The Leader

Chapter 62

The Ministry of Magic was in a complete uproar, so much so that interviews had been cancelled, everyone not an Ministry official had been ushered from the building. Anyone of importance was currently in the bowls of the Ministry of magic, where they were staring at the gruesome sight of Gilderoy Lockhart made. Everyone was dramatically holding their hands to their mouths, looking ready to sick up the entire contents of their breakfasts.

"Cornelius what on…dear Merlin!" Madam Bones' monocle fell from her eye as she got her first glimpse of Lockhart. To the entire world she looked beyond horrified at what she was seeing, just like everyone else. Inside though, why she felt nothing but satisfaction and perhaps a little apprehension that Harry's group was capable of such violence. However, she knew just what Lockhart had done to his own flesh and blood. "Is that…Lockhart?" she murmured, in feigned ignorance, as she approached the table where the body was.

"It is," Proudfoot stated grimly, staring at the body in disgust. It was grotesque really, his heart was missing, looked as though it had been yanked out judging by the wound.

"This…looks well, entirely done by hand," Madam Bones confessed, blinking at the sight. She had a job to do today, retrieve the birth certificate for Lockhart's daughter, expose her to the world, while Harry dealt with the Goblin side of things. He wanted to make sure that Lockhart's vast wealth went to its rightful place, and not end up in the hands of the Ministry of magic.

"It was," Nightingale, a relatively new Auror stepped forward, "The Muggles have a saying for this…practice,"

"Wait, what? You think Muggles did this?" the cries of alarm circled the room immediately upon his revelation.

"There is no magic upon the body, and yes, Muggles did do this, to witches back in the day, it's called the Bloody Eagle." Nightingale, "We were quite lucky we actually managed to get to the body first. Otherwise we would know nothing about it."

"Oh, no," Cornelius said pale and shaken, his brow gathering sweat as he began to wonder at the ramifications of such a thing beginning to happen. "Is…could it have been a wizard?" almost hoping that it was, it would be much easier to handle.

"Our experts have looked, there is no magic performed on the body and there is no residue, seen or felt otherwise," and it was impossible to remove all traces of magic, or so they believed, thus they didn't think for a second further on the prospect of it being a wizard. "This was done by a Muggle," Nightingale insisted, he might be a relatively new Auror but he knew this stuff, that much was known by the Heads of the Departments and the Minister. He was quite frankly moving up the ranks faster than any other Auror before him. He was smart, knowledgeable, dedicated to his job, and never had a sick day in the time he'd begun working.

"We must have missed one while obliviating everyone during one of You-Know-Who's attacks," Fudge whispered in horror, how were they supposed to stop a Muggle when there was no discernible way to trace them? they didn't have magic, they were untraceable. Merlin help them, they might have another witch hunt on the rise. They'd never had to worry about one in a long time, America was prone to them…despite their very harsh rules and regulations back in the day.

"This can't be the work of just one surely!" Proudfoot stuttered, looking green around the gills, he was the senior Auror here at the moment. Despite the situation, many couldn't help but feel that Nightingale was being more professional and more help than the senior Auror before them. He was definitely going to be passed over for promotion.

"Given the right tools, it is entirely possible," Nightingale said calmly, "He might have just accidently pissed off the wrong person…only takes a second to knock someone out." Moving forward, he moved Lockhart's head to see the back of it, "Hmm, nothing there, but his face has sustained some considerable damage perhaps it was a frontal assault. According to Lockhart's O.W.L results he isn't the best of wizards. He failed most of his exams."

"And failed all his N.E.W.T's," Madam Bones joined in, of course, after he rose to fame nobody seemed to remember such a thing, or chose to ignore it. She had read one of his books, but it became blatantly clear it was fiction, not an actual representation of his so called 'magical feats' she had avoided any of his books after that occurrence. Well, as much as she could, since she'd had to regretfully buy her niece Lockhart's entire works thanks to Dumbledore hiring the fraud.

"Failed or not, it doesn't seem likely that some random Muggle could get the drop on him," Proudfoot, 'Not the drop on a wizard' went unsaid, but they certainly understood.

