Chapter 31
Draco had no idea what to expect as he arrived on scene. He had been bracing himself for the worst, which basically was the equivalent of muggle hell on earth, which to be honest, wasn't all that far off from the reality of the situation.
He was currently running through the building, wand in his hand. He really had no idea what he was trying to prevent, but he had to do something; anything. If the Ministry fell today, then the children's memories of the future would come to pass exactly as it had once before. And the last thing they could afford was to send them back in time again, especially when they had no way of doing so, and that it would ruin the time continuum to have two versions of the children back at the same time.
There were so many people wounded or dead on the ground, and he felt his heart breaking. He wished he had been earlier; maybe then they would have been able to prevent all of this from happening.
"Help," he heard a feeble voice call out, "Somebody please help me! I'm trapped under this pillar and I can't get out!"
He looked up ahead and saw a woman on the ground with a heaving rock crushing her leg, her wand a few yards out of her reach.
As he rushed over, he cast a wordless levitating charm, to free her leg. The brunette haired woman struggled to sit up properly, and he could tell that her leg was easily broken.
"What happened?" Draco asked her, trying to cast a bone setting charm on her leg.
She let out a sob, "It was so horrible. I'm not even all that sure what happened, really. I was just on the lift, trying to get to another floor, when I heard terrible screams. I feel like I can still hear their voices in my mind, echoing away with their pain and anguish. When I got down here, the wards over the Ministry that provides protection were being brought down by this man with a large staff. And the moment it fell, they immediately started casting spells to bring down the structure of this building and few of them even cast dark spells on others. I tried to run for help, I really did, but one of them saw me and caused a statue to tumble and trap me. And then she laughed in my face."
"I'm so sorry," Draco told her. "Your leg should be fine for you to walk on enough to get to the hospital. You can't stay here; you need to get out before they come back to this hallway."
"I thought they were supposed to be protesting and wanting a change," she cried out, as she buried her face into his chest. She couldn't have been that much younger than him, but at the moment he saw a scared little girl. So he tried his best to comfort her, "They were the ones saying we were corrupt and that they wanted to bring a peaceful change. This isn't peaceful. This is anything but peaceful."
"What's your name?" he asked the girl gingerly.
"Natalie McDonald," she said softly. "I was in Gryffindor," she sniffled, "A few years younger than you."
"I need you to do me a favour, alright Natalie?" he asked her softly. "I need you to be true to your house and be brave. I need you to apparate out of this building, and get to safety. Can you do that for me?"
She nodded, as she pulled out her wand, "Thank you," she said to him, before apparating away.
"How bloody touching," he heard a voice sneer out. Draco looked up from the ground and saw one of the members of the other side standing above him.
The man was dressed in dark robes as his hood was pulled over his head, like the rest of them. It was slightly strange to think about that they barely had a costume more than some dark robes, but he couldn't help but wonder if that was the point. There was nothing flashy about these members; no masks or marks. It was so regular, like they had just pulled the hoods of their robes over their eye with a slight lengthening charm.
But that wasn't even what struck him the most. It was that he recognized the voice of the person towering over him. And he hated that voice.
"So you recognized me, didn't you?" the man let out a dark laugh, "You may be an absolute pile of filth, Malfoy, but you aren't stupid. Surprises me that you continue to fight on this side though. But you always were one to take the losing side weren't you."
The man pulled down his hood, and revealed Justin Finch-Fletchley standing in front of him.
"Why?" Draco couldn't help but ask, "You were all but bragging about your promotion a few weeks ago, what changed. Did you just decide that you don't care about this place any more, or the people in it? Was it really all that terrible?"
Justin rolled his eyes at him, "You just don't get it, do you Malfoy? There never was a promotion; well not an official Ministry one. I've been promised to head of the Auror department after all of this is over, and we finally take over and implement the new ways. Or I suppose it would be implementing the old ways, wouldn't it?"
"And why would you get that?" Draco couldn't help but ask, "Are you some sort of important person in their ranks?"
Justin could say what he wanted, but Draco definitely wasn't stupid. Yes, he might have been in danger at the moment, but for the first time in weeks they had an opportunity to get firsthand information about the organization they were struggling to bring down. And Draco would be damned if he let it slip by. If he was really lucky, he might even get a name of the person in charge of the entire operation. Besides, the Hufflepuff forgot that Draco still had his wand on him, and Draco wasn't about to let that slip any time soon. Second-hand Auror his ass.
