CHAPTER 49 – UNMASKING THE NIGHT

As they reached the entrance, the group exchanged farewells and parted ways. Harry watched the Weasleys disappear into the night, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to protect those he cared about in the uncertain days ahead.

"I know they're trying to piece together what happened tonight," Bill said quietly to Harry. "I'm not a detective, but as a curse breaker, if you need my help, Harry, you can call me anytime. I'm also a member of the Order, so you can reach me through Dumbledore or any of my family."

They paused in the coat room, and Harry turned to shake Bill's hand gratefully. "Thanks, Bill. We might just take you up on that offer. It's good to have someone like you on our side."

"Interesting little light show at the end, huh, Potter?" came a disdainful voice from behind.

Harry stiffened as he turned to face Draco Malfoy, accompanied by his parents. Draco wore his customary sneer, but behind him, Lucius Malfoy maintained a carefully indifferent facade, while Narcissa Malfoy seemed distracted, her attention flitting about as if searching for something that displeased her.

"Now Draco, that's hardly appropriate," Lucius chided, though his own disdain was evident to anyone observant enough. Draco looked momentarily chastised, and Harry couldn't help but wonder why Lucius had bothered to reprimand his son at all. Perhaps it was merely for show—Draco's remark had been unusually blunt, even by his standards.

Ignoring Draco's jab, Harry glanced at Narcissa, noting her distant demeanor. "Mrs. Malfoy," he acknowledged with a nod, his tone neutral.

Narcissa glanced briefly at Harry before her gaze drifted away, her expression inscrutable. Lucius, meanwhile, turned his attention to Harry with an air of thinly veiled contempt.

"I trust the Ministry will handle this matter swiftly," Lucius remarked icily. "It would be a shame if such events were to tarnish the reputation of this esteemed event."

Harry clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to retort. Instead, he maintained a composed facade, refusing to give Lucius the satisfaction of a reaction. "I'm sure the Ministry is doing everything in its power," Harry replied evenly, though his tone conveyed none of the deference Lucius expected.

With a dismissive nod, Lucius turned away, guiding Narcissa and Draco toward the exit. As they walked away, Harry felt a mixture of frustration and unease. The Malfoys' presence only added to the tension of the evening, reminding him that dangers lingered not just from unknown assailants, but from familiar adversaries as well.

As the Malfoys disappeared into the night, Harry turned back to his friends, his mind already returning to the pressing questions of what lay ahead and how best to protect those he cared about in the uncertain times to come.

Harry refused to let Draco's insult slide, his voice edged with frustration and anger. "I would hardly call someone casting the Killing Curse a 'light show'," he retorted, his words sharp and pointed. "But I suppose to your father and his associates, using Unforgivable Curses is just another day in the office, isn't it?"

Lucius Malfoy's eyebrow lifted in that infuriatingly condescending manner, while Narcissa remained aloof and Draco's chagrin swiftly turned into a scowl. Bill stepped forward, laying a calming hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, perhaps it's best to let this go. The Aurors will handle it."

Ignoring Bill's advice, Harry stared directly at Lucius. "I'm not suggesting anything," he pressed on, disregarding the insult. "I'm telling you, I know you had something to do with it. Whether you cast the curse or not, you were involved."

Lucius's smile was faint but smug, and Draco's face reddened with anger at Harry's accusation. "Those are bold words for a jumped-up Half-blood, Potter," Draco spat, his tone laced with disdain.

Harry's jaw clenched, but he kept his voice steady. "At least I'm not afraid to stand up for what's right."

Lucius chuckled lightly, a patronizing sound that grated on Harry's nerves. "Ah, the impetuousness of youth," he remarked coolly. "But I assure you, Mr. Potter, my involvement in tonight's events was purely incidental. The Aurors' questioning should have clarified that."

Harry scoffed, feeling the weight of years of animosity and suspicion between them. "Maybe they haven't asked the right questions yet."

Lucius's expression hardened slightly, his facade slipping for a brief moment before regaining its composure. "Be careful, Potter," he warned softly. "Accusations can have consequences."

Harry met Lucius's gaze squarely, unflinching. "So can underestimating your enemies."

With that, Harry turned away, unwilling to engage further with the Malfoys. He felt Bill's reassuring presence at his side as they made their way out of the manor, leaving behind the tense atmosphere and the unresolved questions that lingered like shadows in the night.

Harry's retort cut through the tension like a knife, his words laced with contempt. "At least I can back up my words, ferret," he jabbed, his tone biting. "Considering the beatings you've taken over the years, I'd have thought you'd learn some caution. But I guess intelligence just doesn't run in your family."