"Likely or not, it happened, as the evidence tells us," Bones said curtly, pursing her lips at his denial. Not good Auror work that, denying what magic, experience and others were telling him. Although he was quite correct, in this case a Muggle hadn't done it, no pissed of vampires and werewolves had. Everything, every single little thing pointed out towards a Muggle though, there was nothing to suggest anything untoward. To say muggles hadn't gotten the better of magical's is being idiotic though, they had done and will continue to do so from time to time.

"We need to find this Muggle and deal with them immediately!" Fudge cut through the small argument.

"That isn't going to be easy," Nightingale frowned, "Maybe we should let the Muggles take over this case, they'll find things we cannot. They have their own ways of finding their own." Proudfoot wasn't going to let this go, they had to make the body disappear before he figured it out. If he could figure it out.

"No," Fudge declared immediately, rejecting the suggestion.

Nightingale merely nodded respectfully, adhering to Fudge's rule, respecting his decision. It was a stupid decision, but he wasn't about to say that. Not when he'd spent the last few years working his way up in the Ministry, making sure he was well respected and liked by his superiors. There was only one thing he hated about this undercover job, the fact he never got to see his brethren. Although more and more of them were suddenly applying for jobs in the Ministry, and that's how he knew…he knew that soon the takeover would be complete. It explained the sudden disappearance of many wizards and witches that were of no consequence within the Ministry…certainly nothing Voldemort would be interested in.

It definitely buoyed his spirits and nowadays if anything annoyed him he'd just think 'Soon. Soon. Soon' which was all too true. It had been years in the making, although in all honestly, when he'd been approached for the job, he had been enthusiastic. He wasn't sure if he would have done it if he knew it would be years in the making. He'd only seen everyone twice in years and it sucked. Not as much as sucking up to Fudge and his superiors though.

"This does not get out to the press," Fudge retorted sharply, he could not let the press publish such findings. It would cause even more chaos than was happening right now. "We keep this locked down tightly, with only two people investigating it, is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," everyone replied as one, worry barely concealed within their tones. Nobody wanted to be the one investigating that case, not when they knew Fudge would be on their asses the entire time demanding results.

"Nightingale and Shacklebolt will be in charge," Fudge stated.

"Um, sir, Shacklebolt is still missing…" Proudfoot replied warily, not wishing Fudge's ire upon himself.

Fudge scowled darkly, "Fine, Pershing then,"

Nightingale bit his tongue, this was good, if it were any other case he would have protested vehemently. Pershing was a trainee, he hadn't even completed his training yet. Which meant any mistakes made 'accidentally' during the investigation could be pushed upon his shoulders. He was seen as a 'stickler for the rules' so he definitely wouldn't be blamed. He'd built himself up quite a reputation, and it worked well for him.

"I could help Auror Nightingale," Proudfoot said tentatively, "Pershing is still a trainee, this investigation needs going over with a fine toothed comb."

"You need to be looking for Shacklebolt and Tonks," Bones added to the conversation, "Two of our own are missing, we cannot push that towards a trainee who would be basically working on his own. At least with Nightingale he will have a competent Auror around to keep him in line."

"Madam Bones is quite correct, find them Proudfoot!" they were down Aurors and the Auror department wasn't exactly crawling with prospective Aurors these days. Even less managing to pass the bar high enough for their expectations to become full out Aurors. In fact, it was at an all-time low and Fudge was at a loss as to why that was.

"Yes, Sir," Proudfoot winced at Fudge's demands, they'd been searching high and low for the Aurors, but they were nowhere to be found. One minute they were at the Ministry of magic, where they were last seen…and bam, gone, not a trace had been found since then.

"What are you still doing here?" Fudge barked, his mood like an angry cloud hovering over him, his face alternating between red in anger and pale in fear as his thoughts kept ping ponging back and forth. "As for you," he turned to Nightingale, "Find out what happened to Lockhart, the press will want answers…tell them he died but the investigation is ongoing, nothing further."

"I'll get on that immediately, Minister," Nightingale said smoothly, unlike Proudfoot he didn't wince or flinch over the harsh tone.

