to finally locate one another, before pushing their way through the angry witches and wizards, and into the lobby of the building.

"This isn't going to work," Hermione said darkly, on her tiptoes trying to see over the throngs of people in front of her. "It'll be hours before we can make it up to the grates to get upstairs…and I can't even tell if they're activated right now…"

"There's no other way around?" Mel asked, turning to glance at Ron. "Has your father or brother shown you…?"

"That's the only way I've ever gone up," Ron shrugged, looking frustrated.

"But it's not the only way I've used," Harry added quickly, turning in the tight space the four of them were standing in to glance at the opposite wall. "And it looks like the path is clear…c'mon."

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, taking Ron's hand so they wouldn't get separated.

"You'll see," was all Harry said in reply, not wanting any of the crowd near them to overhear and do the same. They reached the door that Harry had gone through on his first visit to the ministry, when the receptionist had been too busy to give him the proper help he needed to get to Dumbledore's office. He noticed now that the same receptionist was at her desk, looking about ready to go out of her mind from the people around her, barraging her with questions.

"Okay, one at a time," Harry whispered, glancing nervously at the nearest group of people. Luckily, they were paying no attention to anything the four friends were doing, too concerned about getting to the grates on the opposite side of the lobby. The small group managed to slip through the doorway unnoticed, and Ron, being the last in line, shut it silently behind him.

"I never even knew this was here," he commented with a small laugh as they began ascending the stairway.

"I'm guessing not many people do," Harry replied. "They didn't even bother locking the door, apparently…"

"And why climb stairs when the grates take just seconds?" Mel added, sardonically.

"They obviously don't bother keeping this stairway clean in the event someone wants to use it either," Hermione commented disgustedly, pulling her hand away from the dusty banister and wiping it on her clothes.

They made their way up to the sixth floor as quickly as possible, having no idea what to expect when they got there. Harry was the first one to reach the landing, and immediately crossed the short distance to the doorway, but stopped abruptly as he glanced to his left. He'd only been in this hallway once, but something looked different…

"Harry c'mon," Ron's voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. He glanced over his shoulder to see the others waiting anxiously behind him, before throwing open the door and stepping through into the bright hallway.

The four friends set off immediately in the direction of the head minister's office, no one having any idea who would be there, or what they would say. They could hear voices ahead of them, however, and turned the corner to find a very crowded corridor. But before any of them could take another step, one voice rose above the others, sounding quite irritated.

"What are they doing here?" Thurston spat angrily, and Harry was sure he must've meant them…but was surprised to see the thin man, who was stalking towards the four friends, come to a stop a few feet away. "I believe I told you all we would speak with you later…you'll have to await any further statements downstairs with the rest of them."

Harry watched, as what appeared to be a news crew and a reporter argued with Thurston, but several larger men, who Harry could only guess were security guards, flanked the bald minister on either side, awaiting his orders.

In seconds, the guards were ushering the news crew away, to escort them downstairs, and Thurston kept his eyes on the men, until they neared Harry and his friends.

"Mr. Potter," he hissed darkly, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he stepped towards the group of friends. "You and your friends are trespassing…I suggest you leave unless you want to be arrested…"

"This is a public building," Ron spoke up suddenly. "You can't do that."

"Yes and this is a private floor," Thurston snapped in reply, "and the scene of a crime…now get out."

"Harry Potter!" the reporter cut in suddenly, a large smile spreading across his face. "Were you close to any of the victims? Did you know them personally?"

"What…? No," Harry replied hesitantly, not having expected the questions. "I came here to help Albus Dumbledore," he continued pointedly, saying it more to Thurston than the reporter, and continuing on, a deadly serious tone in his voice. "He was framed."

"Really?" the reporter asked, his eyes wide with excitement. "How do you…?"

"Enough!" Thurston cried angrily, his voice echoing in the now silent corridor. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange. "I'm warning you Potter…get out now or…" he trailed off, seeing what Harry recognized to be a Quick-Quotes Quill in front of the reporter, fiercely writing down every word that was spoken.

"Put that away," Thurston began, darkly, watching as the man scrambled to stuff the quill into his bag before one of the guards could confiscate it. "And for the last time Potter…get out."

"No," Harry replied determinedly. "Albus is innocent and I won't…"

"Fine, have it your way," Thurston cut in icily, motioning to two more guards, standing near the closest floo grates. They immediately started towards Harry.

"I wonder what the citizens of Wizarding London…not to mention the rest of the wizarding world, will think when they hear you've arrested someone who was only trying to help the highly-respected and well-loved head minister…" Hermione spoke up quickly, continuing as Thurston's eyes narrowed. "Especially when they find out that that someone was Harry Potter…who many people know was very close with Albus during his final years as headmaster of Hogwarts…"

"If all this nonsense against Dumbledore proves to be true…I doubt the people will be looking to you to be their new head minister…" Ron added, allowing a small smirk to cross his lips.

Thurston glared hatefully at the group of friends, glancing briefly towards the reporter who stood by eagerly awaiting his response.

"What are you waiting for?" he spat at the guards near the reporter. "Get them out of here!" He waited a long moment, until the news crew was out of sight, before turning back to Harry.

"Your feeble threats don't frighten me in the least," he began darkly. "And I have every right to arrest you for trespassing…" he trailed off, his expression changing to one of sympathy…with great effort. "But I realize you must be distraught over this shocking news, and perhaps I acted in haste."

"I want to know why Dumbledore was arrested for murder, when I know he could never take someone else's life…not without good reason, at least," Harry said evenly.

"Then you'll have to wait like the rest of the world," Thurston replied quickly. "It will be in the papers."

"Sure, what you decide to tell them will be," Mel spoke up suddenly.

"And you are?" Thurston asked snidely.

"Melanie Tristen," she replied briskly. "We've almost met once before…"

"Ah…I thought you looked familiar," he said, brushing her off. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

"Mr. Thurston why was Dumbledore arrested?" Harry asked, trying to hold in his anger. "Who is he accused of killing?"

"You answered one of your own questions, Potter," Thurston sneered. "He has been arrested for murder…and it was his assistant and his nephew, who were the unfortunate victims."

Harry felt a pang of sadness twist inside of him. He had already suspected this answer…but a part of him hoped it wasn't true, and so it had not been…until this moment.

"Don't you think it's a little odd he would kill his own nephew?" Hermione asked. "And then his assistant…what reason would he have?"
"I don't know," Thurston shrugged indifferently. "Maybe he got tired of that muggle's incessant foolish behavior and simply did something about it…I don't claim to know how someone who is clearly insane thinks…"

"Dumbledore is not insane," Harry said, sharply.

"Think what you like, the evidence is against him," Thurston replied smugly.

"What evidence?" Ron asked, angrily.

"That, I'm afraid, is really none of your business," Thurston said, now sounding bored. "And I'm going to have to insist you all leave now…I've answered quite enough of your questions."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by Hermione, as she thanked the minister for his time. She gave Harry a pointed stare, before taking Ron's hand and starting back the way they'd come. Harry waited half a second, feeling only hatred and anger as he looked back at Thurston, before turning away and following the others.

"Can you believe him?" Ron asked angrily as he started descending the stairs. "I hope my father can tell us more than he did, because…" he trailed off, looking over his shoulder. "Harry…what is it?"

Harry stood on the landing to the sixth floor, looking off to the side intently, before stepping towards the broom closet.

