Chapter Thirty-Eight: The New Minister
"Bloody hell, Harry, I can't believe you had to get past another dragon."
"You're telling me," Harry muttered in reply. After returning to Hogwarts, he had asked Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Astoria to join him in the Room of Requirement, so he could bring them up to speed on the day's adventure.
"At least I had Dumbledore with me this time."
"Even so, that was some really quick thinking on your part," said Hermione. "Transfiguring something you've only seen once and have never held in your hands is rather impressive, too — especially something with moving parts."
"Yeah, Dumbledore sort of pointed out that some of my best magic happens when I'm not really thinking about it and just act on instinct — usually because I'm desperate," admitted Harry. "He also said that he's the exact opposite, so we complement each other pretty well."
"I do feel a bit sorry for the dragon, though," remarked Astoria.
Hermione nodded fiercely in agreement. "It's absolutely barbaric to treat a living thing that way," she replied passionately. "I can't imagine what an awful life it has."
They all seemed to agree on that point; even Ron, who usually had difficulty sympathising with any creature that had the potential to eat him without a second thought.
"What happened next?" asked Neville.
"Nothing much," replied Harry. "Fawkes brought us back to Dumbledore's office, we destroyed the Horcrux with the sword, and then we went to meet up with Astoria's dad in the Three Broomsticks."
"I still can't believe Father helped you. How did he seem after?"
"Fine, I suppose. We talked for a while, but he went home after one drink. I think he mostly just wanted to make sure everything worked out all right."
"Did you let Bill know, too?" Ron asked insistently. "I mean, he put his job on the line, and then some. If the goblins ever figure out what happened…"
"Dumbledore said he was in touch with Bill," Harry assured his friend. "Apparently, the Order have their own ways of communicating. So far at least, it looks like we got away without the goblins suspecting anything was wrong."
"That's good," replied Ron, visibly relaxing.
"With the cup gone, that means there's only one Horcrux left," observed Hermione, and a slight tension settled in the room. "Professor Dumbledore really thinks Voldemort turned his snake into one?"
"That's right," Harry he confirmed. "We don't have any proof, of course, but Dumbledore's reasoning make sense, and it definitely feels like something Voldemort would do."
"So…what happens now?" asked Neville, looking around at everyone, but Harry in particular.
It was a relatively simple question, but one for which Harry realised he didn't have an answer. "I honestly have no idea," he admitted — to himself, as much as the others. He blew out a deep breath and sank back into the couch while Astoria patted his leg supportively.
"Whatever it is, we'll be ready," Ron declared confidently, as he moved to stand up. "But it doesn't look like the final battle's going to happen tonight, so I say we call it a day and head down to dinner. Who's with me?"
Hermione gave her boyfriend an exasperated look, but Harry just laughed at the predictability of it all and decided to stand up, too. That was seemingly enough to get the rest on board with Ron's plan, and so they all got up and left the Room of Requirement together. They took their time walking, as dinner in the Great Hall was only just getting underway, but Harry deliberately moved slower than the rest so that he and Astoria were basically alone by the time they even made it down to the sixth floor.
"I'm really glad you're back," he told her as they walked.
"Me too," she replied, squeezing his hand. "I missed you. I know we talked through the diaries, but it isn't the same, is it?"
"Definitely not."
"Maybe we can spend some time in the Room together after dinner?"
"I think that's a brilliant idea," grinned Harry.
"I thought you might agree," Astoria smirked back. By that time, they had fallen well behind the others and had to wait at the top of one of the moving staircases for it to swing back to their side. "It's been really hard," she confessed. "Father wanted to spend time with me, especially after Mother went away, but we didn't have much to talk about, other than Daphne. I — I miss her so much…"
"I know," Harry replied quietly, slipping an arm around Astoria's waist as she leaned her head against his shoulder. "He talked about you a lot today, when we were at the Three Broomsticks," he added a moment later.
"Really?"
"Yeah. He's really proud of you, you know? The way you stand up for what you believe in, and how you always try to do what's right."
Astoria lifted her head from Harry's shoulder and looked up at him.
"He really said that?"
"I'm summarising, but essentially, yes. More than that, though, it was the way he spoke about you where it really came through," explained Harry. "Honestly, I think him wanting to help us is less about revenge and more because he feels like a failure. For not being able to protect you and Daphne," he clarified, in response to Astoria's look of confusion.
"Oh…" she replied thoughtfully. "What else did you talk about?"
"He had a few…questions…about our relationship," Harry awkwardly revealed. "Mostly normal dad stuff, I think. He more or less just wanted to know how serious I am about you."
"And what did you tell him?" Astoria asked curiously, while attempting to keep her tone neutral.
"The truth," he replied simply, taking advantage of the stairs returning in order to avoid having to elaborate. Taking Astoria by the hand, he started down the steps. "Come on," he said, "the others are probably in the Great Hall by now."
Astoria looked at him suspiciously for a moment but chose not to press the issue.
"Just so you know, he did ask how much I knew about your condition," Harry added delicately. "I told him I knew about the curse, of course, but I didn't mention anything about meeting Gaunt or the counter-curse."
"That's probably for the best," she agreed. "He'd probably just think you were daft anyway."
"Well, who's to say I'm not?" he replied cheekily.
"Oh, you definitely are, but I love you all the same," said Astoria, prompting a snort out of Harry. "In any case, we should probably tell him together if we do break the curse."
"You mean when we break the curse," Harry corrected her.
"Fine…when we break the curse," she repeated, subtly smiling at his confidence in the matter.
When they finally made it to the Great Hall, Harry couldn't help but notice the unusual tension and pockets of hushed conversation scattered about the room. Professor Dumbledore's seat at the staff table was empty, as was Snape's, but the rest of the teachers were all talking to one another wearing serious expressions.
"I'm going to go sit with the girls," Astoria told him, letting go of his hand and drifting towards the Ravenclaw table. "I'll see you after dinner, okay?"
"Yeah…tell them I said hi," he replied distractedly. His eyes skimmed the Gryffindor table for a moment until he spotted Ron and Hermione on the far side. "What's happened?" he enquired before even sitting down.
"Dementor attack," Ron answered gravely. "Somewhere near Birmingham, if the rumours are true. Something like forty muggles were kissed."
"That's the third attack in the past two weeks."
"The third one that we know about," Hermione added conspiratorially, as Harry took his seat. "I wouldn't be surprised if there were other, smaller attacks that just haven't been reported in the Prophet. I know they're not just blindly reporting whatever the Minister tells them to anymore, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's managed to keep some things quiet."
"I think it's time to get the Underground going all-in on learning the Patronus," declared Harry. "What night this week do we all have free?"
Ron grimaced and glanced further down the table before replying.