"He's the folder of my findings," the young medical examiner – who had trained in both Muggle and Wizardly pathology – said, handing over the very thin file, which was clearly lacking in the information department. The two were vastly different, wizards did not need to cut into the bodies of the deceased, since magic did it for them. Many wizards felt that medical examining was 'taboo' and didn't like training for such a job, except a select few.

"Thanks Abigail," Nightingale said, giving a small appreciative smile, the Half-Blood witch was someone he actually tolerated…alright more than just tolerated…he liked her. He didn't get to spend much time with her though, but maybe someday soon…that might change. He wouldn't need to focus on his job so much, on working around the clock on cases in order to climb the ladder. The fact he was a 'pureblood' on paper anyway, helped ease the way. The Ministry was full of bigotry, prejudice and assholes who believed they were better than everyone else. He hated it.

Abigail blushed a little, ducking her head, unseen by everyone else, "You're welcome," she answered, her back turned to them all, until her red cheeks had abated. It helped that it was rather cold down here with all the cooling and freezing charms they had to keep the cadavers in an appropriate state.

"I better get to work," Nightingale said, when it became obvious nobody was going to move from where their gazes were now fixed morbidly upon the sight of Lockhart. His wig was missing, his hair blooded and disgusting, his face almost unrecognizable, he had hardly any clothes on and quite frankly even Nightingale didn't want to look too closely at his chest and back. Lockhart had died in excruciating agony, he wondered if Jack had done this, it was obviously a werewolf, this type of injury and the anger and strength behind it…and the lack of magic used, yes, he'd say for certain it was probably a werewolf. Jack didn't have that sort of anger behind him enough to do that though, at least he didn't think so…anyone could be pushed to the brink. "Excuse me," he said with quiet respect, before vacating the room.

It took Abigail clearing her throat to get them all coming back to themselves and hastily realizing they couldn't spend the day just staring. They all had work to do, and a lot of it, which required a lot of overtime, which played havoc with their personal lives but there was nothing to be done about it.

"Should we pick someone we've already interviewed or call all the applicants back for a second conference?" Bones stalked quickly, deftly keeping up with Cornelius Fudge who despite his small stature – compared to Madam Bones – was able to walk quite swiftly.

Glancing at his watch, "We don't have the time to delay anymore, we need to get the Ministry back up and running to full capacity." Fudge's shoulders were tight and tense coiled like a spring, "If we don't get people in now, we might not for another week and we have too much to do to waste interviewing more candidates, if they aren't suitable they can be fired and replaced once we aren't so burdened down." they couldn't be wrong when hiring every open position available, perhaps just a few unsuitable and it was as he said, easy to fire them while they're on their probationary period. He didn't understand where they'd gone, why they'd left. There was no sign of a struggle, they just resigned, and hadn't been seen since.

"They chose a terrible time to leave," Amelia commented, it had left them in the lurch. "Part of me doesn't blame them, the war is beginning to get more dangerous. Yet out of everyone, they aren't the ones in the most danger, unless they've been approached for that very reason and it's scared them enough for them to run." Amelia planted that thought in his head as she opened the lift doors and closed them once they were situated and pressed the level they wished to get off at. She had to go down to the record department and speak to the record keeper and search for Edith Lockhart's birth certificate, if it could be found.

Cornelius closed his eyes, he hadn't thought of that, it would explain their sudden resignation and disappearance. If he got in touch with MACUSA he would bet he'd find their wand permit and new addresses for them. Unless, they had well and truly gone into hiding and weren't registering with MACUSA or any other magical government. Which was against the law if they were going to be using magic, but when you're in hiding you don't exactly think about adhering to the letter of the law.

"Cornelius, it's your stop," Amelia informed the Minister, watching his eyes snap open, before flustering badly, as he opened the lift door and vacated it. "I will see you in half an hour to go over the interviewed candidates," or what they had managed to get through. Hopefully it wouldn't have put a dent in Harry's plans and those he wanted to be set up successfully managed to do so.

Cornelius only nodded before departing, Amelia didn't wait until she could no longer see him, she just closed the door and it zoomed on down to her floor.