"Of course I'm important," Justin boasted. "I matter in the ranks, which is far more than I could even say about you. Like honestly, you were like a second-hand Death Eater, and now that you're apparently reformed, you're a second-hand Auror. For a family that used to be on the top, how does it feel being so lower class all the time? Oh I'm sorry; that was slightly inconsiderate of me," Justin finished with a smirk.
"I'm sure you are," Draco said sarcastically. "Important I mean. I bet all you do is fetch tea for everyone and kiss their asses. But if it makes you feel better to say you're in charge, then I'm sure you are."
"I'm not in charge!" Justin snapped, "And yes, I am vital to all of this, mind you. He made me his right hand man for a reason! And if that stupid Slytherin thinks he can kiss up and steal my spot, then Marcus has another thing coming for him!"
Draco's eyes widened in shock. Marcus Flint was on their side? A part of him wanted to insist that there was no way Marcus could be one of them. Not after he went out of his way to warn his former housemate about what was happening to try and save his life.
But the other half knew it to be true. He knew there was something off about Marcus' behaviour when he started demanding more answers and prying to try and find out what Draco was hiding; or who.
Finch-Fletchley seemed to realize the slip of his tongue, but didn't look too upset by the fact as he simply leered at Draco. "Surprised that you've been betrayed of one of your own? Just because you're too stupid to pick the right side, doesn't mean that everyone is."
Figuring that he had learned about all the useful information he was going to gain from Justin, he wandlessly cast a disarming charm, to keep the element of surprise. As Justin's wand flew into his hands, Draco quickly cast a stunning and binding charm that were modified so only he could undo it. The last thing he needed were for the people he defeated to free themselves and continue coming after them.
"What have you done?" Justin screamed. "Release me, Malfoy, or it'll be your head on the line! If you think He will be happy once he learns about what you've done, then you have another thing coming your way! I will get free, Malfoy, and once I do you can bet your ass that I'm coming straight for you. I promise you that much!"
It was Draco's turn to roll his eyes. He got onto his feet and muttered a silencing charm as he exclaimed, "Much better. Thank you for being an absolute tosser; makes me feel a lot less guilty about leaving you here." He could see Finch-Fletchley's eyes widen in protest, but he continued walking down the hall as he let out a small smile. He had been wanting to shut that idiot up for years.
Lee Jordan was in shock. He had been contacted by George less than half an hour ago, asking him to do a public service announcement about what was currently happening at the Ministry of Magic.
To be perfectly candid, Lee didn't know what to believe. He could see where the protesters were coming from; the Ministry had kept so many secrets over the years, and it nearly always seemed to come back and bite them all the ass. So yeah, having transparency might be a good thing. But at the same time he never would have imagined they would go as far as trying to collapse the Ministry. He had heard from George about the children and what had apparently happened in the future, even meeting them a few times at the Order meetings, so he definitely did believe that it was likely that all of it actually happened the way he had been informed.
He just didn't expect it to all happen so soon.
After the war, Lee had gotten his own wizarding channel where he would broadcast anything from Quidditch matches to news and what was happening in the country. PotterWatch had taken off with an unexpected amount of popularity during the war, and it honestly had helped his career.
So now Lee sat in his studio with the equipment, ready to air. He still wasn't even sure what to say, but he figured that he would start with the major details, and give updates. The country needed to know what was happening.
The studio manager gave him a thumbs up, and he knew he was on air, so he began to speak, "Hello England. As you may have heard, there has been an attack on the Ministry of Magic. The group of protesters have decided to end their non-violence, as earlier today they struck the building, bringing down the security wards. The fourth floor of the east wing is currently on fire, and an evacuation procedure is in motion. The death toll is currently at fifteen, with at least fifty or so injured civilians. At this time, we implore you to take cover, regardless of how far you might be from the site. This channel will be broadcasting through this entire ordeal, and I personally will fill you in with updates as they come in. Stay safe, England, and we will get through this together."
He turned off the microphone momentarily, as he looked over the list of confirmed casualties, and the newest updates that had come in. Lee took a deep breath; it was going to be a long battle, and he knew there would be many more deaths. He just hoped that it wouldn't be anyone he knew, as selfish as that was. He just couldn't afford to lose any one else.
