Harry felt… bored.

Or maybe antsy was a better word.

It had been over a week since the raid at Malfoy Manor, and he couldn't help but feel like there was something they should be doing.

He idly tapped his fingers on the large wooden table that he and Hermione had commandeered in an abandoned classroom. Strewn across it were stacks of notes and reports that documented their various plans.

Augusta, Fudge, Amelia, and Dumbledore all had multiple initiatives being put forth through proxies in the Wizengamot. Werewolf rights and support initiatives, vampire rights reform, more funding for the DMLE and more training programs for the Aurors. Anything that they could think of to weaken Voldemort's support base and prepare without announcing the Dark Lord's return. They had Order members, Fudge's allies in the ministry, and Augusta's social connections lobbying for support. For Harry and Hermione, it was a whole lot of very boring reading even with Occlumency to help.

Hermione sighed and leaned back in her chair across from him.

"I don't like the Azkaban situation. It's a Gordian Knot that we don't have a blade strong enough to cut yet."

"I don't know if I even want to destroy the hungry Dark at its core. Even if beings like Voldemort and I only show up once or twice a century, that's still a lot of disembodied souls floating around after a few thousand, or a few million years. What if the mundane people nuke everyone or the Earth gets destroyed by an asteroid or something? Would any immortals suddenly just get stuck in empty purgatory for the rest of time?"

"Plus, even if we wanted to destroy it, I don't think we can yet. Dementors aren't even really part of it, more like doorways into it. Just Avatars of the hungry Dark. Destroying them does nothing in the long run."

"If we could just figure out how to trap them all somewhere so they aren't just wandering around consuming random people. Preferably somewhere far away."

Hermione tapped one of the reports with her finger. "Well, the ministry clearly hasn't managed it."

Harry had been irritated to find out that the ministry didn't just torture its criminals for shits and giggles. They allowed the Dementors to feed on the prisoners because it was preferable to the alternative, namely the Dementors just roaming around eating whoever they wanted. The ministry had agreed to let them feed on criminals in order to keep them satiated and contained.

The Dementors were not for Azkaban's benefit. Azkaban was for theirs.

Which was… inconvenient. For multiple reasons.

Harry ground his teeth. He had known that this would be a problem two years ago. He had even told Albus so.

Harry leaned his chair back on two legs and stared at the ceiling.

"I just know that I'm going to regret not going to Azkaban right now and killing all the Death Eaters inside."

"I don't think you'll regret it as much as you would if you did. Killing helpless, if not innocent, people would change you, I think. And at the end of the day, the only person that you're required to live with is yourself."

"And you. I'm not allowed to leave, remember?"

"I was just-"

"I know, don't worry. I promise that I'll never want to. You're stuck with me, remember?"

Hermione sighed and walked around the table, "I think that is normally my line, actually."

She bent over to kiss him softly before running her hands through his hair in a soothing motion.

"We'll figure something out. I know that this proposal isn't perfect, but it will move us in the right direction."

The current plan was an initiative to begin research and implementation of a ward scheme that could contain the Dementors. Once it was complete, they would evacuate the prisoners and lock down the island before the Dementors could escape.

Harry didn't know what the hungry Dark would do in response, but he had to do something.

He hummed appreciably and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as Hermione's fingers worked through his perpetually messy hair.

"Besides the Dementors, there's also Voldemort. His next move has to be Azkaban. He's running low on forces already. Recruitment with the werewolves is slow, and he hasn't officially announced that he's back, so he's limited in his options. Moody is watching the ministry like a hawk, and the Order is watching the prophecy. There aren't very many other moves that he can make before he frees the bulk of his lieutenants."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "There must be some way to set a trap for him. If we get that ward scheme approved, maybe we can plan to engage it as soon as we get any word that he's attacking?"

"That might work, but as soon as it's ready we're going to start emptying the prison, so it's a limited window."

"You're right," She sighed, kissing his forehead and sitting back down in front of her stack of paperwork. "Our options are pretty limited, even if we know where he's going. We can't keep one of us there twenty-four-seven, and by the time the Auror's realize something is wrong it will probably be too late."