"My Lord, I have news…"

"Speak," hissed the voice of the Dark Lord from where he sat on his throne, looking a tad bit satisfied, red eyes gleaming triumphantly. The mark connecting him to Draco Malfoy had finally faded. The boy was dead, and no doubt the mother, Narcissa Malfoy was grieving for her son and husband. She deserved no less, they had abandoned the cause, and he did not tolerate traitors. He had people out scouring the country for her, she too would pay for her part in the treason against him.

"Gilderoy Lockhart was found around the corner from the Ministry of magic earlier this morning," the spy informed him, "They suspect it was Muggles who performed the torture upon the deceased Author. They are all in a state of panic, Fudge has been hiring those who they managed to interview before the news reached them." before the Ministry had gone on lockdown.

"How reliable is that information?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes suspiciously, he knew it hadn't been him, and he doubted the light side would be idiotic enough to torture and leave someone behind for the Ministry workers to find.

"Very reliable, they've had people checking the cadaver for any signs of magic and there's nothing, not even a blip," the spy told him, still kneeling a respective – and terrifying – distance from him out of self-preservation. The Dark Lord had been very angry as of late, and they were paying the price for his temper.

Voldemort hissed out in fury, the thought of Muggles being able to get the better of a wizard was extremely insulting. "Pathetic idiot he deserved it," anyone who let a wretched Muggle get the better of him definitely deserved nothing more. Still, he alone knew just how dangerous Muggles could be, he felt a twinge of concern, but he forced it way down, they were wizards, they didn't need to worry about one pathetic Muggle. No doubt if he tried again on another wizard he or she would find themselves killed before they could do any damage.

"Anything more?" he demanded when his spy remained stoically silent.

"The Aurors are still hunting for Tonks and Shacklebolt, from what we've observed, it seems the Order members are looking for the two as well."

If Voldemort had eyebrows they would have arched in cautious curiosity, idly wondering what exactly had happened to them. Had Dumbledore made them go under a deep cover? Pretend to be missing for some reason? Something to do with the war? It was unlikely if they were looking for the Aurors too. Considering his side had nothing to do with it…at least he didn't think so. Perhaps he should call a full meeting, bring everyone together and find out if they had anything to do with their disappearance. He would be the first to reluctantly admit that he didn't have complete control over all his Death Eaters, and less so now due to the fact many of them were newer recruits. He had lost a great many of his inner circle, which was still a sore point for him. Some were still alive, he could feel them, but he couldn't find them, and they were not ones that would abandon his cause, of that he was sure. It was the only reason he hadn't ended their lives.

People were going missing left right and centre, both light and dark wizards and witches. Now Muggles were apparently getting the better of wizards and killing them? He had to find out what was going on and very soon. What if this exposure went deeper? What if the Muggles had found ways to incapacitate wizards completely?

Something was seriously wrong with this picture. Without more information all he was getting was pieces of a very difficult puzzle. Which just confused him and he did not like being confused thus anger quite easily and quickly set in. Snarling in annoyance, "Go," he couldn't very well get information if he cursed the idiot at his feet. If he did, he wouldn't be able to return to the Ministry without raising red flags.

It was time to set up a raid, Muggles were perfect outlets for his anger.

"…after that we can inform Gringotts to have the estate transferred…" Fudge paused when Amelia Bones sauntered into his office.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening," Amelia told him, her countenance grim.

"How do you mean?" Fudge asked indignantly, he had the power to take funds from anywhere he pleased, although it only worked if there was nobody to kick up a fuss over the estate just drying up. He didn't dare take funds from those who still had family on the outside. He'd been very tempted to take the Black estate, but regretfully the Malfoy's too powerful for him to get away with such things.

"Cornelius, Lockhart has an heir," Amelia explained, taking a seat, "She will be able to claim the total sum of his estate."

"Unless we can prove she isn't his daughter," Fudge pointed out, "He's a celebrity, how many witches insisted he was the father? I can point out a dozen paternity tests to prove it."

"To do that we would need to find her," Amelia sighed, handing over the birth certificate, "Her mother is in St. Mungo's, she will never recover."

"St. Mungo's?" Fudge grumbled, this wasn't news he wanted to hear, they needed all the funding they could get to end this war once and for all. The coffers were all but empty, and they were having trouble replacing it, the bribes he took were the only things sustaining the departments right now. Not that he could tell anyone that information.