"I thought this looked different," Harry said absently, moving his hands to the large chain lying limply in the handles of the doors. "This was locked last time I came through here," he began, taking the chain in his hands and easily pulling it free. "But now the lock itself is gone." He let the heavy links fall to the floor, before beginning to open the doors.

"And what is it that you think you're doing?" an unfamiliar voice spoke up from behind them.

Harry whirled around where he stood, as the person who had spoken stepped onto the landing of the sixth floor. He had been coming from upstairs, apparently, but no one had heard him until he spoke.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, eyeing the dark stranger suspiciously. He had light blonde hair, which was left a bit longer in the front, and the ends of it touched the corners of his dark brown eyes…eyes that Harry felt he knew…but couldn't place from where.

"First answer my question," the man replied evenly.

"We're here to help Albus Dumbledore," Ron spoke up at once, glaring sordidly at the stranger.

"Well I don't think you'll find him in that broom closet," the man snapped briskly, pushing past Harry with a swish of his pristine black robes and placing his hand on the door, which was barely cracked open, before forcing it shut with a bang.

"Now answer my question," Harry said darkly, not willing to give up so quickly. "Who are you?"

"I work here," the man replied crisply. "As a caretaker."

"They sure give you janitors fancy uniforms," Ron remarked sardonically, obviously not buying the man's answer.

"I'm not a janitor," the stranger began through clenched teeth, glaring daggers at Ron. "But I do work here, and I can't say I recognize any of you as employees…so therefore you have no right to be searching through anything on-"

The man cut off abruptly as the door that led to the sixth floor hall opened quickly.

"What's going on?" Draco Malfoy asked, the expression of exasperation on his features being replaced by one of confusion. "What are you all doing in the stairway? And…who are you?" he asked, his gaze finally falling on the dark man.

"I'm one of the caretakers," the man replied curtly. "Ewan Norwood, sir," he continued, inclining his head slightly towards Draco.

"Oh," Malfoy replied absently, a superior air to his tone as he looked past Ewan. "Well?" he asked Harry. "Care to explain…whatever it is you're doing?"

"I'm trying to see what's inside this closet," Harry replied at once, honestly glad to see Draco, hoping he would help.

"Why?" Malfoy asked, obviously failing to see any reason why someone would want to open a broom closet.

"Well, because I think there may be something in it…" Harry began.

"Yes, brooms," Ewan cut in, rolling his eyes. "Mops, buckets, dust rags…"

"Something that's not supposed to be there," Harry interrupted pointedly, talking over Ewan.

"And is there a reason you think that?" Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest and looking bored.

"Well at first it was because the lock was missing…I came through here a few months back and this closet was locked tightly. It looked like no one had been in it for a long while. But now I'm positive there's something in there…because he doesn't want us to look…" Harry trailed off, looking pointedly at Ewan as he did so.

"Really?" Draco asked, arching one eyebrow in interest. He started forward, bumping into Ewan as he passed, "Sorry Evan," and coming to a stop in front of the double doors.

"Sir, if you'll just…" Ewan began, the slightest hint of anxiety in his tone.

"Evan, you're standing in the way…" Draco stated impatiently, motioning with his hand for the older man to step aside. "Find someplace else to clean up…or whatever it is you were doing…"

Ewan stared back at Draco for a brief moment, his expression filled with anger and frustration, before he turned abruptly and stalked towards the entryway to the sixth floor, stepping into the corridor and letting the door slam shut behind him.

Draco shrugged indifferently at Ewan's sudden decision to leave, as Ron, Hermione and Mel came closer to where he and Harry were standing.

"Thanks," Harry said somewhat awkwardly, seeing his friends weren't quite sure how to respond to what Malfoy had just done as well.

"I didn't do it for you," Draco explained, as if it should be obvious. "I want to see what that janitor was hiding in here."

Harry stifled a small laugh, rolling his eyes and thinking he should've known that would be Draco's motivation, but quickly brought his attention back to the present, as Malfoy reached forward, turning one of the handles and opening the door to the broom closet.

The small group peered inside for only seconds, before Draco spoke up, a curious edge to his tone.

"Well what have we here…?"

Draco reached forward into the shadows, the lights in the stairwell doing little to illuminate the dark closet, but as luck would have it, what they were looking for was not hard to see.

"Someone was in a hurry," he began, dragging a large pail out onto the landing. "They didn't hide this very well."

"They probably weren't expecting anyone to look in here," Hermione said quickly, watching as Draco drew out a thick bunch of dark grey material from the bucket.

"The robes," Harry said, recognizing the material immediately as Draco shook it open. "It's one of those robes you wore when you were going into the dark forest!"

"It is," Draco agreed with a brief nod. "The question is, what is it doing in a broom closet?"

"Well someone obviously threw it in there, so no one would see it," Mel said.

"And I'll bet that someone would be Ewan," Ron added, narrowing his eyes.

"We don't know that yet," Hermione said quickly.

"Oh c'mon you can't tell me you believe that lie about being a caretaker," Ron said, looking pointedly down at Hermione.

"Of course I don't," she replied. "But whatever is happening here…I believe Ewan is involved…and I don't think he's doing it alone."

"Well whoever is behind this isn't going to like that we found these robes…we have to get them to someone fast," Harry said. "Ron…where's your dad's office from here? We could-"

The doorway to the sixth floor flung open with such force everyone startled at once, before turning to see Thurston glaring darkly back at them, Ewan just a step behind him.

"Mr. Malfoy," Thurston began icily. "Explain yourself this instant."

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, confused. "That janitor was hiding something in this closet, and I wanted to see what it was…"

"That janitor, as you so rudely refer to him by, happens to be the sole witness to last night's crimes."

"What?" Harry exclaimed in shock, looking to Ewan, who was staring smugly back at him.

"I thought I told you to leave, Potter," Thurston spat, seeming to only just notice Harry's presence.

"Hang on," Ron spoke up, sounding annoyed. "How is it that he was the only witness? What was he doing near Dumbledore's office at that exact moment as to…?"

"I'm a caretaker, remember?" Ewan cut in, haughtily. "I was working on this floor when it happened."

"How lucky for you," Harry said quietly, glaring at Thurston. "I bet it makes this investigation so much easier having a witness…"

"Of course it does," Thurston replied irately. "Though your stupid questions are certainly working against all of that…"

"Why was he hiding the robes?" Draco spoke up suddenly, nodding at Ewan. Thurston simply looked at him distastefully.

"What are you talking about?" he asked briskly.

"The robes," Draco repeated slowly, now holding them up so the thin minister could see. "I found them stuffed into a pail in this closet which he tried to stop me from opening…that only leads me to believe that he hid them there…so my question is, why?"

"Those could have been put there by anyone," Thurston replied with an air of impatience, pushing the question aside with a swift wave of his hand.

"Yes well last I knew, none of the ministers here were in the practice of mistreating such valuable items as this…" Draco continued, undaunted, "and we both know none of us would be using these stairs right now if the floo grates were active."

"So?" Thurston asked, clearly aggravated. "I don't see what a pair of robes in a broom closet has to do with anything that's happened."

"Mr. Thurston someone hid these for a reason," Harry said quickly, having no idea why he was even bothering to explain this to the indifferent man. "They were in a hurry, obviously, or the robes would have been hidden better…"

"That's it…I've had enough of this," Thurston cut in suddenly. He reached forward, stealing the robes from Draco's grasp and stuffing them under his arm. "I know what you're doing, Potter…but you're just going to have to face the facts. Your precious headmaster has murdered two people…he will stand trial, and he will go to Azkaban for his crimes. I will not allow you to disrupt this investigation with your foolish suspicions and guesses because all you will succeed in doing…is slowing the process down. Now if you do not leave this building in the next five minutes, I will have you escorted out and banned from reentry."