"Well, we're playing Hufflepuff on Saturday now, so Angelina —"
"I'll talk to Angelina," interrupted Harry. "This is loads more important than Quidditch, so she'll give us a night off whether she likes it or not. If I have to, I'll give her my personal guarantee that I'll catch the Snitch."
"Not a bad idea, really," shrugged Ron, speaking between bites. "He's all right, I guess — I mean, for a 'Puff, at any rate — but Merlin will come back to life and challenge Snape to a game of Exploding Snap before Summerby beats you to the Snitch."
"My thoughts exactly," grinned Harry. "So, let's see if we can pull everyone together for tomorrow."
Monday turned out to be too short notice for most people, so the full Hogwarts Underground convened on Tuesday night instead. Harry wanted to meet on Thursday as well, but the Hufflepuff Quidditch team seemed reticent, and Angelina outright refused to cancel another practice. They eventually reached a compromise, with the Quidditch captains promising no additional practices for at least a fortnight after the match, in exchange for Harry holding off on any further Underground meetings until the following week.
When he woke up on Saturday morning, Harry admittedly wasn't all that thrilled to be playing Quidditch, feeling like his time would be better served preparing for his next inevitable confrontation with Lord Voldemort. Fortunately, between the jubilant mood of the students, the near-perfect match conditions, and some encouraging words from Ron, by the time he made his way out to the pitch, Harry was as ready as ever to hop on his trusty Firebolt and lead Gryffindor to victory.
"All right, listen up people," barked Angelina from the front of the Gryffindor locker room, just as the team were finishing putting on their uniforms. "The Hufflepuffs don't have a particularly strong side this year. They've already lost to Ravenclaw, as you know, but that does not mean we're allowed to get complacent. You all know Smith from the Underground — he's probably their best Chaser, so Beaters, your job is to make him regret ever having picked up a broomstick."
"No worries, Captain," Fred stated confidently. "If you haven't noticed, Smith's a bit of an idiot."
"He'll be lucky if he even knows which hoops are his, by the time we're through with him," added George.
"You'd better be right," Angelina nodded fiercely, "because rumour has it that a few scouts from the professional leagues are in the audience today," she revealed, causing most of the team to look around excitedly at one another. "Harry, I know you guaranteed a catch today — and I'm holding you to that — but, if at all possible, I want you to hold off for a while so the rest of us have a chance to show them what we've got."
"Not a problem," Harry replied unconcernedly. "I watched Summerby against Ravenclaw. He mostly just followed Cho around the pitch hoping she'd make a mistake, so I reckon I can string him along for as much time as you need."
"At least a hundred points ahead would be ideal, but any more than that would put us in much better position to win the Cup, so no rush — just make sure you catch the Snitch!"
After one last pep talk, the Gryffindor team marched out of the locker room and onto the pitch. Madam Hooch gave her usual pre-match instructions, and then moments later they were underway. Harry started off as he usually did — flying lazy laps around the pitch under the guise of searching for the Golden Snitch. As expected, Summerby had decided to simply mark Harry instead of looking for the Snitch on his own, which Harry thought made his job almost too easy.
After Alicia scored to put Gryffindor up eighty to twenty, he decided it was time to make things a bit more interesting and finally make his presence felt in the match. He slowed up for a moment to let Summerby nearly catch up with him, and then, with a wink to his trailing counterpart, Harry flipped over and pushed his Firebolt into a blistering inverted dive right through the heart of the Hufflepuff defence, opening up a clear path for Angelina to score again and push their lead to seventy.
"You're mad, Potter!" shouted Summerby, as Harry backtracked and buzzed past him going the opposite direction.
Grinning like a loon, his burdens temporarily forgotten, Harry laughed and pulled himself into a steep climb before breaking off to disrupt the Hufflepuff Chasers. It went on like this for some time, with Gryffindor adding a few more goals, until Summerby finally abandoned trying to keep up with Harry and went into desperation mode in search of the Snitch. That caused Harry to switch up his own tactics a bit — and it was a good thing he did, because otherwise he might not have noticed the glint of gold flittering a few feet above the Hufflepuff Seeker.
Recognising that he was too far out of position to go for the catch, Harry did his best Viktor Krum impersonation and executed a nearly flawless Wronski Feint, diving towards the ground in a tight barrel roll as if in pursuit of the Snitch, only to pull up at the last moment while a trailing Summerby ploughed himself into the turf. With the opposing Seeker out of the way, Harry had little difficulty tracking down the tiny golden ball and ending the match, much to the delight of the Gryffindor faithful.
"And that will do it!" called the excited voice of Lee Jordan over the roar of the crowd. "Harry Potter catches the Snitch after a superb display of flying, and Gryffindor win, three-hundred-twenty to forty!"
Harry's teammates joined him for one final lap around the pitch with the fist grasping the Snitch raised victoriously above his head, making sure to fly low past the Ravenclaw section, where Astoria blew him a kiss as he passed. After their victory lap, the team touched down on the pitch, where they were greeted by a crowd of exuberant Gryffindors in full celebration mode. Harry waded through the mass of bodies and allowed his housemates to come up and congratulate him, only to stop and turn around when a familiar voice called out to him.
"Nice catch, Harry!"
"Oliver?"
Marching in his direction was Oliver Wood, the former Gryffindor Keeper, accompanied by a slightly older man sporting a navy-blue overcoat.
"I can't believe you actually made it," beamed Harry, as Wood vigorously shook his hand.
"Told you I would, didn't I?" replied Wood, as if it had never been a question in his mind. "I knew they wouldn't be able to keep you out for long. The team looked good out there today. You're twice the Seeker you were when I was captain, and was that another Weasley I saw minding the hoops?"
"Yeah, Ron," nodded Harry. "Their sister will wind up on the team next year, too."
At that point, the older man loudly cleared his throat and gave Oliver a pointed look.
"Right, sorry," said Wood apologetically. "Harry Potter, I'd like to introduce you to Philbert Deverill, manager of Puddlemere United."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Potter," professed Deverill, as he enthusiastically shook Harry's hand. "Wood here's been singing your praises since he made the active roster, so when he told me he was coming to your match today, I thought I'd tag along."
"It's nice to meet you too, sir," Harry replied cordially.
"I've heard rumours of your skills, of course," the Puddlemere manager continued. "I must confess I assumed them to be exaggerated, but after seeing you in action, I'm forced to admit that if anything, the rumours are underselling your talent."
Harry, who had never imagined his play catching the attention of a professional Quidditch manager, was completely taken aback by the man's comments. Did people outside of Hogwarts really talk about him like that?
"Er — thanks," he replied uncertainly.
"Have you ever considered playing professionally?"
"Not really — at least not until Oliver mentioned it to me after one of your matches," he answered honestly.