"Janus Thickey Ward," for irreparable spell damage, not the most remembered occupant, no that went to Alice and Frank Longbottom.

"So where is the girl?" Fudge questioned, if he could get her as ward of the Ministry and adopt her as his own, he'd be able to access the funds – not all unfortunately – at least not until the girl turned seventeen.

"No idea," Amelia confessed, "We have no idea if she was with her father or if she has relatives on her mothers side…I'd need to look into her." Which wasn't something she had the time for.

"Do it," Fudge stated immediately, sighing as yet another missive appeared on his desk, he froze when he caught sight of the name and where it came from. Edith Lockhart, and it was from Gringotts. Heart sinking, he flipped it open, apparently they'd done a blood test that proved Edith Lockhart was indeed Gilderoy Lockhart's daughter. Not only that, but Lockhart had a will that gave full custody of his daughter to Lord Thorn – Lord Darnell Raven Thorn – a wizard with a lot of money to burn, and oddly enough, someone Dumbledore had been looking into. "It seems it doesn't matter," slumping back dejectedly, handing over the file to Bones who looked at him cautiously.

"At least the little girl isn't lost," Amelia said, relieved and not against displaying it. She was just seven years old, and if she hadn't known the girl was safe she would have been beyond worried about her. She'd raised her niece, she had a very big soft spot when it came to children even if she seemed uncaring most of the time. It was due to the fact she had to work ten times harder than the wizards to prove herself. She hadn't gotten here where she was by being overly emotional, no she got here through pure determination and power.

Fudge just rolled his eyes in irritation, so much for this being his out so to speak. It was too bad he couldn't set up a party for the purpose of donations. With the war…nobody was liable to come, the Ministry everyone knew, wasn't all that secure. Plus, having so many people in a position of power in a single building was just asking for trouble. It would be like begging You-Know-Who to come and wreak havoc. "Has there been any sightings of Harry Potter lately?" if what Dumbledore had been implying was true…they needed the vampire to end the war. Which would need done before he had to reveal to the council of magic, the Lords and wizengamot that there was no money left.

"Harry Potter?" Amelia questioned blankly, staring at Fudge as if confused by his sudden change in topic.

"Yes," Fudge sighed in exasperation.

"Not since the meeting and I suppose the duel with Voldemort," Amelia stated, unafraid of saying his name. Also it gave her a great deal of pleasure to see everyone flinching. It was like cursing someone without lifting her wand, extremely amusing.

"Don't say his name," Hissed Fudge sounding like a deranged cat. After a moments silent he asked a question he had wanted to ask someone for a while, "Do you believe he is destined to end the war?"

Amelia scoffed, unable to help herself, "Merlin no, everyone has been thinking that since the miracle seventeen years ago. Why, I do not know, it's not as if a child could possibly stop Voldemort. They were thinking it even after his disappearance, its wrong to put that sort of pressure on a young teenager."

"He's not a teenager anymore, he's a vampire," Fudge couldn't help but deride.

Amelia pursed her lips, this was why she couldn't tolerate the Ministry the way it was anymore. The prejudice and haughty attitudes of those surrounding her. Merlin, help her, she was surrounded by idiots who thought they were so smart and better than everyone else. The laws against 'creatures' were becoming more and more restrictive. It was more like a goddamned noose around their necks, and nobody deserved that. How they couldn't see what it was doing to the magical world she didn't know. The tighter the nose became, the more they acted up, acted out, the more people were bitten or turned. Although since Harry had taken control of the underworld, as they so fondly called it, the deaths had dwindled down to almost nothing.

It was a good thing, unfortunately the idiots in the Ministry thought it was their hard work that ensured it. Which in turn tightened the reigns even further, and if not for Harry she knew they would have started something wizards most definitely wouldn't have won. She seemed to be the only one who could see where all this was going, and it concerned her immensely. Until after some digging, she had been contacted by Harry, who was very sophisticated and sharp, didn't miss a beat, she rather enjoyed the witty repartee they'd built up when they met for dinner. It had been a few months since they'd met regretfully, but things were on the fast track now.

She never thought she'd see the day where she was a traitor, but unfortunately, to make change…one has to go to drastic means to accomplish that goal.

