Barty Crouch looked at the interim head of the DMLE, Kingsley Shacklebolt and nodded seriously.

"Minister, this is serious. Dumbledore has sent a Patronus message assuring us that Voldemort is indeed restored, and on his way here with a force of Death Eaters that is far larger than our intelligence said was possible." Kingsley's regal baritone conveyed the urgency of his words.

Barty, so happy that his Dark Lord was restored, and with about three hours left of useful Polyjuice in his flask took a last sip. Merlin but he hated the taste. Remind him to go piss on daddy's tree in revenge. It's petty, but the Dark Lord wants to keep the magical tree for its defensive value and he had enough of his masters punishments for a while.

Barty patted Kingsley on the shoulder. "Yes, well I imagine some of the people doing the intelligence assessments were Voldemort's people. Death Eaters are the elite, the lords of the world. The common rabble who sell each other out for gold, or to conceal some secret vice, they must outnumber sworn Death Eaters about ten to one. Then there are all those little people who hate someone. Werewolves, goblins, vampires, muggleborn, hags, centaurs; there is almost always some group they think needs to be put down just a little harder, punished just a little more to make their dirty little souls happy, and for the promise the Dark Lord will do terrible things to their pet group they will happily sell out everyone they know, love, and incidentally were sworn to defend and serve."

Kingsley looked shocked and offended. "Surely it can't be that bad, Minister."

Barty smiled at Kingsley. "How have you liked the coffee in the Auror ready room in the last few weeks Kingsley?" Barty offered casually.

Kingsley smiled. "It has been a very great improvement. All the lads and lasses wanted me to pass along our thanks. When we heard you were supplying it personally we were all quite pleased."

Barty nodded. "Yes, it made swallowing Amelia Bones arrest so much easier. Made ignoring all those silly rumours about me Mad Eye and Dumbledore kept peddling. Of course, loyalty potions will do that for you."

Shacklebolt blinked, sure that there was something there he should react to, but of late his thoughts seemed to drift oddly when they got near conflict with his superior. He was a simple man, he was happier just doing his job, and defending the people like an Auror should.

Barty smiled and shook Kingsley's hand in both of his. "You have been a good man, a damned fine Auror, and you will be missed. Not by Proudfoot though."

Kingsley was looking confused when the blood boiling curse slammed into the dark skinned Auror, as Auror Proudfoot shot him in the back. Kingsley, even under the loyalty potion reacted with trained reflexes to flick his wand into his hand, but the Minister was holding his hand so tightly he couldn't get it free.

As Kingsley fell to the floor and began spasming, Barty leaned on his desk and drew his own wand.

"It turns out Amelia was right, so was Mad Eye, and even Dumbledore. You arrested your boss on the orders of Barty Crouch Junior, loyalist Death Eater, smuggled out of Azkaban by dear old Dad, and imitating him for months now. Months you and most of the officials in the DMLE have been dosed with loyalty potions. Turns out that you never bothered to investigate housekeeping and cafeteria staff. Turns out, there are rather a lot of staff there less than happy about House Elves taking all their jobs away, or being the reason they had to accept lower and lower wages. Makes them a tad bitter. Great for recruitment though."

Barty rubbed his face. "Still, had to be so careful. Even I don't know how many got enough in them to obey when I give an order that goes totally against their duty. Still, as long as it is situationally reasonable, I think I can make them do enough. Master put a lot of thought into this, and he is rather more clever than any of you lot."

Barty kicked Kingsley, but the Auror was already dead. "Pity. I really wanted you to see how the fall of the Ministry played out, but I couldn't test your loyalty when you had the authority as head of the DMLE to stop the lockdown. It takes the Minister of Magic and Head of the DMLE to lock down the whole Ministry."

Barty turned to Proudfoot. "Proudfoot, my good little minion. How would you like to be head of the DMLE?"

Auror Proudfoot turned to Barty Crouch Junior, confessed Death Eater and smiled. "Yes sir, that would be lovely!"

Barty pointed his finger at him. "By the power invested in me by the wizagamot in that super helpful confidence vote, I now declare you interim DMLE head, since the tragic and unexplained death of your predecessor Kingsley Shacklebolt."

