Chapter 38 - Contemplate and Serenade

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When Kingsley came to Grimmauld place - right on the hour, as promised - he didn't come alone.

Accompanying him were three wizards who Harry recognized as part of the group Kingsley had been standing with when he had offered Harry the Elder Wand. The sandy haired wizard was the only person Harry recognized, and when he held out his hand, Randy Flestern quirked his lips slightly and shook his hand with a firm grip before going back to the grim expression that he always sported. The other two wizards seemed disinterested and the way they held themselves made Harry think that they were bodyguards. He learnt how false his suspicions were only a moment later.

"Aiden Becker, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Neal Pacey, the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," Kingsley said in an authoritative voice as he introduced them. He then turned to Ron, his expression apologetic. "I would have asked your father, but I didn't think it would be fair to involve him just yet."

Ron mumbled that he understood and that it was fine by him, while Hermione led them to the kitchen. It was a surreal experience sitting down opposite these men who, together, ran the Ministry for Magic. And they all seemed to have some grave news to tell him.

"You haven't been careful, Mr Potter," Randal Flestern stated the moment he took his seat. "We informed you that it was important for you to stay hidden as much as you can. Walking around when you feel like it, especially without a glamour charm..."

"Harry doesn't need a glamour charm," Hermione piped in before her face contorted with worry. "Does he?"

The look the four Ministry officials gave each other caused him to worry. "Do I? Need a glamour charm, I mean."

Kinsley turned to face him, his expression serious. "There has been an attack."

Ron's eyes widened. "An attack?"

But Kingsley kept his gaze solely on Harry's, as if he was trying to convey something of immense importance. "We believe you were the target."

Even before Harry could let this new information sink in, Becker pulled out a folder from his robes and pushed a photograph towards him. "Do you recognize this man?"

Harry saw a struggling, screaming wizard with a short, snow white beard as he was held by two Aurors. His sleeves were rolled up to show the fading dark mark on his left forearm. Harry had never seen the wizard in his life, and shook his head to silently state that fact. When he looked up at the Ministry officials, they looked disappointedly at each other. "Who did he attack?"

"A boy, no older than fifteen," Neal Pacey stated in a tone of contemplation. "He had performed a glamour charm on himself to imitate your features."

"Why?" Harry asked incredulously. Who in their right mind would want to imitate him?

Flestern looked at him in all seriousness. "It was for his sister, Mr Potter. The child is suffering from a disease that the Healers say have no known cure. Her dream was to meet you. Her brother was simply trying to make his sister's wish come true by making her believe that you were there to serenade her with a song. It was while he was stepping out of St. Mungo's that the attack happened. After interviewing witnesses, we realized that this Death Eater had been at St. Mungo's visiting a patient when he had seen the boy leave, wearing your glasses and signature scar. It wasn't difficult to confuse the two of you. He was roughly the same height, and had the same body type."

There was only one thing that stood out from what Flestern had said. "He had the same body type?" he whispered in dread.

Becker looked at him with sympathy that seemed more distanced than sincere. "I'm sorry to say that the boy was hit by the killing curse. There was nothing anyone could have done. Luckily, the culprit was apprehended because he was so focused on killing you that he didn't notice one of my Aurors who was entering the building to interview a witness."

Hermione looked at them in horror. "Why haven't we heard about this? Why isn't this in the Daily Prophet?"

"We can't let people know about these attacks, Ms Granger," Pacey said slowly, though somewhat sternly. "There would be mass panic."

"And what do people think it is now?" she asked in an accusatory tone.

Pacey shrugged. "A spell backfired. That's how we're explaining it."

"A spell backfired?" Ron questioned in disbelief. "Who would believe that load of bollocks?" Harry was vaguely surprised that Hermione didn't chastise his best mate on his use of language.

"You would be surprised," Kingsley mumbled dryly. "People would believe anything if the right people tell them." After a moment of silence, he turned towards Harry. "It's not safe to be you anymore, Harry. Do you understand what we're telling you?"

But Harry found himself too distracted by the image of the murderous wizard in the moving picture. He felt sick to his stomach.

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TBC