"Ugh. Maybe I could just execute his worst followers?"

"Like I said, you could do that. Why don't you?"

"Because it feels wrong."

"Exactly. Right and wrong aren't absolute, Harry. You know that better than most. Like my mum said last year, we just have to do our best and do what feels right. Even if we know that they'll hurt people, if or when they escape, killing them now still feels wrong."

She reached over and squeezed his hand.

"I've got your back, whatever you decide. You did the same for me with Fudge. I know that I've criticized your morals in the past, but that was before we had Voldemort trying to end the world. You're a better person than you give yourself credit for, Harry."

Harry smiled and ran his fingers lightly over the smooth skin of the back of her hand.

"Thank you. You're right, of course. As always."

She rolled her eyes but smiled, nonetheless.

"You'd think that you would have figured that out by now."

Harry chuckled and was about to return to his werewolf legislation summary when another thought occurred to him.

"Wasn't Hagrid supposed to be back already?"

"No, no I heard you the first time, Albus. But why is he dragging his brother through the mountains against his will?"

"Harry, I need a favor."

He looked up at Luna with a confused expression. She never asked for favors.

"Of course, Angel. What's up?"

"Will you please go find my favorite radish for me? I left it in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Do I even want to know?"

Luna just hummed while staring at him with a curiously blank expression.

Harry chuckled and stood up, Hermione automatically following suit.

"Alone, please."

Harry and Hermione both turned back to stare at the unpredictable blonde.

"Okay then… I guess I'll see you later, Death Walker."

Harry just nodded and started walking out of the hall. Luna was up to something or knew something. He would find out soon enough, he supposed.

He was about to enter the classroom when he heard crying from just beside the door.

On one of the low benches in the hallway, a first-year student was clutching their hand while tears dropped down their cheeks.

That couldn't be a coincidence.

What game was Luna playing?

Harry stopped and knelt down. He saw a ruby droplet running down the child's wrist.

"Hello. I'm Harry Potter, I can help. What happened?"

The boy looked up at him with a blend of fear and awe and confusion. Harry took the opportunity to slip carefully into his mind.

Pain, and helpless terror. A wide, sadistic smile. Crimson blood dripping onto parchment covered in words written in-

Harry's blood boiled as he healed the child. He stood abruptly and the boy stopped sniffling in surprise.

"I'll take care of it, I promise. She'll never be able to hurt you or anyone else again. Return to your common room, please. Tell no one that you saw me here."

The boy nodded reluctantly and scurried away.

Harry accidentally ripped the door to the DADA classroom off its hinges. He repaired it behind him as he strode towards Umbridge's office.

He broke the lock on her office door with ease.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING-"

Harry cut her off as he drowned her in his power and invaded her twisted mind.

She had no excuse for her torture of children, even to herself. She knew that it was counterproductive to her and Fudge's supposed goals. She just wanted the children to suffer for the perceived slights to her authority. She enjoyed it. She reveled in it.

Harry wanted to end her.

Hermione probably would have.

Harry realized why his policy may not always be a good thing.

Making up his mind, he strode to the fireplace and threw in a pinch of floo powder.

"Cornelius. Get your ass over here, now."

There was a brief pause before Fudge popped from the fireplace.

"Harry! To what do I owe-"

"Your undersecretary has been torturing children for fun. Lock her in Azkaban and throw away the key. I don't care how you do it."

Fudge looked shocked before turning to Umbridge. "Delores! How could you? I thought you… well, never mind. I'll talk to Amelia and let her know about the situation."

"Excellent. Can I trust you not to fuck up this badly again?"

"Of course! I didn't know-"

"Good. Have Amelia find me an Auror or someone else competent to teach Defense, preferably someone who isn't an evil sadist. Now leave. And take her with you."

Fudge nodded and stunned Umbridge. Harry glared at the poisonous toad's back as her unconscious body was levitated through the floo.

Harry sighed. The curse had struck early this year. He felt Hermione stressing over the sudden hostility in his soul, and he sent her a feeling of apology and calm. He wasn't looking forward to her reaction.