Auror Proudfoot put a foot on the corpse of the man he had just killed, then with wand over his chest announced piously. "He will be missed, but not by me."

The two shared a laugh, then Barty annouced.

"Lock down the Ministry. Close off all Floo access, activate the anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards. Lock down the potions stores, the weapons rooms with the battle staves, cant have anyone but our own people running around with heavy artillery can we?" Barty mused.

"The Dark Lord is running a bit short of hands until we can free the loyal brethren from Azkaban, so we can't have any of the little people we need to run things scampering away. It would take months to pacify otherwise. Best to keep all the little mice inside their holes whien the big bad snake comes calling."

The two of them went to the wall, where a complex formation that took the finest security wizards of the Unspeakables plus Albus Dumbledore and the Hogwarts staff to create stood. Designed after the last war, they were designed to make the Ministry of Magic building into a fortress no one could breech without control of the wards.

Unlike Hogwarts, it couldn't be maintained for long. A week was the upper limit, less if it took major siege damage from powerful attacks. While the wards were up though, no one could enter or leave, save by the will of the Minister of Magic and head of the DMLE.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters were on their way, and the whole of the Ministry of Magic were now locked in a cage Voldemort's most fanatical follower controlled.

- Battle of the Ministry

Voldemort and his Death Eaters descended from the sky like so many falling stars made of darkness, each explosion of midnight defying the bright sun of mid morning as rank upon rank of Death Eater formed up proudly in front of the Ministry.

Voldemort himself raised his wand and shouted "Morsemordre!", the bright green skull and snake covering half the sky in open defiance of the Ministry and its Aurors.

The Aurors and hit wizards who had been out of the Ministry, or tasked with perimeter security were no cowards, nor were they alone. Many who served the Ministry in other departments, or who were simply opposed to the Dark Lord chose to rally in defense of the Ministry of Magic, since Voldemort had announced his intention to attack the night before.

They had no way of knowing Voldemort planned this. He lacked the manpower to hunt down all sources of resistance, and with the losses in his loyal Death Eaters and his lack of time to call in his vampire, werewolf and giant allies in any meaningful numbers, he lacked the manpower to crush scattered resistance.

Until he could bring the Dementors of Azkaban to swell his numbers and cow the population, he needed them to be both leaderless and terrified. He gave them time to bring all the potential resistance leaders to the Ministry to be killed.

The numbers were roughly equal, but that made the slaughter so much more terrible to witness. The Aurors and ministry workers cast their stunners and disarming charms in the opening salvos, to be met with killing curses, and a hundred forms of magical slaughter.

After Aurors and workers began to die, the survivors, and no few veterans of the last war began to fire back with fire and blasting curses, lightning and golems animated out of stone to attack the Death Eaters.

The dead littered the ground, and battle seemed to hang in the balance when Voldemort strode forward. He did not run, he did not dodge, he simply walked.

A master of transfiguration and charms both, he forged great shields of iron that he set orbiting himself like planets around a dark star, sweeping in to block spells, even as a golden halo of protego maxima surrounded himself. Maintaining those spells simultaneously would be a burden to most wizards on their own, but Voldemort simply laughed softly, glorying in the power that was his again.

Then his wand began to dance, and he began to hiss in parselmagic. Hissing a longer and far darker form of the traditional Fiendfire charm, he summoned a living green serpent of flame the size of a train. Demonic faces howled and gibbered from each scale of green flame, and the demonic construct slithered forward to devour the defenders spells, and then lives.

He was mortal again, and fear filled him. Voldemort had been forged of rage and hatred born from fear and helplessness so long ago, so his rage and hate fed on that fear and drove him into battle with a ferocity he had not shown when he knew himself immortal. Those who thought they knew his fury looked upon his second coming and trembled.

Maintaining his defenses as the desperate Auorors and hit wizards took insane risks to reach and destroy him to stop the fiendfire from destroying them all, Voldemort freed his Death Eaters to attack at their leisure, without worrying about their own defense.

In the end, it took minutes for the external defenses to fall.