Harry felt hot anger rising up inside of him, but knew there was nothing he could do. Arguing with Thurston was pointless, he obviously wanted Dumbledore to be found guilty and if Harry were to present him with irrefutable proof of the head minister's innocence Thurston would do everything in his power to discredit it. Stepping past Draco silently, Harry joined his friends and they quietly set off down the stairway together.

As they reached the first floor, Harry took hold of the door handle, ready to open it, when Mel's voice stopped him.

"Hey…what's that?" she asked, stepping towards the small open area to their right. She bent down, lifted something small from the dusty floor, quickly turned back to the others, and held it up.

"Now we know why the closet was unlocked," Harry commented, seeing the thick padlock in Mel's hand. "He must've been in such a hurry he knocked it over the edge while he was hiding the robes."

"Great," Ron shrugged. "How does that help us?"

"It doesn't," Hermione said glumly. "An unlocked closet means nothing…we needed those robes."

"Yeah well even if we had them, we don't know what the person who wore them actually used them for," Ron said quickly.

"Well when the ministers came to the school, to search the dark forest after Hadley was attacked, they all wore those robes," Harry began. "It was so that nothing in the forest would be aware of their presence…so they wouldn't have to worry about anything coming after them."

"So then it would make it easy for someone to sneak around," Mel said quietly.

"And since Dumbledore can usually always tell when another magic user is near," Hermione began, her eyes alight as she spoke, "whoever was wearing that cloak could have used it to take him by surprise!"

"But how in Merlin's name could they manage to kill Dumbledore's nephew and his assistant without him seeing?" Ron asked. "Don't you think he would've done something to stop that?"

"If all three of them were in the room when the real murderer was then probably," Harry nodded. "But we don't know the time frame that this all happened in…we don't know…we don't know who was killed first," he said sadly. "Maybe Albus found them…" he trailed off as the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and looked towards the stairs.

"Are you all still here?" Draco asked, obviously not caring if they answered or not.

"No Malfoy, we're a figment of your imagination, just keep walking, won't you?" Ron snapped testily.

"That was my intention," Draco sneered, narrowing his eyes at the redhead and moving for the door.

"Wait," Harry said, quickly sidestepping to block his path. "You have to help us…"

"I don't have to do anything," Draco interrupted curtly, staring emotionlessly back at Harry.

"Albus is innocent," Harry persisted. "You're telling me you're just going to walk away? Even after what you just saw?"

"What did I see, Potter…hmm?" Draco asked, challengingly. "You have no idea what you're getting into. Everything…everything…points to Dumbledore as the murderer."

"Why would he kill Travis?" Harry asked stiffly. "His own nephew…and Simone…what reason would he have to get rid of her? It doesn't make sense, don't you understand?"

"I don't know," Draco replied curtly. "What I do know, is that both of them were found dead in Dumbledore's office, seemingly by the killing curse, and when his wand was tested that was the last spell it had performed. Add that to having an eyewitness, and I'd say he's going to Azkaban…" he trailed off, looking at the stunned faces around him.

"We both know," Harry began after a long pause, "no matter what evidence there is…that Dumbledore didn't do this."

"Maybe so," Draco shrugged indifferently. "But knowing isn't going to get him off…"

"You're scared," Ron jumped in suddenly, glaring darkly at Malfoy. "You know we're right and you're not going to do anything because you don't want to chance getting yourself into trouble."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Weasley," Draco spat, his tone clearly betraying to them that Ron had been correct.

"You coward," Ron muttered, disgustedly.

"It will mean a lot more than my job if I'm caught helping you," Draco said suddenly, his eyes flashing. "I'm not stupid…I know Dumbledore would never do this…but someone wants him out of the way…to the point that two people were murdered to make it happen," he paused for a moment before adding, quietly, "What about your father…or your brother? Can't one of them help you…they have the same access I do…?"

"Draco, who's in charge of this investigation…and in part, of the ministry, right now?" Harry asked quickly.

"Mr. Thurston," Draco replied.

"Right, and Thurston knows Arthur is going to fight against what's being done," Harry said. "He doesn't care for him and I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to keep Mr. Weasley as far out of this investigation as possible…"

"So you think he trusts me?" Draco asked, arching one eyebrow. "Is that what you're getting at?"

"You tell me," Harry said quickly. "How does Thurston treat you?"

"Like anyone else, I suppose," Draco shrugged. "He's not rude, if that's what you're asking."

"So he treats you like an equal," Hermione said.

"Well he did," Draco said, before continuing quickly. "But after what just happened I doubt that'll continue. He probably already thinks I'm helping you…which I'm not," he added pointedly.

"I bet it would be easy enough for you to get back on his good side," Harry said quickly. "You never said you were helping us up there…just that you thought Ewan was hiding something and you wanted to see what it was. I'm sure Thurston would do the same if he saw an employee acting suspiciously…he can't hold it against you for long…"

"Look, I said no, alright?" Draco spoke up briskly, fixing Harry with a dark glare. "Now get out of my way, Potter, before you get me in trouble again."

Nodding stiffly, biting his tongue to stop the words he wanted to scream at the young minister, Harry moved aside and allowed Draco to step through the door, watching as it closed softly behind him.

As soon as they were once again alone, Ron let out an expletive that made Hermione's jaw drop in shock as she reprimanded him at once.

"He deserves to be called worse than that!" Ron spat stubbornly. "Stupid, rotten git…"

"I can't believe he just did that," Mel said quietly. "I can't believe he just walked away…"

"I guess we should've expected it from him," Harry said bitterly, feeling sick over Malfoy's indifference to the situation. "Let's just get out of here…we can talk about it more later."

Nodding in agreement, the four friends silently stepped out into the still crowded lobby, and made their way through to the doors that led out onto the streets of Wizarding London.

Once away from the ministry building, the four friends disapparated from the busy streets quickly, arriving back at the Burrow together. Arthur and Molly were still not home of course, and the twins told Ron that their mother had been checking in every so often, but she would be waiting at the ministry building until their father was leaving.

"That's it then," Ron said, sounding defeated as the four friends settled down in the living room. "We won't know anything else until my parents get home…"

"Hey," Ginny's voice floated into them as she poked her head through the doorway. "You're here…what took you all so long?"

"You don't want to know," Ron relied, but proceeded to tell her, with the others' help, of what had happened on their trip to the ministry.

"So…what do we do now?" Ginny whispered, having paled slightly.

"There's not much we can do until we know more," Hermione said.

"Right," Ron agreed glumly. "We have to wait until dad gets back…and see if he can tell us anything."

"Dad will probably just want you to stay out of it," Ginny said, knowingly. "Mum too…they'll think you'll get yourself into trouble."

"We're already in trouble," Harry spoke up then. "All of us…if Dumbledore goes to prison then Thurston will be acting head minister, just like he was after Fudge went missing. If he's gone through this much trouble to make sure Dumbledore is out of his way, then he probably has something all set up, assuring that he becomes the next official head minister of magic."

"Well Draco won't help us," Mel began. "We don't know yet if Arthur will, and if he does how do we know Thurston isn't seeing to it that he doesn't get all the correct information?"

"The same will go for Percy too, I'm sure," Ron said darkly. "I doubt Thurston would trust anyone in my family right now."

"Then we'll just have to find someone else," Harry said quickly. "I mean, there must be more ministers that believe Dumbledore is innocent…there have to be."