Mrs. Malfoy's reaction was swift and venomous. She swept forward, her face twisted with fury. "You filthy little cretin! My Draco is ten times the wizard you'll ever be!"

Harry's lip curled in disdain. "Only when it comes to threatening to tell daddy," he shot back icily.

Narcissa Malfoy's eyes blazed with offense, but before she could unleash her fury, Lucius interjected with a throat-clearing cough that commanded immediate attention. She sniffed disdainfully and pivoted on her heel, returning to her husband's side with a haughty air. Draco looked torn between anger and frustration, but a single stern look from his father silenced any further outburst.

Lucius regarded Harry thoughtfully, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "It appears I will need to discuss your behavior with your guardian when the opportunity arises," he remarked coolly.

Harry shrugged indifferently. "Do what you want. But for now, I suggest you leave and take your son with you. If you're concerned about correcting behavior, perhaps you should start by asking him about the past four years at Hogwarts."

Lucius's gaze hardened, his expression betraying a hint of irritation at being challenged. "Very well," he replied evenly. "Come, Draco."

With a last measured look at Harry, Lucius turned on his heel and led his family away. Harry watched them go, feeling a mix of satisfaction and unease. The encounter had been confrontational, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was far from over. As the Malfoys disappeared into the night, Harry turned back to his friends, knowing that their troubles were far from resolved and that darker days lay ahead.

"Mr. Potter, I believe my son has offered you advice on several occasions, which you've chosen to disregard. Allow me to impart some wisdom now to prevent you from making grave mistakes in the future," Lucius Malfoy stated with a steely glare, attempting to assert authority.

Harry met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and contempt. "Sage advice indeed," he replied tersely, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Before the tension could escalate further, Jean-Sebastian approached them with a neutral expression, though Harry sensed a hint of disdain aimed at the Malfoys in his eyes. The standoff had attracted attention; those who had completed their interviews now lingered in the entrance hall, watching the exchange with muted interest.

Feeling increasingly confrontational, Harry was unbothered by the scrutiny. He knew in his gut that Malfoy had been involved in the attack, directly or indirectly. The years of rivalry and Malfoy's history of escaping consequences fueled Harry's determination not to let him slip away this time.

Yet, he acknowledged Jean-Sebastian's intervention and recognized the need to de-escalate. Now wasn't the moment for a confrontation. There would be a time for Malfoy to answer for his actions, and Harry vowed silently that he would ensure justice, if no one else would.

With a final, measured look at Lucius Malfoy, Harry turned away, joining his friends and leaving the lingering tension behind. As they walked out of the manor, he couldn't shake the feeling that "The night has indeed set the stage for more challenges and revelations to come," Jean-Sebastian remarked calmly, addressing Harry directly. "It's prudent not to jump to conclusions before all the facts are known."

"Yes, sir," Harry responded curtly, his eyes still fixed on the Malfoy family with a simmering glare. "I apologize, Mr. Malfoy, for my accusation."

Lucius Malfoy, ever the master of maintaining appearances, acknowledged Harry's words with a dismissive nod. He busied himself adjusting his overcoat, clearly uninterested in engaging further.

Jean-Sebastian grinned at Harry's response. "Now, what did we agree about calling me that?"

Harry managed a small smile and nodded. Turning to Fleur, he took her hand firmly in his own, drawing comfort from her touch. Jean-Sebastian redirected his attention to the Malfoys with a diplomatic demeanor.

"Thank you for attending tonight, and please accept my apologies for the unpleasantness," Jean-Sebastian offered graciously. "Rest assured, we will thoroughly investigate the matter."

"Of course," Malfoy replied nonchalantly, his demeanor irritating Harry once more. Despite the provocation, Harry kept his emotions in check, reassured by Fleur's supportive squeeze of his hand.

As the Malfoys prepared to leave, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was just the beginning. The night had left him with a renewed sense of vigilance and determination, knowing that the events at the ball were far from resolved.

"Please reach out to me, and we can schedule a meeting. Now, if you'll excuse us." Malfoy nodded and, casting a last glance at his family, they gracefully exited through the Floo network, their heads held high. Almost as if a signal had been given, the remaining guests also began to depart, leaving the manor's occupants in relative solitude.

Jean-Sebastian turned back to the small group of young witches and wizards. Besides Harry, Hermione, and Fleur, Susan Bones remained, as her aunt had yet to collect her. "The questioning of our guests is now complete. Miss Susan, if you would accompany Hermione upstairs, you'll find a room prepared for you. Your aunt has agreed to join us for further discussions tonight, which may go on until late."