There was smoke everywhere, and Percy had to cast several charms over himself to simply be able to move through it and not suffocate. He had tried to diminish the fire, but all it seemed to do was push it back slightly, before it came back will full reverence.
It was like there was no winning against any of it, and that was absolutely terrifying. There were bodies passed out on the ground, either dead or unconscious, and no matter how many he tried to transport out of the building, it seemed as if five more appeared.
He knew he wouldn't be able to save all of them, and that terrified him. Despite his best attempts, there would be people who died here today, simply because there were too many of the rogue protesters and too little of their side.
It felt like he was back in school, where no matter how hard he tried, he never met any of his goals.
And Percy Weasley always pushed himself to the extreme when it came to trying to meet said goals. He made enemies and he chose sides, and somehow it always seemed to backfire on him. His oldest brother had been Head Boy and had been the shining light of inspiration in their household, whereas Charlie had always been so cool, being the Quidditch Captain and working with dragons. But Percy had never let himself play the sport. It wouldn't get him anywhere in life; hard work and dedication would.
He just wanted to feel good enough.
And now, three years after the last one, it felt as if another war was breaking out, simply because there was a power hungry monster demanding it.
Because power was corrosive. You get a little taste of it, and suddenly you couldn't stop dreaming of how to get more and more. And then you become the villain who keeps running others' lives with your own greed.
He would know; he felt the pull himself several times. He had nearly betrayed his entire family for the mere promise of having more power and control.
But he never used force or manipulation to meet his goals. No, he used intelligence and fought for what he wanted, unlike the coward who was in charge of all of this. The master of deception who was singlehandedly bringing down the very institution meant to protect all of them.
As he got a young girl who was clinging to her little brother out of the building with one of the miniature portkeys he had made, he felt the air being sucked out of his lungs. He gasped for air, struggling to breathe, as he fell to the ground. He looked up to see a man whose hood had been lowered, and felt himself pleading with Marcus Flint for mercy. But the words didn't escape his throat. He felt his eyes close as his lungs collapsed in his throat. And then there was darkness.
Marcus laughed to himself. Removing the breathing charm that Weasley had been using to get through the fire had basically been child's play. And there was something oddly satisfying about watching the air leave the ginger who had terrorized Slytherin, first as a prefect, and then as Head Boy.
Percy Weasley had been a menace, always unfairly taking points of his house. The Gryffindor had definitely been a stickler for the rules, as he treated the other three houses equally, but his eyes had held a certain disdain for the house of snake.
Marcus had honestly wanted to do that for years. Even though he had been able to avoid Azkaban with simply having to complete a few months of house arrest, it didn't mean he didn't enjoy being a Death Eater. Yes, blood purity had definitely been important to him, which was one of the reasons Marcus had jumped on the chance to bring back the old ways. But it hadn't been the most enjoyable part; that title went to being able to torture and kill all those who had opposed him. He loved the surge of power that flowed through him when he watched others on the ground crying out in pain, begging for mercy. Begging for him to kill them and put them out of their misery. He would try combinations of spells to figure out what they resulted in, and would even use his own curses when he so desired it.
It was safe to say that once the war ended, he hadn't been very happy. But Marcus played the role of poor Slytherin boy very well, fooling the Wizengamot well enough to not convict him, especially because he had long since built up a tolerance to Veritasium. He had played the game better than Malfoy, Nott, and the rest of the junior Death Eaters who actually didn't want a part in it, and his sentence had been far lighter than what he probably deserved.
Not that he was complaining about it; to be honest, he still was annoyed he even got the house arrest at all.
He used wandless magic to increase the heat of the flame in the hallway, knowing it would spread, as he turned around to leave the floor behind. There was still plenty of people he would enjoy torturing before the battle was over, and Marcus Flint planned on enjoying every last moment of it.
But for now, Marcus had a particular mudblood he wanted to go find. He would show Hermione Granger her place, and he planned on thoroughly using her before he was ready to kill her off.
He smiled to himself, a sinister air about him, as he walked straight for where the unsuspecting girl was helping injured wizards and witches. Something told him that she would be different from all the other witches. He planned on completely and utterly enjoying as he ruined her and brought death upon the Gryffindor.