"I agree," Hermione nodded. "Now the trouble will be finding one that's on our side but who Thurston doesn't suspect," she pointed out. "Could prove to be difficult."

"Maybe McGonagall could help?" Mel suggested. "Or one of the other professors?"

"I doubt it," Harry shook his head. "I mean yes they'll help, I'm sure…but they have as much sway over the ministry as any of us do. They won't be able to find out any more than us."

"Marzia works for the ministry," Ron said suddenly. "Maybe she can…"

"Thurston definitely will have people watching her, Ron," Hermione interrupted quickly. "Probably more so than any of the others," she paused, turning her gaze to Harry. "Are you going to write Sirius?"

"If I haven't heard from him by tomorrow, then yes," Harry nodded grimly. "I hate to disturb them now…but I think he'd be more upset if I didn't tell him…"

The discussion continued on, the five of them trying to come up with other ways around Thurston, but there was just too much they didn't know as of yet. In the end, they decided to wait for Arthur, and see what he knew first, and then figure out what they needed to do from there.

As the hours passed by, however, Harry realized Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were probably not coming home for a while, and with good reason given the circumstances. He and Mel decided to head off for the evening, and Ron promised to meet them first thing in the morning, to tell them what he'd found out from his father.

Wishing everyone a good night, Harry and Mel disapparated, appearing seconds later in the living room of Harry's house, and finding someone there waiting for them.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked stiffly, seeing Draco Malfoy sitting back on one of the long couches in the den, obviously making himself at home. "Change your mind?"

"Not exactly," Draco said quietly, pushing himself up and straightening out his robes as he stood.

"Then we have nothing to say to each other," Harry said curtly, turning towards where he and Mel had left their bags earlier in their rush to get to the ministry.

"I'll pretend you didn't say that and tell you why I came anyway," Draco sneered.

Feeling all of his previous anger building up in him again, Harry spun around, only to feel it begin draining away as he suddenly realized Draco looked scared. He was trying to hide it, but the fear was showing in his eyes nonetheless.

"What is it?" he asked, curiously.

"Dumbledore's nephew…the muggle…" Draco began.

"Travis," Harry filled in for him.

"Right…well…he had a mark on him when he was found…on his wrist…and it was just like the one you described to us on Halloween…"

"The mark of the Shadow Walkers?" Mel asked, weakly, to which Draco nodded faintly in reply.

"And Simone?" Harry asked quietly, beginning once again, to feel ill, "Did she have one as well?"

"No…just Travis," Draco replied.

Harry cocked his head to the side, confused.

"That's strange…are you sure it was that mark? How did you find out?"

"Of course I'm sure," Draco said, somewhat indignantly. "I overheard two of the other ministers talking about it; they were the ones that dealt with…where the bodies were to be held for now."

"But you're sure there was nothing like that on Simone?" Mel asked.

"They only mentioned the muggle," Draco shrugged, before continuing off-handedly. "I just figured you should know…that's all."

"So, that's it? You came to say that…and that's all the help you'll give us?" Harry asked evenly. Malfoy just rolled his eyes, sighing in frustration.

"I should've known you'd be ungrateful…I'm risking a lot just by coming here…"

"Fine…thank you Draco," Harry stated flatly. "I appreciate you taking such…risks…"

"Look you don't understand," Draco began angrily. "If anyone knew I was here telling you this…let's just say it would mean-"

"A lot more than just your job," Harry interrupted curtly. "Yes you've told us, so again, thank you."

"Why do I even bother," Draco muttered darkly, leaning down to pick up the cloak he'd draped over the arm of the couch. He fastened it quickly around his neck, and without so much as a nod towards either Harry or Mel, he disapparated.

"I don't understand," Mel's voice broke through the stillness that immediately settled over the room. "If he's so against helping us…why even tell us about the mark?"

"Because he's afraid," Harry said without hesitation. "He's afraid for his own safety…and therefore for mine. If I'm hurt so is he, and my guess is that he wanted me to know about the mark because he thought the same as we did when Hermione found out it was on Caleb when he was killed…that the cult put it there. He did it more for himself than to help us…" he trailed off bitterly.

"Harry…what if it was from the cult though?" Mel asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

"Mel, don't you remember what Marzia and Dumbledore said?" Harry asked. "The shadows don't leave their mark on their victims."

"I also remember them saying you don't find the cult's victims…for a very long time," Mel whispered. "Harry…I don't want that to happen to you…" she stammered, her throat tightening around the words as she took a step closer to him.

"It won't," Harry said firmly, opening his arms and pulling her close to him. "I promise it won't."

He held her for a long while, feeling the weight of everything happening pressing heavily in on him. They had to find a way to clear Dumbledore's name…and they had to do it soon.

"Why wouldn't Simone have the mark as well?" Mel's quiet voice broke through his thoughts, and he pulled away from her slightly to meet her questioning eyes.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied honestly. "If the mark on Travis is a fake, maybe whoever put it there just didn't have time to give it to Simone as well." He paused a brief moment, before adding, "Besides…Draco only overheard people talking about it…for all we know, Simone does have the mark…we can't be sure of anything just yet."

"I still don't understand the reason for the false marks," Mel said, shivering faintly. "If it's really the truth that the cult doesn't put it there…and Adrik and Lilith know that we know this…why bother?"

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "Though it makes things much more complicated. If what happened last night was just Thurston's efforts at trying to get Dumbledore out of the way, then either someone else knows how to falsify the shadows' mark, or the Lestranges were helping him."

"Then Thurston could be a death eater," Mel said worriedly. "A death eater in control of the ministry…Harry, we have to tell someone…"

"He's not in complete control yet," Harry said grimly. "And besides, we have no proof to back it up…I don't want him knowing our suspicions until they're more than that."

Mel nodded in reluctant agreement, and sighed heavily, the strain the day was putting on her showing clearly now, and Harry gently led her over to the larger couch before lowering both of them into it.

"I'm scared, Harry," she whispered almost shamefully, laying her head tiredly against his shoulder. Harry kissed her forehead gently and held her tightly against him in a comforting embrace.

"So am I," He admitted quietly. "But we'll get through this," he said firmly. "We're going to clear Dumbledore's name, find out exactly who did this…and why."

A soft silence settled over the room and Harry sighed inwardly. His eyes slowly wandered over everything around him. The fireplace, crackling sharply, casting a pleasant glow over the den and bathing them in its warmth; the Christmas tree, shimmering as the flickering of the flames caught in the sparkling ornaments, twinkling softly. He thought about the last time he and Mel had been sitting this way, and how wonderful everything had been then; it seemed like ages ago. But, as Harry had become quite aware of in recent years, nothing was ever constant, and change could come at any minute.

He began to think again about what had happened at the ministry that day. Thurston's complete disregard to their suggestions of Dumbledore's innocence had been infuriating, but at the same time, he had known it would be this way. However, what bothered him more was Ewan…and how he had seemed familiar in some way, but Harry couldn't figure out how.

"Mel," he spoke up, half whispering. "Did you get a good look at that caretaker, Ewan…Norwood, I believe he said? I thought I recognized him from somewhere…his eyes looked familiar…" he trailed off, glancing down when she made no reply, only to find her sleeping soundly against his shoulder.

Smiling quietly, Harry simply held her there for a long moment, not wanting to stir her from her rest. He slowly slipped his legs up onto the couch under him, and gently lifted Mel's as well, before shifting their positions so they were both lying down on the plush cushions. It wasn't long before he too, was breathing deeply, and sleeping dreamlessly.