"Thank you, sir," Susan responded, exchanging a few words with her friends—the Weasleys, who had stayed behind, observing the earlier confrontation—before departing with Hermione.

Once the two girls had left, the Weasleys bid their farewells as well, the children promising to reunite with Harry and Fleur on the Hogwarts Express. With the manor now quiet, Harry and Fleur followed Jean-Sebastian back into the house, heading towards his study. As they walked, Jean-Sebastian turned his attention to Harry.

"Harry, I understand your frustration," he began gently, "but confronting Malfoy about tonight's events won't achieve much."

Frowning deeply, Harry replied with conviction, "I can't just let him slander you and Fleur, and act like he's innocent. Fleur was nearly killed tonight—I take that very personally."

Jean-Sebastian nodded thoughtfully, opening the door to his study. Inside, the room was lined with shelves filled with ancient tomes and magical artifacts. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. "Sit down, both of you," he invited, gesturing to a pair of high-backed chairs positioned before his desk. "Let's discuss what happened and how we should proceed."

Fleur took a seat gracefully, her expression serious yet composed. She glanced at Harry with gratitude, her eyes reflecting the intensity of the evening's events. "I appreciate your defense, Harry," she said softly, her French accent lending a musical quality to her words. "But we must focus on uncovering the truth and ensuring justice is served."

Harry nodded, his resolve unwavering. "Absolutely. We need to find out who's behind this and make sure they can't harm anyone else."

Jean-Sebastian leaned forward, his demeanor grave. "I will convene with the Ministry and our allies to investigate further," he assured them. "Rest assured, we will leave no stone unturned."

The discussion continued late into the night, plans forming and strategies taking shape. Outside, the moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the grounds of the manor as they delved deeper into the mystery that threatened not only Fleur and her family but the delicate balance of peace within the wizarding world itself.

"As do I," Jean-Sebastian replied calmly, though Harry detected a subtle steel in his tone. "Harry, there's no doubt he was involved. You, I, and he know it. But proving it tonight with the evidence we have is another matter. Accusing him now serves no purpose, and could bring unwanted consequences."

"You might not realize this, but he could have challenged you for what you said," Jean-Sebastian continued, his expression serious as he looked directly at Harry. "Even someone as morally bankrupt as Lucius Malfoy would hesitate to challenge an underage wizard to a duel. The repercussions would be significant, especially if it came to light. It's best not to provoke him further."

Despite his anger, Harry begrudgingly acknowledged the wisdom in Jean-Sebastian's words. He nodded grimly. "I understand. But they won't get away with this forever."

"Of that, I have no doubt, Harry," Jean-Sebastian affirmed, sharing a determined yet grim smile with him.

"Are you two quite finished with the macho posturing?" Fleur interjected sweetly, though her expression mirrored their determination.

"No posturing—just a promise, my dear," Jean-Sebastian replied smoothly. "Let's set this aside for now. The Minister is here, and as you know, he won't entertain any accusations against Malfoy."

They entered the study, where the Minister, Madam Bones, Sirius, Dumbledore, and Apolline were engaged in quiet conversation. Leading Fleur by the hand, Harry guided her to a seat, ensuring she was comfortably settled before taking his own.

As he seated himself, Harry noticed Jean-Sebastian's smirk, and he couldn't help but return it. Fleur deserved to be treated with respect and dignity; it was a promise he intended to keep.

"Now, let us recap what we all know of this affair," Jean-Sebastian began, his voice commanding the attention of everyone in the room. "We witnessed the events in the ballroom and heard Gaston's account. Madam Bones, could you please update us on what your Aurors have discovered?"

"Unfortunately, very little," Madam Bones replied with a sigh. "As suspected, none of the wands recovered showed any signs of an Unforgivable Curse or any unusual activity. Some guests mentioned seeing others leaving the ballroom before the incident, but their reasons were innocuous—mostly bathroom breaks or the like. Given the number of people exiting the ball before and after the attack, it's possible the perpetrator slipped away unnoticed. We may never learn more than what we know now."

A heavy silence settled over the room, Harry absorbing the grim reality. It seemed the culprit might escape justice, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Voldemort was already celebrating wherever he hid.

"That is most unfortunate," Minister Fudge interjected solemnly. "Please accept the condolences of my government."

Jean-Sebastian nodded in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable.

Dumbledore broke the silence, his tone grave. "We must consider the implications of tonight's events."