"What about this Thorn character? Have you ever met him?" Fudge asked, not paying her any full attention as he worked as well as spoke.

"I've heard rumours about his wealth and secrecy, but no, I've never met him," Bones mused thoughtfully, Harry was certainly bringing a lot of attention to himself lately, but considering they were in the endgame now it was hardly surprising.

"Nobody seems to have," Fudge groused, as he signed off on yet more paperwork, this was the worst part of being Minister of Magic. The constant influx of paperwork, it was never ending, and he hardly got home because of it. This war was a very inconvenient thing, it always troublesome being a war Minister, but he refused to go out like Crouch Senior did, although the wizard hadn't been the Minister, he'd been so close to doing so. In fact, everyone had already been hailing him as Minister until his son had been branded a Death Eater. After that he had faded into obscurity, it couldn't have been easy though, losing your son and wife. He'd become a haunted spectator within the Ministry, barely spoke, hardly ate, did his job and was always the last one home.

"Why not invite him to a meeting?" Amelia couldn't resist suggesting. "You are the Minister for magic, if anyone could entice the wizard from the shadows its you." Stroking his ego, which was all to easy to do, Fudge thought very highly of himself and was used to everyone pandering to him.

"This is true," Fudge's eyes lit up, if he could convince the wizard to make a donation to the ministry, perhaps entice him with his name in one of the departments…that sort of thing was weakness to wizards. They wanted to leave a legacy, their names were the most important thing in the world. It's what led to them all having children, whether they wanted them or not. He himself hadn't bothered with a wife or kids. He had no time or desire for either, power was his sole desire. Plus, his older brother had an heir, they had nothing to worry about, he was the 'cool' uncle. He saw his nephew four or five times a year, it was more than enough.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have my own work to tend to," Amelia stood, with purpose, barely giving Fudge another second before she got herself out of there.

"Do you do that often?" Severus asked, surprise prominently displayed on his features. Harry was about to go out and keep an eye on a group that he felt were 'being questionable' that and a body had been found in the vicinity with distinctive bite marks heralding to the world that it had been a vampire. Harry's reach was vast, it still constantly surprised him.

"Not often, no," Harry answered, "Only when I feel its needed."

"You're not going there to hide," Severus realized, "You want to be seen." He wanted them to know he was keeping an eye on them.

Harry smirked, unsurprised by Severus' realizations, they were mates after all, and the fates wouldn't burden him with a mate who couldn't keep up with his wicked fast mind. If they had, Harry wasn't sure what he would have done…stuck to his goals and saw them out. Afterwards though…it would have been boring.

"Why have anyone trailing after them when you have the potential to have a massive CCTV operation via the crystals that were created?" Severus asked, staring at Harry for a moment before an owl caught his attention. It was over a mile away, incoming quite fast, the owl was familiar but he couldn't say who it actually was.

"I had contemplated the idea, but in the end I nixed it, nothing beats our senses, a screen isn't capable of giving us everything we need." Harry informed him, grabbing his leather biker jacket, and walking towards the main warehouse. Intending on using his bike again, he'd gone too long without riding his motorbike. "You coming?" He'd learned from Rick that Severus had enjoyed his ride.

Severus didn't hesitate for a second, "Yes," both of them made their way down, easily finding their bikes.

"Then come on, it will be a long time before I can get back on one," Harry revealed, as he straddled his bike, "We're in the endgame now."

Severus threw him a look, he might be impassive but Harry was looking forward to this.

"And the Owl?" he asked as he too straddled the bike he'd used last time, hearing a small click as the wall gave way, granting them a free exit from below.

"Rick will get it," Harry declared revving up his bike, before blasting outside, Severus gleefully – not that it showed – followed him.

Freedom had never felt so good.

I rather enjoyed this chapter! finally got to write in more than just one POV (three! Ministry, Voldemort and Harry) but a lot more of the Ministry will be showing on the lead up to the 'final battle' as everyone moves into position, I do hope I'm showing enough of the pieces moving...will it be Voldemort who first discovers someone else is weaselling their way into win the war or Dumbledore? Perhaps someone neutral? Will the Order survive the changeover? Read and Review please!