"Well, you have plenty of time to think about it," said Deverill encouragingly. "You're only in what, your sixth year at Hogwarts?"
"Fifth, actually."
"Is that so?" the man replied, his eyes lighting up in an almost greedy expression. "Well, I very much look forward to following your development over the next few years. If today is any indication, then you will certainly have no shortage of options, but I urge you to keep us in mind. We're building a winning club at Puddlemere," he added, clapping Wood on the shoulder, "and I could easily see you playing a part in it."
"That'd be brilliant; I'll definitely think about it," promised Harry.
"Excellent. I'm glad to have had the chance to meet you today."
"Likewise," he replied, shaking the man's hand for a second time. "It was good to see you too, Oliver. We'll definitely have to keep in touch."
"You can count on it," Wood assured him, as they turned to leave. "Come on, Phil. I want to introduce you to some of the Chasers…"
Harry stood and watched them walk away, his head spinning with possibilities. Could he really have a career as a professional Quidditch player after Hogwarts? Naturally, the idea had crossed his mind once or twice over the years, but it was always fleeting — a pipe dream that he never believed for a moment would actually come true. It was almost amusing how only a brief conversation later, the dream suddenly seemed attainable — assuming he survived the war, of course. And just like that, the picture of the far-off future he was fighting to have for himself became a little bit clearer.
oOoOoOo
The good mood Harry had been experiencing after Saturday's Quidditch match was not to last. Only two days later, the news broke of another Death Eater attack in Caerphilly. The picture on the front page of that morning's Daily Prophet was of the Dark Mark hovering ominously over the smouldering ruins of what had once been a row of modest homes. Over a dozen people had been killed, with several more sent to St. Mungo's with serious injuries.
After having recently lost several of his followers, Voldemort's latest plan was apparently to try and instil fear in the magical population by attacking vulnerable targets, seemingly at random. Much to his dismay, Harry observed that it seemed to be working — at least, if the conversations around Hogwarts were any indication. Another sign was the extra layer of tension underlying that evening's meeting of the Hogwarts Underground, which Harry decided to use as motivation to push the group even harder. As a result, both the regular and advanced groups were looking sharper than ever, and within a few weeks, another half dozen individuals would finally master the Patronus Charm.
On top of that, his sessions with Dumbledore had kicked back into high gear, with both of them feeling a new sense of urgency — between the war finally beginning in earnest and only one Horcrux left to destroy. Harry had asked the headmaster on more than one occasion what they were going to do about the snake, but if Dumbledore had a plan, he was apparently not ready to share it.
All in all, between the constant training, regular reports of dementors, Death Eaters, and disappearances in the Prophet, not to mention their looming O.W.L.s and the correspondingly gruelling pace of their lessons, Harry was definitely ready for a break by the time April rolled around. That was why, for the first time ever, he planned to spend the Easter holidays away from Hogwarts. Of course, being able to go to his new home and spend time with Sirius played heavily into that decision as well.
Hermione, along with most of the other fifth years, would be staying at the castle and using the extra time to prepare for their exams, which of course meant that Ron would be staying as well. So, knowing they would have two full weeks apart, the three of them made sure to go down to breakfast together before Harry had to catch the Hogwarts Express back to London. Sirius had offered to meet him in Hogsmeade and Apparate them back home, but Harry decided he would rather take the train back with Astoria, who was also going home for Easter.
"Harry, I do hope you plan on revising during the break," Hermione said pointedly, her tone already teetering on the edge of full-on lecture mode. Even though they still had two months until their exams, she was already obsessively going over her last five years' worth of notes and pestering some of the older students about what to expect from her O.W.L.s.
"I will," Harry promised his bookish friend. "I'm not really worried about my practicals, except maybe Potions, but I'm planning on going over all my theory work again."
"Don't forget History of Magic," she reminded him. "Neither you nor Ron ever pay the slightest bit of attention in class, so if you want to pass, you'll need to really put the work in. I swear, how the two of you —"
"Hermione, can you pass the toast?" said Ron suddenly, heading her off before she could really get going.
"Oh — yes, of course," she replied distractedly as she slid the plate towards Ron, who gave Harry a subtle wink.
"Have you and Sirius made any plans for when you're home?" Ron asked Harry.
"Not really," he shrugged. "We may try to catch a Quidditch match or something, but I'm not really sure. I reckon he'll want to get out at least a few times, now that most people know he's not a criminal."
"I think we can all understand that, but you two still need to be careful," said Hermione, sounding slightly worried. "Things have been getting really dangerous out there, and I wouldn't — oh, the post is here…"
Harry looked up, and sure enough, dozens of owls had begun swooping into the Great Hall to deliver the mail. What once was a mundane affair, the arrival of the morning post had recently become a source of trepidation for both students and staff. A large brown owl dropped the latest edition of the Daily Prophet on the table in front of Hermione, who gasped when she unfolded the newspaper and read the headline.
AZKABAN ATTACKED! MULTIPLE PRISONERS ESCAPE!
For the second time in six months, Azkaban prison found itself under assault from the outside, leading to the escape of multiple inmates, including several violent offenders. According to reports, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named personally led the attack, which occurred just after midnight and resulted in the deaths of two on-duty Aurors and four guards stationed at the prison.
We reached out to Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for comment, who had only this to say: "Our condolences go out to the family of those men and women killed in the attack. Recent events have made it clear that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was behind not only this incident, but the breakout that occurred in October as well. We are taking this event extremely seriously and are working to ensure that something like this cannot happen again."
Madam Bones went on to state that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's captured supporters — known as the Death Eaters — had previously been moved to an alternate location and remain in Ministry custody. Turn to page 3 for a full list of known escapees.
"Why would old snake face bother breaking anyone out of Azkaban if the Death Eaters weren't even there to begin with?" Ron wondered aloud, the three of them having squeezed together on the bench so they could all read the article.
"He probably didn't know," replied Harry. "The Death Eaters being shipped out of Azkaban was supposed to be a secret."
"I'll bet Voldemort made those other prisoners promise to serve him if he broke them out," said Hermione. "I mean, if he was already there, then why not use the opportunity to recruit?"
"You're probably right," agreed Harry, as his eyes trailed down to the second headline.
FUDGE RESIGNS!
RUFUS SCRIMGEOUR NAMED MINISTER FOR MAGIC
In a surprising move, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge announced his resignation early this morning. Minister Fudge had been facing significant scrutiny following the revelation that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has indeed returned, especially in light of his repeated assurances that there was no truth to the rumours, and that both Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter were lying in order to destabilise the country.
Calls for Minister Fudge's resignation have been growing louder in the face of increasingly frequent attacks against both the magical and muggle communities. The latest attack on Azkaban prison and subsequent mass escape was apparently the final straw, as Fudge's resignation came within minutes of the announcement. Former Minister Fudge could not be reached for comment.