"Yes, indeed," Jean-Sebastian agreed firmly. "This was a direct attack not just on one of my Aurors, but on my daughter as well. The casting of the Dark Mark strongly suggests Death Eater involvement."

"Now hold on just a moment," Minister Fudge interjected hastily. "We have no proof of such claims, let alone that it was a Death Eater."

Jean-Sebastian's gaze hardened as he turned to face the Minister. "Minister, I understand the gravity of these accusations. However, I trust the instincts of my Aurors and the evidence before us. We cannot afford to dismiss this as mere coincidence or the act of a rogue wizard."

Fudge hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I urge caution before jumping to conclusions that could have far-reaching consequences."

Dumbledore intervened with his characteristic calm authority. "Jean-Sebastian raises valid concerns. We must conduct a thorough investigation before drawing any conclusions. The safety and security of our community depend on it."

The discussion continued, voices rising and falling in debate as they grappled with the unsettling implications of the evening's events. Outside, the night grew deeper, its shadows lengthening ominously around the manor, where the echoes of a sinister threat lingered.

"Then how do you explain the Dark Mark, Minister?" Jean-Sebastian pressed, his voice unwavering.

"Anyone who knows the incantation is capable of casting the Dark Mark," Fudge replied firmly, his tone defensive. "It could have been a mere ploy—a diversion to obscure the true motive behind the attack."

"The true motive appears rather evident, Cornelius," Dumbledore interjected calmly. "The Death Eaters perceive a threat due to Jean-Sebastian's alliance and support for Harry."

"I understand your insinuation," Fudge snapped, his patience wearing thin. "But I must remind you yet again that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead. His demise was confirmed at the end of the war—continuing to propagate this idea of his return borders on sedition."

"Did you find a body, Minister?" Dumbledore inquired mildly, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Fudge. "I personally investigated the events surrounding the attack on the Potters, and I found no such evidence."

"That is irrelevant!" Fudge retorted, his frustration evident. "He is deceased and cannot return. I implore you all to abandon this fixation."

"I can provide memories," Harry interjected firmly, his voice cutting through the tension in the room.

"Your memories are unnecessary and unwelcome, boy," Fudge shot back dismissively. "Whatever illusion you believe you witnessed, rest assured it was not the return of You-Know-Who."

Harry's jaw clenched in frustration, but before he could respond, Jean-Sebastian intervened with a measured tone. "Minister, with all due respect, dismissing Harry's account without investigation would be a mistake. The Dark Mark is not something to be taken lightly—it signifies a serious threat."

Fudge hesitated, clearly torn between maintaining his stance and acknowledging the gravity of the situation. He glanced around the room, meeting the resolute gazes of those gathered. Finally, he relented slightly. "Very well. We will look into the matter further. But I urge caution in how we proceed."

The discussion continued, tensions simmering beneath the surface as they debated the implications of the Dark Mark's appearance and the potential resurgence of dark forces. Outside, the night pressed on, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror the uncertainty and unease within the manor walls.

"Regardless of whether he has truly returned or not, can't you see the necessity for increased Auror funding and heightened alertness, Cornelius?" Dumbledore countered, his voice unwavering. "There is clearly a force at play attempting to exert influence—the presence of the Dark Mark tonight alone underscores that. It would be wise for us to be cautious and prepare for any eventuality."

"And I have told you repeatedly that such measures are unnecessary," the Minister insisted firmly. "I refuse to contribute to creating public panic."

Fudge stood, casting a disdainful glance around the room, his eyes lingering on Harry with a palpable sense of disregard. Harry, feeling the mutual antipathy, remained indifferent to the Minister's opinion.

"Madam Bones," Fudge continued after a moment, addressing Amelia directly, "you have my authorization to collaborate with the Ambassador's Aurors to investigate this tragedy further. If we can identify and apprehend the perpetrators, all the better. There are enough Aurors to increase patrols if you deem it necessary, but the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's budget is stretched thin, and there are no additional funds available."

"However," he added with a pointed look, "I must reiterate—no announcements are to be made without my explicit consent, particularly regarding any alleged Death Eater activity. If you can provide clear and incontrovertible evidence to the contrary, then the Ministry's stance will adjust accordingly. I regret to say, Mr. Potter, that the testimony of an underage wizard is simply not sufficient."

Harry bristled at the dismissal of his account but remained composed. He knew convincing the Ministry would be an uphill battle, especially without concrete proof. He exchanged a glance with Dumbledore and Jean-Sebastian, silently acknowledging the challenges ahead.