The next morning, Harry was woken by someone shaking him gently. When he peered up through his blurry vision, he could barely make out his godfather's face hovering above him.

"Harry, can you hear me? We need to talk…" Sirius was saying with what was unmistakably urgency in his tone.

"Yeah…I'm up…" Harry muttered, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. His glasses were on the arm of the chair, where he had put them the night before, and he reached up with one hand to grab them.

"So am I," Mel's voice mumbled softly from beside him, letting out a yawn, which she attempted to stifle, before sitting up awkwardly and rubbing at her eyes.

Harry pushed himself up beside her, when he suddenly realized who had woken him.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed, surprised. "You're home!"

"We came as soon as we heard," Sirius explained. "Marzia's at the ministry already…we have to get in to see Dumbledore…but they won't tell us where they're holding him right now, so she's working on that."

"We went to the ministry yesterday as well," Harry said quickly. "Thurston must be setting Dumbledore up…but I don't know how many other people are involved…"

"Did you actually speak to Thurston yesterday?" Sirius asked immediately.

"Not for very long," Harry replied grimly, before quickly explaining what had happened during the visit to the ministry on the previous day, leaving out Draco's reluctance to help them, but including the mark on Travis' wrist nonetheless.

"Ron said he'd contact us this morning…when he found out more from his dad about all of this," Harry finished.

"Do they have any explanation for why the mark would be there?" Sirius asked, clearly worried.

"I don't know," Harry replied honestly. "At least we know it wasn't the cult though," he reminded his godfather, "like Albus said…"

"I remember," Sirius nodded faintly. "They don't leave the mark on their victims…but then who is doing it?" He paused merely half a second, before rushing on without waiting for a reply. "Let's call over to the Weasley's now…maybe I can talk to Arthur…find out more…"

Harry and Mel remained where they were on the couch, while Sirius crossed to the large hearth, tossing a pinch of powder in from a jar on the ledge above it. Less than a minute later, Molly Weasley's head was floating in the flames. She and Sirius exchanged a brief conversation, before her tired, worried face faded from view.

"I'm going to the Burrow," Sirius announced.

"We'll come too," Harry said quickly, jumping up from his seat as Sirius reached for the floo powder.

Sirius hesitated a moment, but nodded.

"Alright," he said quickly. "I'll go first…"

"I'm just going to run upstairs for a moment," Mel cut in, gesturing towards her clothes. Harry realized by one glance at her, that they both must look a mess.

"We'll meet you there," Harry said with a nod, before turning and following Mel upstairs.

Less than half an hour later, Harry and Mel were on their way to the Burrow. They arrived to find Sirius and Arthur agreeing on a time to leave for the ministry, where they were going to meet up with Marzia.

"They're keeping him in Nabakza right now," Sirius told Harry. "Percy was nearby when Thurston had the guards escort Albus away, and that was where they were taking him."

"So he can have visitors then, right?" Harry asked, anxiously.

"Oh he's going to have visitors," Sirius said darkly. "Whether Thurston allows it or not."

"Don't go getting yourself into trouble now too Sirius Black," Molly's voice called out admonishingly from near the stove. The whole of the household was seated around the kitchen table at the moment, attempting to eat breakfast without anyone having much of an appetite.

"She's right," Arthur said gravely, seeing Sirius open his mouth to argue. "Marshall Thurston is quite on edge lately, don't give him a reason to send you to prison as well. He already tried it once with Harry…we don't need…"

"What?" Sirius exclaimed, his eyes flashing furiously as he turned to face his godson. "When did this happen?"

Harry groaned inwardly, having left that part out earlier to avoid just this reaction.

"It was yesterday, shortly after we managed to get upstairs," Harry explained quickly. "But he didn't arrest me, so let's…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sirius cut in.

"Because it wasn't important," Harry said quickly. "The argument was over so quickly, I didn't even think about it after…I figured it would be better just to concentrate on clearing Albus' name."

"Exactly," said Arthur, cutting off any further replies from Sirius. "Let's get going then, shall we?" he asked, pushing away from the table and standing up.

"Should we come too?" Ron asked, looking up at his father.

"Not today, no," Arthur replied evenly. "Marshall is sure to be upset as it is that Sirius is going to be there…we don't need all of you there as well…besides, technically, you aren't allowed to be present while the ministry is conducting an investigation."

"What investigation?" Hermione asked, sardonically. "It seems like they all just decided he was guilty and that's the end of it."

"I know it seems that way," Arthur said sadly. "But trust me, it isn't. There is great support behind Albus right now…but we can't simply act in haste. We have to find as many people as we can that will side with us…as well as any evidence in our favor…then we will have something to defend him with at the trial."

"Then let's get going," Sirius said quickly, already beside Arthur, before turning to Harry. "I'll see you at home later."

Harry nodded faintly, watching as his godfather and Mr. Weasley moved to the hearth, and disappeared in the swirling green flames.

"I guess that's that," Mel said glumly, as the four left the kitchen and moved into the den, lowering themselves onto the couches. "What else can we do?"

"At the ministry, nothing," Harry shrugged. "Like Arthur said…if Thurston sees us there, it won't be a pleasant exchange, I'm sure."

"We just have to wait and hope they can figure this out then," Ron said quietly. "They know about the cloak we found at least…maybe they can manage to find out where Thurston put it…"

"Probably in his fireplace," Mel said darkly. "He was too anxious to get it away from us…same for that custodian…Ewan."

The others nodded, and Harry cleared his throat softly, before speaking.

"Did any of you think that Ewan looked…familiar, at all?" he asked, hesitantly. "I mean I think he did…his eyes, at least…"

"Yes!" Hermione cried suddenly. "His eyes…I thought that too!"

Harry glanced to Ron who had one eyebrow raised in a puzzled expression, and Mel who seemed to be concentrating on remembering his face.

"I…he…might've looked…familiar," Ron said after a pause. "I didn't get a very good look at him I suppose."

"Same for me," Mel nodded slowly. "I can't recall feeling that I recognized him."

"I didn't get a very good look at him either," Hermione spoke up. "But I know those eyes…" she trailed off, her brow furrowed in thought before she sighed heavily. "I just can't think of where from!" she said in frustration.

"Well I did get a good look," Harry said quietly. "And I can't think of why I recognize him either. He, himself doesn't look familiar."

"Well one thing I'm fairly certain of," Ron spoke up evenly, "Is that he definitely couldn't be a real employee at the ministry…and not just because Malfoy didn't notice him. I doubt he'd recognize any of the cleaning staff, or that he ever bothers to look at them."

"I agree," Hermione nodded. "It definitely seemed like he was making it up…plus when Mr. Weasley checked," she began explaining to Harry and Mel, "he found a hastily written file for Ewan, showing him as a new employee."

"Hastily written?" Harry asked. "If they were planning this…why wouldn't they take the time to make it look…real?"

"Maybe they forgot and had to do it at the last minute," Ron shrugged.

"Or maybe…something went wrong," Mel said quietly. "Maybe they weren't expecting to have to pretend Ewan was an employee."

"It would explain why the robes were stashed away so carelessly as well," Hermione nodded. "If they thought they'd need to do that…they probably would've had a better hiding place prepared."

"Right," Harry nodded. "Whoever hid the robes knocked the lock over the edge…he had to have been rushing or he would've been more careful."

"It had to have been Ewan," Ron said, resolutely. "He was the one trying to stop us from getting in…he knew the robes were there…and he ran to get Thurston the moment he could no longer stop us from getting into the broom cupboard."