The Wizengamot wasted no time in appointing Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour to the post. When asked, Minister Scrimgeour declined to provide a statement, stating that he would be speaking from the Ministry and responding to questions at noon today. For a full accounting of Scrimgeour's career, including his time with the Aurors, turn to page 2.
"Well, I'm definitely not sorry to see Fudge go," Harry said bitterly. "I just wish he would've done us all a favour and quit years ago."
"Would've saved us from having to deal with Umbridge, at least," said Ron, who was looking up at the staff table. "I wonder what's going to happen with Percy. I mean, the whole 'High Inquisitor' thing was Fudge's idea — d'you reckon Scrimgeour will want to keep it going?"
"I've only spoken to him a few times, but Scrimgeour seems like the 'no nonsense' type to me," replied Harry. "I kind of get why they'd want him as Minister with everything going on. My guess is he'll think the whole thing's just a big waste of time."
"He wouldn't be wrong," offered Hermione, following Ron's gaze. "I just hope it's finally enough for Percy to come to his senses and make up with the family."
"Yeah, we'll see…" muttered Ron, not sounding particularly optimistic.
Harry glanced up in the direction of the staff table and saw Percy reading his own copy of the Daily Prophet, looking like he might be sick at any moment. Suddenly, as if sensing their eyes on him, he looked up and then quickly stood, tucked the paper under his arm, and hurriedly exited the Great Hall through the side door. Obviously irritated with his older brother, Ron simply shook his head and went back to his breakfast. Hermione exchanged significant looks with Harry before rubbing Ron's back consolingly. It was hard knowing that there wasn't anything they could do to help, but like it or not, Percy would have to be the one to make things right with the other Weasleys.
Before long, Harry had to say goodbye to Ron and Hermione and join the small crowd of students waiting to leave the castle. With so few students travelling home for Easter, the actual ride back to London turned out to be fairly uneventful. Harry shared a compartment with Astoria and her Ravenclaw friends, including Luna, who had seemingly bonded with Noreen and Felicity after their shared experience in Hogsmeade.
For the most part, the conversation on the train was fun and light-hearted, though there were a few instances where Astoria would go quiet for a while and stare blankly out the window. While that sort of thing would not be all that unusual for anyone on such a long train ride, Harry was fairly certain that she was thinking about Daphne during those times. All in all, Astoria seemed to be coping well — as far as Harry could tell, at least — but that certainly didn't mean she was having an easy time with it.
Not liking the sense of helplessness he felt on those occasions, Harry had asked her more than once what he could do to help, but her answer was always the same. Knowing that there was nothing he could do was quite difficult for Harry, whose usual instinct was to leap into action, but he quickly figured out that a simple touch, or other gentle reminder that he was there usually returned the smile to her face, if only for a minute.
Evening was rapidly approaching by the time the Hogwarts Express finally arrived at platform nine and three-quarters. After disembarking, Harry intended to escort Astoria to her father before going to find Sirius, but those plans changed slightly when they stepped onto the platform to see an unexpected visitor apparently awaiting Harry's arrival.
"Harry, is that…"
"Our new Minister?"
Sure enough, Rufus Scrimgeour was standing no more than twenty feet from them and looking directly at Harry, flanked by two men who Harry assumed were Aurors, though they were not in uniform. A short way off to the side was Sirius, who was looking warily at the Minister and seemingly wishing that Harry had agreed to meet up in Hogsmeade instead.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Greengrass," Scrimgeour greeted them as they approached.
"Mr. Scrimgeour," nodded Harry in return. "I hear congratulations are in order."
"So they say," the Minister replied. "As you are already aware, I am not one to beat around the bush. I came here to request a few minutes of your time. Your…guardian," he continued, inclining his head towards Sirius, "insists on being present for any conversation that may occur behind closed doors; a request I am willing to accommodate, of course, if you agree to join me."
Realising she was superfluous to the conversation, Astoria pulled on Harry's sleeve to get his attention. "I see my father over there, so I think I'll just leave you to it. Write to me later, okay?" she said quietly.
"All right."
"Minister," said Astoria with a small curtsy, before taking her leave.
"Well, Mr. Potter?"
"Fine," agreed Harry. "Where do you want to do this?"
"If I'm not mistaken, there are some gardens a short walk from the station," replied Scrimgeour. "It should not be too difficult to ensure our privacy there."
"Lead the way."
Without another word, Scrimgeour and his Aurors turned and began walking back towards the platform entrance, Harry falling into step behind them while Sirius joined him at his side.
"Are you sure about this?" muttered Sirius, as they walked.
"I see no reason not to speak to him," replied Harry, trusting the ambient noise of the busy train station to muffle their conversation. "He's been decent enough the couple of times we've met before."
"All right, I'll trust your judgment — just be careful," cautioned Sirius. "Just remember, like your grandfather used to say: if you have something truly valuable to offer, then you should never give it away for free."
Harry stopped walking for a second and looked at his godfather questioningly.
"My grandfather said that?"
"He did," confirmed Sirius, rubbing his cheek. "He mostly meant in business, I think, but it could apply here as well. Otherwise, your grandparents were pretty charitable — they took me in, after all." Sirius looked around for a second before leaning in closer. "Look," he whispered, "all I'm saying is that if the Ministry wants something from you now, after everything they've put you through, then they'd damned sure better make it worth your while."
Harry nodded his understanding and began walking again, hurrying a bit in order to catch up to the Minister. His godfather had made a good point; the only questions were what the Minister wanted from him, and what, if anything, could Harry possibly ask for in return?
"Could you…do you think you could tell me about them sometime?" asked Harry, a few moments later. "My grandparents," he clarified, seeing Sirius's look of confusion.
"Oh — of course," replied his godfather, looking slightly abashed. "I'm sorry, I never thought…" Sirius sighed in frustration. "I know I haven't really been…you know — all there — since I got out of Azkaban, but I like to think I'm getting better, especially these past few months. Still, I sometimes forget how little you actually know about your family," he explained sadly. "I'll try to do better, but please ask me anything you want to know. I may not have all the answers, but I'll tell you everything I can."
"Thanks," Harry grinned in reply, attempting to let Sirius know that he didn't hold anything against him. Sirius patted Harry firmly on the back, and then they continued following after the Minister in contemplative silence until they finally reached the gardens Scrimgeour had mentioned.
It was a quaint little area, with plenty of tree cover and an extremely old church near its centre. After settling into an open space, Scrimgeour nodded to each of the Aurors in turn, who then split off in opposite directions to guard the perimeter. There were a few muggles walking about, but no one paid them any mind as the Minister took out his wand and erected a privacy bubble around the two of them and Sirius.