Voldemort touched his wand to his throat and in a Sonorus that shook the whole of Wizarding London his voice echoed from every stone.

"Surrender the Ministry, submit yourself to my rule and you may yet no mercy. Resist me and my loyal Death Eaters and you can only die.

Rejoice, wizarding Britain, the long slow decline of wizarding kind under the weak and self-serving ministry and lords is over. The return to greatness, the return to the dominion of the witch and wizard over all lesser beings begins today."

The doors of the Ministry swung open, and a phalanx of Aurors surrounding the last Minister of Magic marched out. The Minister, before the watching eyes of the crowds of witches and wizards who looked on from every street, who hung on their brooms in the sky above, and scryed with every magics known to wizard kind bore witness.

The Minister of Magic held his wand on his two open palms, and sank to his knees before Voldemort. At his gesture, the remaining Aurors also placed their wands upon their palms and knelt down. Barty Crouch Junior, in his last act imitating his father, offered the surrender of the British Ministry.

"I Bartimous Crouch, Minister of Magic, surrender my forces, my authority and myself to your judgement and rule. Ave Voldemort Imperius. Hail Voldemort, Dark Lord of Britain!"

The massed workers crowding the entry way looked on in horror, to see the Minister and Aurors surrendering. While the shock and fear held them, no one noticed who began clapping first. Soon it spread, as Voldemort always had sympathizers. Then it spread further, as fear to be seen as opposing the Dark Lord filled the room. Then everyone began looking at those who were not clapping and with tears in their eyes, the terrified loyalists began to clap. There was no one left to defend them. Voldemort had taken the Ministry.

Voldemort strode into the Ministry, and the Death Eaters pushed through the kneeling Aurors with the contempt of conquerors. It had not been total success of course. Some Aurors had not been potioned enough to agree to the surrender, some had fought their brethren and been killed. Some had hidden until the wards fell and escaped, but there were no groups, nor leaders attempting to form them. Those who would not bend the knee and survived the fall thought only of escape, for themselves and their families.

-Hogwarts

Harry Potter was getting patched up by Madame Pomfrey as his friends and family tried to keep him from coming apart after Cedric's death.

"Cedric died for nothing, for a fake battle." Harry raged, Noodle for once wrapping him tight as he felt his Speaker's distress and emotions that Noodle could feel but not really understand.

Sirius tried to make eye contact, but Harry turned his tear filled face away, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes. Sirius talked softly.

"It wasn't a fake. Voldemort had to believe it was a real battle, that we were really trying to kill him, or he would not have seen escaping as a victory. We could not possibly get enough strength there to matter, he had to choose to flee because if he stayed to fight, we would lose all of us." Sirius said with the patience of a veteran explaining war to a boy.

"I shouldn't have agreed to bring them! I should have faced him alone." Harry argued.

Griphook snarled and grabbed his chin, forcing Harry to look at him.

"You would have died, and lost. Hermione and Noodle needed Voldemort to battle long enough to reach Voldemort's familiar, and then to flee or they would be lost too. Hermione, Noodle, and you all lost, with the world seeing that Voldemort really cannot be fought.

This was a battle, but if you died, and the world got to see Voldemort as unbeatable, it would have been the whole war. Our win was you surviving, and the last Horcrux dying. Now we can fight, now we can go to war."

Harry looked at his father and whispered. "Cedric didn't have to die."

Fleur Delacour had enough and stepped to face Harry.

"Cedric Diggory was a champion, no? Hogwarts champion. You are a Hogwarts student, should he stand back and watch you get killed and do nothing? I am Beauxbaton champion, and I chose to join you knowing your Dark Lord was waiting, I knew that we would be in a fight to the death and I knew my place as a champion was in that battle.

Do you think Cedric a coward? Do you think him weak? No. Cedric chose to be in that fight, and when you had shown the whole world that you could stand against Voldemort, could even kill him, then Cedric chose to save you from Voldemort." Fleur said, her voice rising in anger that reached Harry the way softer words had not.

Krum finally spoke, making Harry look at him.