"So now the question is, what does Ewan have to gain from this?" Hermione asked, thoughtfully. "Is there something in it for him…or is he just doing Thurston a favor…?"

For a few moments, the room was filled with only contemplative silence, until Harry cleared his throat softly.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see…" he shrugged faintly, "hopefully Sirius and Marzia can find out more than we already know…"

Two days passed, and Harry was growing restless as he and his friends could do nothing other than sit and wait. There was no research they could do to help, no books they could find any answers in…and they were not permitted anywhere near the sixth floor of the ministry building. So when Sirius came to Harry midway through the week, telling him they would all be allowed to visit Albus in Nabakza, he couldn't wait to be on his way.

Thurston had wanted to forbid any visitors from seeing Dumbledore, but Arthur had shot that down rather quickly, saying it was necessary to speak with him in order to hear his side of the story, and help him prepare for the trial. Marzia has also added that it would look very bad for Thurston if he allowed no one to attempt to help the head minister. Thurston quickly agreed, stating that Albus could have one personal visit only…and it would be monitored. Any other visits must be kept to those ministers wishing to speak to the head minister about the investigation.

The trial date was set for the end of April, much to Thurston's dislike, but he had little say in this matter. He had suggested to set the date for the end of January, knowing full well that the defense would have little time to collect any evidence by then. But the trial had to be held soon, nonetheless, as there could be no new head minister appointed until their was a decision on the guilt or innocence of the current one.

The visit with Dumbledore was scheduled for the day before Harry had to be back at Hogwarts, to be ready for classes to begin again. He, Mel, Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Marzia would be going to meet with the head minister at eleven that morning, and Harry was ready to go long before that time. Ron and Hermione arrived to meet them at ten-thirty, and shortly after, they took the floo network one at a time to get to Nabakza.

When Harry's feet touched the ground after traveling through the swirling of colors, a dank, musty odor immediately filled his lungs and he coughed into his fist roughly, before straightening up to take a look around.

"This…this is horrible," he whispered to no one in particular.

They were only in the visitors' entryway, but everything looked rotted and decayed. The walls were a putrid, grainy brownish-orange, and it looked as though they hadn't always been that way. The large discolored stains carried over onto the rather unsteady floor. The stones below their feet were hardly intact, and walking on them reminded Harry of the feeling of walking on gravel, only worse. The jagged rocks pushed into the soles of their shoes, and it was far from comfortable to stand in one place for very long. The only opening in the room that Harry could see, appeared to be a hallway a short distance to their right, their were no windows or doors.

"It is," Marzia spoke up from behind him, agreeing with his comment. "But still, it's better than Azkaban."

Harry shuddered, not even wanting to think about it, when a raspy voice spoke up from just a few feet away.

"Who are you here for?" asked a ghastly pale man with overly large green eyes that didn't blink. He wore long robes that seemed as though they might once have been white, but were now stained in rusty blotches.

"Albus Dumbledore," Marzia spoke up at once, stepping to the front of the group.

The unhealthily thin man nodded faintly, and turned slightly to his right, gesturing someone that Harry could not see forward. Half a second later, what looked like a ghost floated into view. But it was not a ghost; the being before them was decidedly gray in coloring rather than the silver color associated with regular ghosts. Its arms hung low at its sides, and it looked ready to collapse. Simply remaining upright appeared to be using up a good amount of the being's effort. But aside from that, it seemed quite possible that this thing was, at one time, human.

"What is it?" Mel whispered faintly.

"A key," Marzia replied quietly, paying little attention to the confused expressions her answer drew, and waited while the pale man gave it instructions.

"Take them to the visitor hall, table seven," the thin man rasped to the key. It nodded slowly, before turning and beginning to float away. "Mr. Dumbledore will be there when you arrive," the man continued, looking back towards the group as he spoke, then waited as they began to follow the key, before turning and exiting through a door on the opposite side of the room.

"That wasn't there before," Hermione mused, glancing at the door the man had gone through, only to see it vanish seconds later.

"He's the only one who can go through it," Marzia explained. "It only appears for him."

"Who is he?" Harry asked. They were walking just behind the slow moving key down a long, dimly lit hall, which smelled of rust and mildew. The floor was still unsteady beneath their feet, only becoming worse as they moved along.

"The warden."

"What about when he's not here?" Ron asked. "Someone else must be able to get through…"

"He's always here," Marzia replied. "He's the only one that can get into the prison without a key."

"How does the key work?" Hermione asked, eyeing the floating grey figure moving on just barely ahead of them.

"You'll see," Marzia replied, gesturing in front of them. The others glanced up to see they were nearing a set of bars, which completely blocked off the hallway they were in.

The key stopped in front of the bars and raised its right hand above its head, touching it to the ceiling. For a moment, the hard stone rippled outwards from the being's touch, and a second later, the bars were gone.

"One at a time," the key said in a voice that was hard and emotionless. Sirius and Marzia glanced at each other briefly.

"I'll go first," he said quickly. "To make sure nothing unexpected is on the other side…"

"And I'll wait until everyone's through," she nodded. Harry could only stare at the two, confused. From where he stood, he could see the continuation of the hallway. It seemed to stretch on for ages…but they could see what was in front of them just fine. However, when Sirius stepped forward and past where the bars had been only seconds ago, he vanished.

"Where…?" Harry began, looking uncertainly from the space his godfather had just been standing, to Marzia.

"It's alright," she replied hastily. "But let's not waste time…keep going."

Harry nodded, not sure exactly what was happening but fully trusting Sirius and Marzia. He began to move forward, over the jagged stones beneath his feet, nearly losing his balance as he came close to the bars, but regained it a second later, and started to step through. Ron, however, was not quite as agile in his attempt, stepping on the sharp end of a particularly large stone and pitching forward. Harry felt his friend's hand graze his back, and tried to turn to help him, but it was too late. The momentum had already begun to carry him forward and he hit the ground, hard, cracking his elbows on the stone floor.

In the span of half a second, Harry realized two things. One, the room he could now see was considerably cleaner and brighter than the hallway he had just been in. And two, Ron hadn't fallen on top of him. This was all he had time to think, however, before a sharp pain seared through his left ankle, and Harry inhaled sharply, sitting up at once and reaching down to get whatever it was off of him.

The clean, smooth room swam partially out of view, and the hallway reappeared, but it was as if he were seeing it from underwater, the two places overlapping. Harry realized with dawning horror that nothing was on top of his ankle…the pressure he was feeling was coming from the bars that weren't supposed to be there. Somehow they had reappeared, and his ankle was caught between two of them, which were slowly pushing in, unrelenting to the obstacle in their path.

He gritted his teeth against the pain, struggling in vain to free himself. Someone knelt at his side, but he couldn't tell who it was, and he was positive he was going to lose his foot any second, when suddenly everything stopped. The bars vanished, as did the hallway, and Sirius was pulling him away from the entrance.

"What was that?" Harry breathed, trying to calm himself from the unexpected shock of what had happened. Sirius opened his mouth to answer, when Ron appeared behind him, and immediately crossed to where Harry was sitting, on the floor, dropping to his knees beside his friend.

"I'm sorry…I'm really sorry…are you okay?" he asked, anxiously.

"You're sorry?" Harry repeated, confused. "For what?"

Hermione came through then, followed seconds later by Mel, and then Marzia, who immediately knelt down to check Harry's ankle, while the others asked him if he was alright.

"I'm fine," he replied, still feeling a little shaky, and looking to Marzia for an explanation.