"I appreciate your agreeing to meet with me," said Scrimgeour, in his usual gruff voice. "I spoke with Dumbledore this morning, but he was…reluctant…to put me in touch with you. Quite understandable, of course, but I feel it is important that we understand one another, which is why I reached out to Black."
"What exactly can I do for you, Minister?" Harry asked sceptically.
"The wizarding public can be fickle, at times," began Scrimgeour, and Harry had to hold back a snort. "I cannot speak for how things are at Hogwarts, but over the past several weeks, a large part of the country has seemingly come to believe that you will be the one to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Scrimgeour fixed him with a steely gaze as if to assess his reaction, but Harry remained silent. "Why would you say that is, Mr. Potter?" he asked finally.
"You said it yourself," shrugged Harry. "The wizarding public is fickle. Two months ago, I was either a nutter or a criminal, depending on who you asked. Last year wasn't much better with the tournament. Now I'm a hero again, but I'm sure it'll flip again at some point."
"Perhaps," Scrimgeour replied thoughtfully, "but there is more to it than that, isn't there?" The Minister stepped closer to Harry, causing Sirius to move protectively to his side. "I am no fool, Mr. Potter," he asserted. "I suspect that you and your parents were attacked that night for a reason. You showed me the memory of the graveyard, remember? Why would the Dark Lord create such an elaborate plot just so he could use you specifically for his rebirthing ritual? Why has Dumbledore taken such a vested interest in you?"
"Why do you think, Minister?"
"You are a fifteen-year-old student, and yet you continually find yourself at the centre of extraordinary events. Surely you can see how this would make it easy for the average witch or wizard to hold you up as a hero of sorts? Perhaps one who may be destined to succeed where others have failed, and defeat the Dark Lord once and for all?"
Harry was starting to get annoyed by the line of questioning and was about to say so when his godfather jumped in on his behalf. "All right, we get it," Sirius growled irritably. "Harry's great and wizards are fickle. Would you hurry up and get to the point already?"
Scrimgeour's eyes narrowed momentarily, but he managed to hold back his retort. "Very well, then," he replied diplomatically. "The Ministry's reputation has recently lost some of its lustre, in the eyes of the public."
"For good reason," Harry pointed out.
"That, I cannot deny," admitted Scrimgeour, before continuing. "But be that as it may, we are living in dangerous times, and it is of upmost importance that this country's citizens have faith that their government is working for them. If we are to win this war, then we must stand united."
Harry and Sirius exchanged looks with one another.
"Er — that's fine and all, but what exactly does that have to do with me?"
"He wants you to pretend you're suddenly pals with the Ministry," Sirius cut in. "Let them borrow some of your credibility, since Fudge stuffed most of theirs up Malfoy's arse."
"You go too far," bristled Scrimgeour. "Do you think I enjoy being put in this position? There is but a single thread preventing this country from collapsing into chaos, and we cannot afford to let it snap. Yes, I want you to put your support behind the Ministry," he admitted without shame, his eyes boring into Harry's. "I understand your personal feelings, but I am asking you to set them aside and do what is right, for the good of the country."
As livid as Harry was at the audacity of it all, part of him understood where the Minister was coming from. While he would never in a million years blindly support the Ministry, if they actually did something to earn his support…then maybe he would consider it. Rufus Scrimgeour may never be his favourite person, but Harry was confident that the man was about as far removed from being a Death Eater as one could possibly be. Harry didn't even want to think about how bad things could get if Voldemort's supporters managed to get rid of Scrimgeour and take control of the Ministry.
"All right," Harry replied finally, surprising Sirius. "I'll help you, but only if the Ministry holds up their end of the bargain. I'll promise my public support, but only if you put a stop to all the lying and corruption."
"You understand, of course, that change does not happen overnight," Scrimgeour said evenly.
"I get that, but you've got to start somewhere," insisted Harry. "It helps that the Prophet already stopped printing Fudge's lies; just don't make the same mistakes he did. You might consider getting rid of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor as a show of good faith."
"It's Weasley now, isn't it?" the Minister frowned. "Aren't they all friends of yours?"
"Not the point," countered Harry. "The position itself was only created to undermine Dumbledore in the first place. That's the sort of thing Fudge wasted his time on, when he should've been working against Voldemort."
Scrimgeour looked at him speculatively for a moment before nodding his agreement.
"Very well," he said. "It doesn't seem as though Dolores will be coming back anytime soon, so I doubt anyone will complain. I'll even go one step further and let Weasley have his old job back."
Harry schooled his expression, a slight raising of the eyebrows his only reaction.
"Still no word from Umbridge, then?" asked Sirius curiously.
Scrimgeour shook his head. "Fudge had the Aurors searching for months, but they've seen neither hide nor hair of her," he explained. "He's convinced there was foul play involved, but if there was, we'd have found something by now. No, I pulled our people off the case earlier this afternoon — we have much bigger problems to be concerned with at the moment."
"I'll say," muttered Sirius, but Scrimgeour ignored his comment in favour of addressing Harry once more.
"Anything else?"
Harry glanced over at Sirius, the reminder about Umbridge bringing a concerning thought to the front of his mind. "I'm — er — not going to run into any legal trouble if I keep fighting Death Eaters, am I?" he enquired awkwardly. "No one's said anything after the last two incidents, but…"
"I understand what you are asking. You and your friends faced no inquiry for Diagon Alley and the Lestranges' because your actions were clearly justified," the Minister explained. "I shall speak with Madam Bones, but I do not anticipate any issues, as long as you stick to defending others and not resort to vigilantism."
"That's a relief," said Harry, "but it would also be helpful if I didn't have to worry about getting in trouble for using magic underage or Apparating without a license."
"You ask for much while offering little in return. Granting an exemption for the Reasonable Restriction decree and an Apparition licence is possible, but that will require more on your part."
"Like what?"
"I wish for us to work together to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That requires, for one, that we share information with one another. Dumbledore has been notoriously tight-lipped about the issue, which makes it all the more difficult for me to fight this war. The Ministry cannot hope to be effective if we lack critical information."
"You may be right, but it's a matter of trust, Scrimgeour," said Sirius. "How many Death Eaters are working in the Ministry right now? It's no good sharing information with your lot, if everything we tell you gets reported back to Voldemort."
"I can assure you —"
"What about Yaxley?" interrupted Harry. "Wasn't he high up in your old department before he was caught? Macnair's another one — he was at the graveyard too, if you remember. And wasn't one of them — Rookwood, I think — an Unspeakable at some point?"