"Cedric didn't choose to die. He chose to fight. He died in the fight. He isn't a victim, he isn't a sacrifice. He was a warrior, he marched to the sounds of battle, to the sides of his comrades, and saved one of them from death. Do not steal his victory so you can make it your defeat.

He fell in victory. Don't cheapen it." Victor growled, and Harry'[s head snapped up. Meeting the Durmstrang champions eyes he nodded at last.

Dumbledore strode into the medical bay with a thunderous expression. He gripped the elder wand with white knuckles, his inability to leave Hogwarts was eating at his self-control like so much poison. He was more powerful than ever, and more helpless.

Behind the Headmaster, the four heads of House trailed after, each face a study in worry.

"When will you take your people to the Ministry and face Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked

Harry looked up, meeting Griphook, then Sirius, Hermione, Neville, Milicent and then Noodle's eyes before turning to face the Headmaster.

"We won't. That was your war, and you lost. I have been fighting my war since before I got my wand. No stunners, no second chances, no prophesies and shining heroes. We have been taking away everything Voldemort needs to win his war. We took his influence in the wizagamot, his control of the economy, we took his allies, we took his funding, we cut out his control inside every place we could, found and killed every Death Eater we could reach.

We took away every possible way to fight his war in the shadows, dragged him into the light and made him commit all his forces to attack the Ministry. There is literally only once place in all of Britain that he is strong right now, and your idea is to go there and get slaughtered."

Harry sneered at Dumbledore. "And I used to wonder how I ended up an orphan. My parents actually listened to you? This is why they died, this is how you lost. Only my mother was smart enough to defy you and him both. Only my mother was smart enough to steal me another family, a goblin family, to make sure I was raised a nasty little killer, not a good little hero."

Harry looked over at Griphook who smiled back with entirely too many teeth, proud to have raised a nasty little killer, who just might live to come home again, rather than a nice heroic sacrifice.

Harry continued. "No professor. I am not taking my forces to the Ministry, I am taking them to win the war."

Dumbledore looked confused. "Where? Voldemort is at the Ministry."

Milicent laughed, then shook her finger at Harry. "Harry, that is brilliant. Almost Slytherin, the idea almost has to be Noodles."

Neville was nodding. "Yeah, it makes sense. Honestly, Millie should get at least half the credit for it." Which comment made the Slytherin beater actually blush and offer Neville a little half bow.

Dumbledore looked confused, but both Professor Sprout and Flitwick got it. "Merlin's beard!" Flitwick gasped.

Hermione had enough of waiting for people to clue in. "We are taking Azkaban, obviously. We take away the Dementors, clean up any Death Eaters Voldemort might want back, and just by way of an aside, free a bunch of loyalist DMLE Aurors taken with Amelia Bones. Also, the Weasley twins would prank us cross-eyed if we left their dad in prison."

Minerva McGonagall found her voice first. "You can't take Azkaban! "

Harry looked at her curiously. "Why not? I want it, and since the Ministry surrendered to Voldemort it is now legal for me to take it."

Dumbledore finally exploded. "You cannot be serious, there are hundreds of Dementors at Azkaban. All the Aurors together couldn't take it by force."

Harry grinned. "Of course I am not Sirius," Harry pointed at his dogfather. "That is his job. It's thousands of Dementors by the way, not hundreds. Honestly, what kind of idiot agrees to feed them wizards and witches for hundreds of years without bothering to figure out how Dementors breed?"

Professor Sprout nodded. "You will need the whole clan and coven."

Sirius held up a hand. "And the kids, BG and the crew if you want to have any chance."

Filius Flitwick had given up on objecting to the suicide mission, and switched over to practical considerations. "How exactly are you going to assault Azkaban. It has only the one apparation point, and it is designed for small numbers specifically to prevent assault."

Victor Krum snorted. "I have ship. Big thing, sitting in the lake. What I don't have is Headmaster who can tell me I can't use it."

Neville looked up. "We are stealing a ship? We get to be pirates!?"

Sirius burst out laughing. "Bloody hell Neville, that is your bright side?"

Milicent leaned over and ruffled his hair. "My little Hufflepuff is growing up so fast. First a harem, now a pirate, I am so proud."