"How is he?" Sirius asked, shifting his position so he could see the wound better.

"Not broken," Marzia replied, sounding quite relieved as she looked up. She pulled out her wand, touching it to Harry's ankle, and he immediately felt an ice cold chill encompass his lower leg. "Sorry," Marzia muttered as Sirius helped his godson to his feet. "But if you don't want it to swell…"

"No, it's alright," Harry nodded quickly. "But…what exactly happened back there?"

"When Ron tripped, he knocked you forward, but as only one person can get through the gates at a time, it was quickly shut off to him after you went through," Marzia began. "He caught hold of the key, however, and that's why the bars started to close over your ankle."

"Caught hold of the key?" Harry repeated. "You mean you can actually touch that thing?"

Marzia nodded and Ron shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry," he said again.

"So why did touching the key make the bars start to close?" Mel asked.

"It's a security measure," Marzia explained. "So that if one of the prisoners ever tried to force a key to lead him out, they would be unable to escape."

"That's a bit…harsh," Hermione said, cringing at the thought.

"But effective," Marzia replied. "And if a prisoner ever did manage to get through the bars without the use of a key, they would be trapped in the corridor forever, as it is unending."

"Wouldn't someone try to find them though?" Harry asked. "I mean…they wouldn't just let that person…" he trailed off, seeing Marzia shake her head gravely.

"They don't take kindly to any attempts at escaping," she said quietly, turning her head as another being which resembled a ghost floated into the empty room. This one was quite round and looked almost plum colored. It crossed the short distance to where the small group stood and glanced over them once with its dull, flat expression.

Ron, who was standing closest to the chubby figure turned a questioning gaze towards Marzia.

"What is…?" he began, but stopped abruptly as the plump being surged forward. It moved much quicker than Harry thought it would ever have been able to, passing directly through everyone in the small group one after the other, before finishing with Sirius and floating off through the wall it had come through.

Harry looked slowly down, expecting to find himself covered in whatever the being had been made out of, but there was nothing. His clothes were just as they were a moment before.

"I feel like I've been dipped in honey," Ron said in a strained voice, wiping absently at his arms, which were clean.

"That was disgusting," Mel agreed, shuddering involuntarily.

"Sorry," Marzia said. "I should've warned you."

"Another security check?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, to make sure we're not smuggling anything in to the prisoners."

"But they let us keep our wands?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"They check again before we leave to make sure we still have everything that we brought in with us," Marzia replied. "But yes, wands are allowed…like I said before, if you don't have a key…a wand isn't going to get you very far anyway."

"This way," a voice from behind them spoke up, and Harry glanced to see the key waiting by the bars they had just come through. The group crossed back towards the gate again, and Harry could see the hallway on the other side.

"One at a time," the key said once the bars had vanished, in the same dull tone it had taken earlier.

Harry decided to keep his questions to himself, not seeing how they would get anywhere going back the way they had come, but was not entirely surprised to find yet another new room once he had crossed through this time.

After the last person reappeared, the key followed them in and addressed them curtly.

"You have one hour," he said while raising a limp arm and pointing across the room. Harry looked, seeing the room they were in had many candles lining the stone walls, and several thick wooden tables all around. Some were occupied by quietly speaking couples, some were not, but the one the key was pointing at had just one person sitting at it.

Harry felt a mixture of emotions as his eyes fell upon the figure of Albus Dumbledore, sitting alone at his table. There were actual security guards in this room; they were standing about and listening in on all of the conversations taking place. Four of them were hovering around Dumbledore, watching him carefully as if he were some dangerous prisoner who might attempt an escape at any second. But one look at the older wizard would make the very idea seem ludicrous.

Albus looked overtired; there were dark circles under his eyes and his long white hair looked rough and dry. The almost regal blue robes he could usually be found wearing were gone, and in their place were dingy, tattered grey ones. There were thin, worn out shoes on his feet, which Harry could see at once would make it terribly painful to walk through the hallway they had been in a few moments earlier. What made it worse, however, were thick gold manacles, which were clamped securely over the old wizard's ankles, holding him to the chair. The other prisoners' didn't have them from what Harry could see, and they were similar to the chains that had been used during the trials against suspected death eaters, which he had seen in the Pensieve all those years ago.

Albus smiled wanly, lowering the copy of the Daily Prophet he'd been looking through as his visitors neared the table, and Harry saw something else in the head minister's eyes…something he was trying to hide. Sadness.

"Good morning," Albus nodded, trying to sound pleasant, but unable to fully hide the strain in his voice. This was the worst Harry had ever seen Dumbledore look, and he had to use everything within him to not show the horror and sadness he felt, for what was happening to the former headmaster. He had to believe they would get through this, and Dumbledore's name would be cleared.

"Albus, how are you?" Sirius asked concernedly, looking over the head minister's condition with obvious disgust as the small group took seats around the table. "We'll speak with the ministry immediately, you shouldn't be treated like…"

"Sirius, do not worry yourself over it," Dumbledore said, shaking his head faintly. "I am fine for now, and there are much bigger matters that must be addressed."

"We're going to get you out of here," Marzia said, confidently. "But we need to know what happened in your office that night. Thurston's given us his own version of it…"

"Has he?" Dumbledore asked wryly. "What is it that he's told you?"

"That he believes you murdered Travis…and then Simone for catching you do it…he never gave any reason as to why he thought you would do this though…"

"Because there isn't one," Sirius commented darkly. "Though I would bet my life he's the one who's set you up."

"We need you to tell us what actually happened that night, Albus," Marzia said gently. "I'm sure it's probably the last thing you want to think about…but it's the only way we can start figuring this out."

"I understand," Albus nodded faintly. "And I will tell you everything I told the ministers that night…"

Harry watched as Dumbledore's eyes flickered down over the paper he had been reading. It was the issue that contained the original story of his arrest. He had it opened to a page in the middle, showing a picture of his office the morning after. The bodies had been taken away by this point, but everything else had been left as it was. There were items from the desk splayed over the floor as if a struggle had taken place, and ministers mulling about examining everything in sight, looking for evidence.

Albus passed a light hand over the picture, an intent look in his eyes, before he raised his gaze to face the others once more.

"Everything was going nicely, the night of the New Year's celebration," he began quietly. "I asked Travis to remain in the office every so often, while I went downstairs, to make sure there were no problems. Each time I would return to find him by the window, waiting patiently for the light show to begin. Then, just before midnight, I was on my way back so I could watch the fireworks with my nephew, but as I came into the hallway, I noticed the door had been cracked open. As I started towards it, a blue light illuminated the doorway to the office, and I rushed forward to see what had happened…"

He trailed off, and Harry knew the look in his eyes all too well. He knew there were many times when he must've had that very same glazed stare. Dumbledore was seeing what had happened again, replaying the scene in his mind, not for the first or last time.

"Travis was on the floor, in front of the desk," Albus spoke again at last, his voice stiff and strained. "I went to him immediately, but there was nothing I could do…"

"You don't have to tell us any more about that," Marzia said gently, taking one of the head minister's hands and squeezing it reassuringly. Harry nodded as she spoke, hating to see Dumbledore look so helpless…so vulnerable. It scared him, and he wanted more than anything to make things right again…

"Several pieces which I kept on my desk had been knocked to the floor," Dumbledore continued, his voice steady once more. "I had glanced around when I entered, but saw no one else in the room. As I stood to take a better look around, I believed I heard a noise near the door, but when I stopped to listen, the fireworks began. I neither sensed nor heard anyone else in the office with me after that, but there must have been someone there. A few seconds later, I was hit with a curse, and blacked out."