"Well, yes —"
"I remember Dumbledore arguing with Fudge the night Voldemort came back," continued Harry, before Scrimgeour could finish his thought. "He actually wanted to work together, but Fudge refused to believe us — that's when all the trouble started. That's why I'm willing to work with you, and I think Dumbledore will be too, as long as you're willing to accept that there are some things we simply can't tell you. We all want the same thing, don't we?"
"We do," the Minister reluctantly agreed, "but what you are asking also requires trust; trust that you and Dumbledore are actually capable of orchestrating the Dark Lord's defeat. How can I be sure?"
Harry looked to Sirius for an opinion, but his godfather merely jerked his head to the side as if to say it was up to him. "You asked me why I always seem to be tied up in these things, right?" he asked, and Scrimgeour nodded in anticipation. "Well, here's something I can tell you — Voldemort already knows about it, for one," he explained. "The reason Voldemort attacked me when I was a baby is because there was a prophecy made about us, shortly before I was born."
"A prophecy?" the Minister replied sceptically, though he was obviously interested in learning more.
"I know," Harry replied understandingly. "I don't care for Divination either, but Voldemort believed in the prophecy and thought he was fulfilling it by killing me — only he hadn't heard the entire thing, and it ended up literally backfiring on him."
"And what did this prophecy say?" Scrimgeour asked eagerly.
"I don't remember the specific words," he lied, "but essentially, I'm going to end up being the one to defeat him, unless he kills me first."
"I see. How…interesting," said the Minister, taking a moment to ponder the revelation. "I've never set much stock in prophecy…" he mused, apparently speaking to himself. "Although, Dumbledore must believe in it — at least to an extent — or else he would not be so invested…" Scrimgeour suddenly cleared his throat and refocused his attention on Harry. "So, that is what Dumbledore has been up to? Preparing you for an eventual confrontation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
"Basically," confirmed Harry, who then decided to take a gamble and offer the Minister another sliver of insight. "We're also trying to make sure that when we do finally kill Voldemort, he won't be able to come back again."
Scrimgeour's eyes flashed in understanding. "Are you saying that you actually know how he accomplished that feat? You know how to stop it from happening again?" he asked urgently. Even Sirius seemed taken aback by Harry's statement.
"Please understand that Voldemort absolutely cannot know about this, or else it could be catastrophic," Harry emphasised. "And before you ask, no I will not go into specifics," he continued. "Dumbledore won't like that I told you even that much, but you need to understand why it's important the Ministry not interfere with our work. This is me showing trust in you, Minister. Please don't make me regret it."
Scrimgeour took a few minutes to think it over before responding. "Very well, Mr. Potter," he said finally, speaking in a measured tone. "From this moment forward, you may consider yourself exempt from the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. Going forward, I propose that twice per month, beginning this coming Monday, we meet together in my office to discuss the war. Your Apparition license will be there waiting for you. Dumbledore can even escort you, if you wish."
"I think I can manage that."
"Good; I shall owl you with the time. Also, please make sure that whenever you do arrive at the Ministry, you do so using the main entrance."
"You mean so I can be seen."
"That is correct," replied the Minister as he ended his privacy spell. "We may have different priorities, Mr. Potter, but you can rest assured that we are on the same side. I shall see you on Monday."
With that, Scrimgeour signalled for his Aurors to rejoin him before Apparating away, leaving Harry and Sirius alone in garden.
"Harry, that was…"
"Completely mental?"
"Completely mental," agreed Sirius. "You handled yourself well, though. I have a few questions, but let's head home first. I'll bet you're hungry."
"Definitely," replied Harry, and the two of them Apparated back to Grimmauld Place — Sirius taking Harry by side-along, perhaps for the last time. As they entered the house, Harry was surprised to hear the sounds of conversation rising up the stairs from the kitchen.
"Dumbledore must've called an Order meeting," remarked Sirius, while indicating they should head downstairs and join the others. "I figured he would, but I thought he'd at least wait until after dinner."
Most of the conversation came to a stop once they entered the kitchen. The meeting clearly hadn't started yet, as Dumbledore had yet to arrive, and the gathered members of the Order were scattered about the kitchen conversing in small groups.
"Harry, dear," called Mrs. Weasley, as she bustled across the kitchen to envelop Harry in a tight hug. "It's wonderful to see you, of course, but you'll need to leave before the meeting starts. Come now, I'll —"
"This is Harry's house, and he doesn't need to go anywhere," Sirius responded firmly, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go on, then," he said to Harry, gesturing towards the table. "Take a seat, and I'll have Kreacher bring you something."
"Now Sirius, I really don't think —"
"This isn't up for debate, Molly," said Sirius, cutting across her. "No one, and I mean no one is allowed to send Harry away in his own home. If any of you don't like it, then feel free to bugger off."
Mrs. Weasley looked scandalised, but Harry really appreciated his godfather taking a stand for him. As much as he loved Mrs. Weasley, her overprotectiveness and the corresponding need to have this same conversation with her over and over again was growing tiresome.
"I say let the lad stay," barked Moody. "Boy's taken out more Death Eaters than the rest of you lot put together."
"Really, Alastor —"
"Harry is welcome to stay," called a voice from the doorway, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore striding into the room, followed by Snape, who was looking particularly sour-faced.
Sighing in defeat, Mrs. Weasley went to sit down next to her husband to await the start of the meeting. Meanwhile, Moody marched across the room towards Harry, every other step punctuated by a loud thunk as his wooden leg contacted the tile floor. While the rest of the Order shuffled about the room getting organised for the meeting, Moody took the seat next to his and leaned in close to speak without being overheard.
"I read the report on your little operation at Chateau Lestrange," revealed the grizzled ex-Auror. "You all did a damn fine job in a tough situation. Considering the timing and what you had to work with, your execution was damn near flawless."
"Er — thanks, but it definitely wasn't flawless," said Harry, casting his gaze down at the table. "We…lost someone that day."
"Aye, I read that too. That's part of why I wanted to talk to you," explained Moody. "I lost a few men in my day, so I have an idea of what you've been dealing with."
"Were any of them your girlfriend's sister?" Harry responded dryly, silently hoping Dumbledore would hurry up and start the meeting.
"No, lad. They were fully trained Aurors who knew what they signed up for, and they still wound up on the wrong end of a wand. What I'm trying to tell you is that sometimes, things just go tits up and it's nobody's fault." Moody scooted his chair closer, prompting Harry to look up from the table. "Listen, you and a bunch of kids dropped into a lion's den filled with murdering scum and somehow managed to come out on top. I'm not sure a team of Aurors could have done better…" he declared, before adding under his breath, "…especially not these days."
Harry had to chuckle in spite of himself. The relative 'softness' of the modern Auror corps compared to his heyday was a fairly regular complaint of Moody's.
"Look, Potter, all I'm saying is you shouldn't beat yourself up over what happened. If anyone's to blame, it's the murdering shits who thought it was a good idea to kidnap a young girl."