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Understood, Minister. We shall continue our investigations diligently."

With that, the meeting began to draw to a close, the tension in the room palpable as each participant weighed their next steps in the face of an uncertain and potentially dangerous future. Outside, the night enveloped them, its mysteries and dangers lurking just beyond the manor's protective wards.

His contemptuous glance at Harry contradicted his ostensibly conciliatory words. Harry disregarded him—Fudge had repeatedly proven himself beneath notice.

"For now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I'll return home. May I use your Floo, Jean-Sebastian?" Fudge requested, receiving a terse nod from the other wizard. After thanking him, Fudge disappeared through the fireplace.

"That man is becoming more of a liability than ever," Sirius growled, voicing what others might only think.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Madam Bones replied with a smirk at Sirius. "Off the record, Cornelius has been increasingly erratic. His contradictions are getting harder to ignore. He publicly blamed rogue Death Eaters for the Quidditch World Cup incident during Mr. Potter's trial, yet now he refuses to acknowledge their potential continued threat."

She paused thoughtfully before turning to Jean-Sebastian. "If this was indeed an attack orchestrated by You-Know-Who, what was its purpose?"

"It was a warning," Jean-Sebastian stated calmly.

Madam Bones regarded him steadily. "A warning specifically to you, or a broader message to all who oppose him?"

"Both, I suspect," Jean-Sebastian replied evenly.

"I concur with Jean-Sebastian," Dumbledore interjected. "Initially, it appears to be a message directed at him—a suggestion that his support for Harry is perilous. Targeting his Head of Security and his daughter implies that Voldemort aims to demonstrate the vulnerability of his family. Moreover, it serves as a broader warning—no one who opposes Voldemort is beyond his reach."

"And when I meet with Lucius Malfoy, I expect the threats will be far less subtle," Jean-Sebastian added with a grim resolve. "Whether he intended to arrange a meeting or not, he will certainly seize the opportunity."

The room fell into a contemplative silence, each person digesting the implications of Voldemort's brazen actions and considering their own roles in the escalating conflict. Outside, the night air whispered of uncertainty, echoing the shadows that now encroached upon their lives.

Madam Bones paused, her gaze shifting between Harry, Sirius, and the assembled witches and wizards. The room was tense, filled with the weight of uncertainty and the urgency of the situation.

"Mr. Potter," she began again, her voice steady, "your testimony is crucial, but as you rightly noted, belief alone is not sufficient to sway the Ministry or the wider wizarding community." She turned to Sirius, her expression softening slightly. "And Mr. Black, your insights into Pettigrew and your experiences could provide invaluable corroboration."

Sirius nodded, a grim determination settling over his features. "I can attest to what Harry has said," he stated firmly. "Pettigrew betrayed James and Lily. He was alive, hiding as Ron Weasley's pet rat for twelve years."

Madam Bones raised an eyebrow, processing this new information. "These are serious accusations, Mr. Black. Do you have evidence to support this claim?"

Sirius hesitated, then looked directly at Harry. "Harry, the map. Show her the map."

Harry nodded, reaching into his bag and pulling out the Marauder's Map. He tapped it with his wand, causing it to unfurl and display the moving dots that represented every inhabitant of Hogwarts.

"This map belonged to my father, James Potter, and his friends," Harry explained, tracing the lines with his finger. "It shows every person's name within Hogwarts grounds. Except for one: Peter Pettigrew."

Madam Bones leaned forward, scrutinizing the map closely. "Are you saying Pettigrew is alive and here?"

"He's been masquerading as Ron's pet rat, Scabbers," Hermione interjected, her voice urgent. "We found out the truth last year."

Madam Bones glanced at Hermione, then back at Sirius and Harry. "This is troubling indeed. If Pettigrew is alive, it corroborates your claims about You-Know-Who's return."

Harry nodded fervently. "It's all connected. Voldemort used Pettigrew to return, and now he's out there, gaining strength."

Madam Bones sighed heavily, her fingers steepled in front of her as she contemplated the implications. "Very well," she finally said, her tone resigned but determined. "I will convene an emergency session of the Wizengamot to address these revelations. We cannot afford to ignore this threat any longer."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room as the others voiced their support. Madam Bones looked around at the gathered witches and wizards, her expression grave. "We must prepare ourselves for what lies ahead. The return of Lord Voldemort marks a dark time for our world."

The gravity of her words hung in the air, overshadowing the relief that should have accompanied their breakthrough. Harry glanced at Sirius, their eyes meeting briefly in silent acknowledgment of the peril they faced.

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