"So…you never saw Simone at any point during this?" Sirius asked, curiously.

"No," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head faintly. "It was not until later, after I was woken that I was told she was dead as well."

"Maybe it was her," Ron spoke up quietly. "What do we know about her, really?"

"We know she was killed as well," Harry said evenly.

"Right but what if someone set her up too?" Ron persisted. "Say Simone was being paid to do this…and in order to make sure she never told, the person who hired her killed her."

"I do not believe Simone had any previous knowledge of what happened that night," Dumbledore began quietly. "I've known her a good many years, and find it highly unlikely she would involve herself in this."

"Even still, better to not just overlook things," Sirius said gently.

"I agree," Harry said, "But I don't think Simone had anything to do with this. Especially after we found the-" he stopped abruptly as the head minister reached out from just beside him, and grasped on of his hands. Harry looked at him questioningly, but Dumbledore made no reply, gesturing instead by glancing towards the nearest security guard and back.

"I've told you all that I remember," Albus spoke up evenly, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair and clearing his throat. "I hope it helps."

"Your time is up old man," one of the guards said then, stepping up behind Dumbledore's chair.

"No it isn't!" Sirius exclaimed angrily, jumping up from his seat. Marzia was up in an instant as well, but more so to make sure her husband didn't do anything rash. "It's barely been half an hour yet!" he continued, his eyes flashing.

"Then maybe your watch is broken, because mine says your time is up," the guard replied challengingly, smirking haughtily at Sirius as if daring him to make a move.

"It is alright, Sirius," Dumbledore said then, gathering up his paper as two of the guards moved to unlock the shackles from the chair. Everyone stood while Dumbledore was helped out of his seat, and the guards began to lead him away. As he passed Harry, he reached out and took one of the younger wizard's arms, thrusting the paper into his hand.

"Please, take that away. I don't need it any more," Dumbledore said quietly, meeting Harry's gaze for half a second.

"What's this about?" the lead guard spoke up again, looking suspiciously at the paper in Harry's hand. "Let me see that."

Harry obliged, holding up the paper to show the guard what it was.

"We can just throw that out here," the guard said uncertainly, reaching out to take it.

"I'd rather keep it, if you don't mind," Harry said quickly, fighting the urge to take a step back, feeling something about the paper was important, but having no idea what it could be. "I lost my own copy from that day, and would like to look this one over."

The guard seemed as if he were going to refuse the request, and grabbed the paper anyway, turning it over in his hands and examining the pages while the others stood tensely and waited. Finally, however, he could find nothing that stood out about the article, and tossed it back to Harry, before turning to the other guards.

"Alright then, take him back to his cell," he said impatiently, darting suspicious glances at the group as he followed the guards out. Harry let out the breath he'd been holding and glanced at the copy of the Daily Prophet in his hands. He had no idea if it contained anything that would be of use to them, but could hardly wait to get back home to find out.

"This is impossible," Ron said, throwing up his hands in exasperation and pushing his chair away from the table. "We've been at this for over three hours…there's nothing in here!"

"There has to be," Harry stated, determinedly, "Albus wouldn't have given us this paper just to toss it in the trash for him." But his eyes were starting to ache, and he could feel a dull throbbing in his temples. The small group had returned to his house immediately after their short visit with Dumbledore to examine the paper he'd given them. But as of yet, they could find no clues or hints…nothing that would help them prove the head minister's innocence.

"Well we've checked all the articles…all the pictures," Hermione said, sitting back and rubbing tiredly at her eyes. "Hopefully Marzia and Sirius get back soon, so we'll have something to compare it with."

Harry nodded, leaning back in his seat for a moment and stretching slowly, before pulling himself closer to the table and opening to the picture Dumbledore had been looking at in the prison.

This had to be where it was…whatever it was. Harry glanced over the picture, ignoring the ministry men moving about and wishing something would just catch his eye. He looked at the bookshelves, the paintings, the desk… The items on the floor were the ones he always remembered seeing in the headmaster's office, the small antique clock, the crystal ball, the paperweight. There were things out of place from whatever struggle had occurred, but there was something about this picture…

Sighing in frustration, Harry sat back once more, impatiently flicking the paper a few feet away from him.

"Don't," Mel said softly, taking one of his hands in hers and squeezing it gently. "We're all just tired, and we've been looking at this paper for too long…"

"But we don't have time for a break," Harry replied, smiling back gratefully, nonetheless.

"Couldn't he have handed us just one page of the paper?" Ron asked, pulling the article towards him from across the table and beginning to flip through it for the umpteenth time. "The one we're supposed to be concentrating on, maybe?"

"The guards were suspicious enough as it was," Hermione said, moving her chair closer so she could look on with him. "If he'd done a specific page they never would have let us out with it."

"I think he told us what page we're supposed to be looking at," Harry insisted. "It has to be that picture…"

"We've looked at it already," Ron replied tiredly, continuing to flip the pages. "A hundred times at least…there's nothing there…" he trailed off as the fireplace in the next room lit suddenly with green flames. A second later, Sirius and Marzia emerged into the den, and headed to the kitchen to join the others.

"You would not believe how hard it was to find a copy of this," Marzia spoke up testily as she set her copy of the Daily Prophet down on the table and lowered herself into a seat.

"Every shop had sold out pretty quickly after the issue was released," Sirius said, looking just as agitated as he sat down beside his wife. "When we finally found one, the shop keeper said it was a very valuable issue, and only gave it to us after we paid him ten sickles…" he trailed off, shaking his head irately at the thought.

"That's insane," Ron said, looking aghast over the very idea.

"All I can say is this better help us," Sirius said, watching as Hermione opened the second copy of the paper to the picture of the office. Everyone remained silent, as both she and Ron examined the identical pictures for several long minutes, but soon enough, Ron let out a defeated sigh and sat back.

"There's no difference…not one," he said darkly. Hermione finally looked up as well, shaking her head sadly.

"Can I see them?" Harry asked quickly, reaching across the table as Ron slid both papers towards him. He set them up side by side, folding the rest of the paper underneath so he could get the pictures as close to one another as possible. Then, he let his eyes wander over everything slowly, looking back and forth from one to the other, searching for even the smallest detail. As his gaze flickered over the farthest painting to the right, however, Harry took a moment to examine it. At first, he couldn't see a difference between the two; only half the painting was visible in either picture, which seemed to be a person simply standing by a chair.

"Did you find something?" Sirius asked anxiously, to which Harry shook his head, uncertainly.

"I don't know," he replied absently, trying not to break his concentration as he examined the painting further. The person's head was absent from the picture as that part had been cut off when the photograph was snapped, and while the bottom half of the paintings seemed to match exactly, it was the upper half which Harry kept lingering over, his eyes straining, and at long last, focusing on the one difference.

"There!" he said, almost laughing with relief over finally finding something. "The paintings…look. In the regular issue you see the top of the painting is cut off right around the chest area…"

"And in the one Albus gave us as well," Sirius said, gesturing with his head towards the other article.

"It seems that way…but look," Harry said pointing. "See that? You can see the person in this picture has on a broche or pin or something…it almost blends in…but you can see the outline of it…you can see more of the painting!"

"Only your eyes could find something like that," Ron commented dryly, his own eyes finally focusing in on the spot Harry was talking about.

"So then, Dumbledore did something to make the painting in the newspaper he gave us hang a bit lower than the one in the regular newspaper," Hermione said slowly. "But why?"