With a sigh and a muttered 'thanks', Harry turned away from Moody and back towards the front of the room. While nearly everyone he spoke to insisted that he bore no responsibility for Daphne's death, it did little to assuage his guilt. Regardless of others' opinions, he knew that if he had been a hair faster, or just a tiny bit stronger, then Daphne would still be alive.
He was saved from any further conversation by Dumbledore finally calling the meeting to order. Harry hadn't noticed when he first entered the room, but the headmaster seemed more tired than usual.
"Good evening, everyone," Dumbledore announced to the room, bringing all other conversation to a close. "I trust you all have heard by now that we have a new Minister," he continued, eliciting a chorus of responses in the affirmative. "Would anybody like to share their thoughts on the matter?"
"Rufus is a tough bastard," answered Moody. "They'll have a hard time pushing him around, that's for sure."
"Scrimgeour is definitely an improvement over Fudge, but I'm surprised Amelia wasn't offered the post," remarked Mr. Weasley.
Dumbledore nodded along in agreement with both statements. "From what I have learned, Madam Bones was indeed offered the position," he revealed. "However, she was concerned about handing leadership of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement over to someone else at such a critical time and declined the post."
"That was probably wise," said Sirius. "On top of that, having the new Minister be a former subordinate of hers will probably make it easier for her to get the resources she needs."
"It certainly couldn't hurt," added Kingsley, having a personal interest in the situation, being an active-duty Auror himself. "Fudge has been slashing our budget for years, leaving the Aurors understaffed and undertrained. That's part of the reason we've had such difficulty keeping up with the recent attacks."
"The increasing frequency of the attacks has been concerning," sighed Dumbledore. "Considering the most recent Azkaban breakout, I fear things will only get worse. Severus, do you have anything to share on the matter?"
"The intended purpose of the breakout was to free some of the Dark Lord's key supporters — Bellatrix and Lucius, to be specific. I am told that his fury at learning they had already been removed from Azkaban was a sight to behold," reported Snape, and Harry had to suppress a shiver at the thought. "He had already been in a state of continuous anger for weeks, after losing several of his top Death Eaters to a gang of teenagers —" At this point, Moody gave Harry an approving grin. "— and this latest setback will only provoke him further."
"And the latest escapees?"
"Hired thugs, at best," declared Snape, sneering distastefully. "Even so, the Dark Lord will use the escaped criminals to bolster his ranks. I estimate four dozen in total, although I suspect it will be some time before they have recovered enough strength to join in the attacks."
"Why even give them the time?" said Sirius. "We should go on the offensive and recapture them all, before Voldemort has a chance to use them against us. Snape must have at least some idea of where they're hiding!"
"The Dark Lord has several secure locations at his disposal," Snape replied flatly. "In recent months, much of his time has been split between Malfoy Manor and a second location, which is hidden under a Fidelius Charm. The escaped prisoners are certainly not being kept at the former, and if they were at the latter, I would be literally incapable of telling you."
"Convenient…" Harry heard Sirius mutter under his breath.
"May I ask how Mrs. Malfoy is faring with her husband still in custody?" asked Dumbledore.
Snape tore his eyes away from Sirius to reply to Dumbledore. "Narcissa has — wisely, I believe — decided to temporarily relocate to the continent, in order to be nearer to Draco at Durmstrang," he revealed. "I do not expect her to return anytime soon."
Harry hummed in surprise and exchanged glances with Sirius. He hadn't given much thought to what happened to Malfoy after he was expelled, but he supposed it made sense that he would wind up at Durmstrang, a school infamous for its tolerance of the Dark Arts. Igor Karkaroff had not returned to the school after the Triwizard Tournament, having apparently decided to go into hiding immediately following Voldemort's revival, but Harry wouldn't be surprised if Durmstrang's new headmaster was cut from the same cloth as the former Death Eater.
"So, Voldemort has access to the manor even without someone from the family present?"
"That is correct," confirmed Snape.
Remus, who had appeared lost in thought for a bit, suddenly leaned forward in his seat. "Do we have any idea what his endgame is at this point?" he asked the group at large, though his eyes were trained on Snape. "Should we not assume that all these attacks are leading up to something; a larger action of some kind?"
"It would be foolish not to," drawled Snape. "The Dark Lord believes that forcing the country to exist in a state of perpetual fear will make them more willing to submit to his rule. His ultimate plan will almost certainly involve taking over the Ministry in some capacity, although I cannot say how he plans to achieve such."
"Can't say, or won't say?" challenged Sirius.
Unsurprisingly, Sirius's comment was met with a sneer from Snape. "One cannot report what they do not know, Black. Which, I assume, is why you never have anything useful to say in these meetings," the man replied condescendingly. The rest of the Order must have been used to the one-time school enemies sniping at each other, because most of their reactions consisted of shaking heads and rolling of the eyes.
"That will be quite enough," said Dumbledore tiredly, staring at each of them in turn until they both backed down. "Now, in light of Severus's report, I fear that Madam Bones is even more of a target than before. Based on her statement to the Daily Prophet, Voldemort will likely conclude that she has knowledge of where the captured Death Eaters are being kept."
"Is there anything we can do?" asked a witch, who Harry was pretty sure was called Emmeline Vance, setting off a debate amongst the other members of the Order.
The rest of the meeting went on in the same vein, with many suggestions being thrown about but very few decisions being made. They meant well, of course, but the Order of the Phoenix simply did not have any official means to influence how the Ministry protected their officials or responded to Death Eater attacks. Eventually, they settled on having Dumbledore approach both Madam Bones and Minister Scrimgeour to let them know that outside assistance was available, if needed.
Eventually, Dumbledore dismissed them all for the evening, while asking Harry, Sirius, and Snape to remain behind. Mrs. Weasley gave Harry one last look of concern as she passed but thankfully refrained from commenting. Remus was the last one to leave the room, giving the odd foursome a curious look as he shut the door behind him.
Once the Order had finished clearing out, Dumbledore cast a spell at the door to ensure their privacy before turning back to Harry.
"I understand that the two of you met with Rufus Scrimgeour earlier this evening."
Harry exchanged looks with Sirius before responding.
"You don't miss much, do you, sir?"
"Less than most, yet perhaps more than I should," replied Dumbledore, with a hint of amusement. "Forgive me, but would you be willing to share what you discussed with our esteemed Minister."
"Well, it mostly had to do with the Ministry wanting to…what was it you said, Sirius?" he replied, glancing over at his godfather. "Oh, right — borrow some of my credibility. Apparently, I'm popular again, so Scrimgeour wants me to pop into the Ministry every couple of weeks so that people get the impression we're working together."