As was tradition by this point, Harry was on guard during the Halloween feast. Nothing bad had happened so far, but he wasn't optimistic. Something bad had happened to him every year on Halloween since coming to Hogwarts; he wasn't expecting anything to change this year.

Hermione was similarly on edge, but nothing seemed to go wrong even after he gave her a goodnight kiss and headed to bed.

Then, as was tradition, Dumbledore's magic brushed against his.

Harry. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Azkaban has been attacked. They're already gone.

Called it.

Their war council, as it were, gathered in Dumbledore's office. Harry skimmed the list of escaped convicts.

Bellatrix Lestrange

Antonin Dolohov

Augustus Rookwood

Rabastan Lestrange

Rodolphus Lestrange.

Lucius Malfoy

Narcissa Malfoy

Thorfinn Rowle

The list went on.

"We should go public with Voldemort's return now," Amelia said. "Anything less will weaken our position further."

The others nodded and hummed in general agreement.

"We will point to our actions up until this point as preemptive measures to strengthen the ministry in response to the threat. We can put a positive spin on the raid at Malfoy Manor and even the battle at Hangleton, holding them up as proof that the Dark Lord is not invincible." Hermione was on a roll. "We can reassure the public that we will not slack in our duty to fight this enemy."

Harry picked up the thread. "We have Rita publish specific quotes and interview questions. Point to our attempts at Azkaban reform to shift blame for the breakout off of us. Convince the public that we foresaw this but were unable to act due to the Death Eaters hiding within the Wizengamot."

There was a moment of silence while everyone considered the upcoming turmoil.

"Voldemort is going to have his hands full with insane and bloodthirsty followers. They will either give themselves away or he'll be forced to lie low for a while."

"Either way, we keep our eyes open. Also, it's open season on any Death Eaters we can get enough evidence to take down."

"I guess we have a press release bright and early."

"...and, while we understand that the revelation is concerning, we plead everyone to remain calm. We have weathered this threat once; we can do so again." Amelia finished strongly.

The crowd in the ministry atrium murmured nervously. Rita had already been given the details and the morning run of the Daily Prophet would be going out right now with their preferred take on the press release. The rest of the reporters in the crowd were just for show, and to add authenticity to the photos and the wizarding wireless broadcast.

Albus stood gravely on the stage beside Fudge and Amelia. Harry and Hermione waited for their queue, invisible in the rafters.

One of the reporters inadvertently jumped ahead of the plan. "What about the Boy-Who-Lived? Does Lord Potter support the administration's position in this?"

Harry groaned. Apparently, the Lord Potter thing was going to stick. Horrifying.

But he had a role to play.

He and Hermione dropped their invisibility and flew down to the podium in a dramatic display of blue and green power.

Propaganda time…

"To answer your question, yes. I have been working closely with the headmaster, the Minister, and the DMLE to combat the threat that Voldemort poses to our nation's security and sovereignty. Make no mistake; despite his claims to the contrary, the Dark Lord is a terrorist who wants power at the expense of anyone and everyone in his way. He has no desire to improve anyone's lives, even those who follow him. He desires nothing except to rule absolute over the ashes of our world."

The audience was silent.

"In spite of this, do not despair. I fought Voldemort to a draw, alone, in Hangleton. He only cast the Fiendfyre that decimated the region in a desperate act to delay my allies while he ran away. He ran away once again, abandoning his own followers, when we found and confronted him in Malfoy Manor. He may have regained some of his original Death Eaters, but eventually we will catch up to him. Even Voldemort cannot run forever. And when we find him, we'll put him back in the ground and make sure that it sticks this time."

"Harry."

Harry looked up from his breakfast and saw Neville standing before him, rigid and tense. He had a copy of the morning newspaper crumpled in one hand. His soul rippled with rage in a way that Harry had never felt from his laid-back friend before.

Harry stood to face him. It felt like the right thing to do.

"My parents were tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry continued to stare into Neville's bloodshot eyes and furious soul.

"They're still in St Mungo's, but they're not really there."

Neville opened one clenched fist and looked down at a rumpled chewing gum wrapper.

"I've been asleep for too long, Harry."

Harry considered the steel in his friend's soul and nodded. "Come with me, then."