"I apologise, Harry," sighed Dumbledore. "Rufus approached me this morning and asked that I put him in contact with you. I declined to do so, of course, but I should have warned you that he may attempt to reach you on his own."
"That's all right — I accepted."
Whatever Dumbledore had been expecting Harry to say, that most certainly was not it. Holding in laughter at the rare look of surprise on the headmaster's face, Harry went on to explain the gist of his conversation with Scrimgeour and the arrangement they had agreed upon. When he had finished, Professor Dumbledore sat back in his chair and stroked his beard thoughtfully for a few moments as he contemplated the ramifications.
"Very well; what's done is done," the professor eventually declared. "I certainly understand your desire to boost morale, and I applaud the manner in which you extracted a few concessions of your own from Rufus — your teachers will certainly thank you for putting an end to the High Inquisitor experiment." Sitting up straighter in his seat, Dumbledore leaned forward slightly and continued, "However, I do wish that you would have done so without alluding to Voldemort's Horcruxes."
"Horcruxes?" repeated Snape, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"All I said was that we were trying to make sure he couldn't come back again," explained Harry, ignoring Snape's reaction. "I trust Scrimgeour enough to keep that to himself, and now he knows not to interfere with our business."
"As I said, what's done is done," said Dumbledore, clearly not convinced. "If nothing else, Harry's tale serves as an adequate segue into the topic I wished to discuss with you this evening," he continued, addressing Snape and Sirius. "First, are either of you familiar with what a Horcrux actually is?"
"I have come across the term, but I am unfamiliar with their actual function," replied Snape, eyeing Harry speculatively.
"Just what you told me when the locket tried to possess Harry," said Sirius with a shake of the head, causing Snape to turn sharply towards him. "I'll let Albus explain it, but it turns out Regulus stole one from Voldemort and hid it here. It tried to possess Harry when he was here over the summer, but he managed to fight it off."
"That he did," said Dumbledore proudly. "I shall now explain everything," he continued, his tone shifting to reflect the gravity of the impending discussion, "but I cannot stress enough how important it is that the information I share with you this evening does not leave this room."
For the next half hour or so, both Sirus and Snape sat transfixed as Professor Dumbledore detailed the history of Tom Riddle and his Horcruxes, including his and Harry's quest to find and destroy each and every one of them. At a few points, Sirius grew emotional and had to stand up and pace about the kitchen, but for Harry, the most disturbing moments of the conversation were the occasional looks Snape sent his way, which almost looked like something akin to respect.
"So, you are saying that if Nagini were to be killed, then the Dark Lord would once again be fully mortal?"
"That is correct."
"And may I assume you are only revealing this now because you expect me to finish the job for you?" replied Snape, a hint of anger lacing his voice.
"If the opportunity presents itself, yes," confirmed Dumbledore. "Even if it meant revealing your true allegiance, it would be a small price to pay for the destruction of Voldemort's final Horcrux."
"Thereby signing my own death sentence for treachery to the Dark Lord," snarled Snape. "You do realise that is what will happen, do you not? The Dark Lord will kill me without a moment's hesitation!"
"Not if we kill him first," Harry pointed out, prompting Snape to round on him.
"Which I am sure is a small, insignificant feat to someone as accomplished as the Great Harry Potter," sneered the professor, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Not even your father was so arrogant. Tell me, how exactly do you intend to kill one of the most powerful Dark Wizards in all of history?"
"I've no idea," admitted Harry, ignoring the barb about his father. "But it has to be done. I know I'm no match for him in a duel, but we'll figure something out. What other choice do we have?"
"Severus, I know that I have asked much of you over the years," Dumbledore expressed tiredly. "You may consider this my final request, if you so choose. I do not wish for you to endanger yourself, but you are better positioned than anyone to strike this decisive blow against Voldemort."
"It will not be as simple as you seem to believe. Nagini has been magically augmented by the Dark Lord himself, and she will not die easily. I can think of few spells that would suffice, short of the Killing Curse, and I cannot simply carry the Sword of Gryffindor with me everywhere I go."
"Then why not just use the Killing Curse?" asked Sirius.
"Because, Black, it is a difficult spell with a long incantation," replied Snape, speaking as though he was explaining something complex to a child. "Nagini is more capable of defending herself than you realise, and attempting the spell only to miss would be the worst possible outcome."
Surprisingly, Sirius held up his hands to concede the point. All four of them fell into a contemplative silence for a moment, until something Snape said earlier sparked an idea from Harry.
"Sirius…does your family happen to own any goblin-made daggers?"
"Probably," he shrugged. "Why do you ask?"
Harry grinned in response and turned to see Dumbledore's expression matching his own. "Because we could probably use one to kill the snake if we dipped it in basilisk venom first," he suggested. "Snape may not be able to tote the Sword around, but he could easily keep a concealed dagger on him whenever he's around Voldemort."
"Severus?"
"That…may be possible, assuming you have a supply of basilisk venom readily available," Snape replied to Dumbledore, before turning back to Harry with a raised eyebrow. "Though I find it hard to believe that Potter had the forethought to salvage some from Slytherin's monster…"
"I didn't — I was too focused on getting out of there without dying," he confessed. "But Dumbledore and I went down there a few months ago, and the basilisk still looked as though it had just been killed yesterday — it hadn't decomposed at all," he explained. "If Sirius can get us a dagger, I can bring us down to the Chamber of Secrets to extract some of its venom."
"You would bring me to the Chamber?" Snape asked him, with a hint of disbelief.
"I don't see why not," Harry shrugged in response. "Fair warning, though — it's not as interesting down there as you probably think it is."
"I admit to being a bit disappointed myself," agreed Dumbledore. "However, as head of Slytherin House, Professor Snape may very well gain more from the experience than a pair of Gryffindors such as ourselves," he added, with a subtle wink to Harry.
Snape appeared to think it over for a minute before shaking his head. "Very well," he drawled, looking Dumbledore directly in the eyes. "I can make you no guarantees, but if the opportune moment arises, I will see it done."
"Thank you, Severus," replied Dumbledore, bowing his head. "Regardless of what you may believe, I do not make this request lightly. It is not an exaggeration to say that the fate of our world rests on our ability to remove the last of Tom's safeguards."
"That, and figuring out a way for a teenager to beat a Dark Lord…" Harry thought to himself.
As exciting as it was to be making progress, he realised that destroying the final Horcrux would mean that there was only one thing left to do — the responsibility for which would fall squarely on his shoulders. While he had always known the moment would come one day, he was usually able to dismiss it as a far-off concern — something an older, more experienced Harry would have to deal with. All of a sudden, the spectre of that final confrontation loomed closer than ever before, leaving an unsettling feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach.
One thing was for certain — he needed to get stronger, and fast.