CHAPTER 41: THE ALBANIAN HUNT
Morning came all too quickly. Harry woke to the dim light of dawn filtering through the tent's flap. He stretched, feeling the stiffness in his muscles from the uncomfortable bunk. Sirius was already up, sitting by the fire with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands.
"Morning," Harry greeted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Morning. Coffee's hot," Sirius replied, nodding towards the kettle on the stove.
Harry poured himself a mug and took a seat beside Sirius. They sipped their coffee in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet of the early morning.
"Ready to scout the area?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah. Just be careful, alright? We don't know what kind of traps or wards he might have set up," Sirius cautioned.
"I will. Keep an eye out here. If I'm not back in two hours, you know what to do," Harry said, finishing his coffee and standing up.
He grabbed his broomstick and stepped outside, the crisp morning air biting at his skin. Mounting the broom, he kicked off the ground and soared into the sky. The forest below spread out like a sea of green and white, the snow covering the trees in a soft blanket.
Harry flew towards the mountains, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of movement. After about twenty minutes, he spotted the cave at the foot of the mountains. He circled high above it, making sure to stay out of sight. From his vantage point, he could see the entrance was partly obscured by snow and rocks.
Satisfied that he had found the right spot, Harry flew back to the camp. He landed softly and entered the tent, finding Sirius pacing nervously.
"Find anything?" Sirius asked.
"Yeah, I found the cave. It's well hidden, but I'm sure that's where he's headed," Harry replied.
"Alright, what's the plan?" Sirius asked, looking more focused now.
"We set up an ambush. We'll hide near the entrance and wait for him. We can't afford to let him get inside," Harry explained.
Sirius nodded. "Let's get ready then."
They gathered their gear and set out towards the cave. Harry led the way, his senses alert for any signs of danger. The snow crunched softly under their feet as they moved through the forest. When they reached the cave, they found a good spot to hide, partially concealed by a large boulder and some thick underbrush.
Dumbledore's brow furrowed as he considered the implications of the information. The movements of these magicals in the Albanian forest were deeply concerning. He had hoped to delay any direct confrontation with Voldemort, but circumstances were pushing his hand.
He paced his office, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. The call from Auror Armend had confirmed his worst fears — Voldemort's followers were closing in. He couldn't afford to let them find him unchecked.
With a sigh, Dumbledore summoned Fawkes, his loyal phoenix, who appeared in a burst of flames. The bird trilled softly, sensing its master's unease.
"Fawkes, my old friend," Dumbledore murmured, stroking the phoenix's golden feathers. "We have a journey ahead of us."
Without further delay, Dumbledore gathered his cloak and wand, preparing to Floo to the Ministry of Magic in Albania. His mind raced with strategies to intercept Voldemort's followers and ensure the safety of both the wizarding world and the precarious balance of power.
As he stepped into the emerald flames and vanished from his office at Hogwarts, Dumbledore's thoughts turned briefly to Florean Fortescue's unexpected call. What could the ice cream parlor owner want, especially at a time like this? It was a puzzle for another day.
For now, his focus was on Albania, on thwarting the Dark Lord's ambitions yet again, and on ensuring that hope remained alive in the face of gathering darkness.
Florean's revelation had sent a chill down Dumbledore's spine. Bellatrix Peverell, once Voldemort's most trusted lieutenant, was now roaming freely with Harry Potter. The implications were troubling, to say the least. Albus knew that Harry's upbringing would significantly influence his future path, and being under Bellatrix's influence could shape him in unexpected ways.
For now, though, Dumbledore had more immediate concerns. He needed to prepare for his journey to Albania to intercept Voldemort's followers and ensure they did not locate their master too soon. But first, there was the matter of the emergency Wizengamot session.
Albus sighed as he conjured his traveling cloak and adjusted the straps on his travel bag. His mind was already calculating the logistical details of attending the session and then departing immediately afterward.
"Always so much to do," he muttered to himself, popping another lemon drop into his mouth. The tangy sweetness did little to alleviate his worries.
The emergency session was crucial. The appointment of a new head for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) was not a decision to be taken lightly, especially in such tumultuous times. Dumbledore knew he had to ensure the right person was chosen, someone capable of leading during these darkening days.
With his preparations underway, Dumbledore paused to glance at the numerous portraits lining his office walls. The former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts looked on with silent wisdom, their painted eyes seeming to understand the weight of his responsibilities.
"Off to Albania, then," Dumbledore murmured, addressing the portraits as if seeking their counsel.
Gathering his resolve, Dumbledore took one last look around his office before Flooing to the Ministry of Magic. The journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was resolved to face them head-on. Voldemort's resurgence could not be allowed to proceed unchecked.
As the emerald flames engulfed him, Dumbledore steeled himself for the trials ahead. The fate of the wizarding world once again rested on his shoulders, and he would do everything in his power to ensure its safety and the protection of young Harry Potter.
As the flames of the Floo Network whisked Dumbledore away to the Ministry of Magic, he felt a momentary disorientation before emerging into the familiar atrium. The hustle and bustle of the Ministry greeted him, echoing with urgent footsteps and hushed conversations.
Straightening his robes, Dumbledore navigated through the crowds with purposeful strides. His arrival did not go unnoticed; whispers and nods followed him as he made his way towards the courtroom where the emergency Wizengamot session was to be held.
The doors to the courtroom swung open as Dumbledore approached, revealing a somber gathering of witches and wizards seated in concentric circles. At the center, the Wizengamot members, including the Chief Warlock, awaited his arrival.
"Ah, Albus Dumbledore," greeted the Chief Warlock, a seasoned witch with steely eyes and a stern countenance. "Thank you for joining us. We are gathered here today to address the vacancy in the position of the head of the DMLE."
Dumbledore nodded gravely, taking his place among the members. The urgency of the situation weighed heavily on him. The DMLE was at the forefront of the Ministry's efforts against dark forces, and its leadership needed to be strong and decisive.
The deliberations commenced, each candidate for the position presenting their qualifications and visions for the department. Dumbledore listened intently, occasionally interjecting with probing questions to gauge their readiness and resolve.
Hours passed in rigorous debate and careful consideration. Finally, a consensus began to emerge among the Wizengamot members. A seasoned Auror, known for her bravery and strategic acumen, emerged as the favored candidate.
"As Chief Warlock, I propose a vote," announced the elder witch, her voice echoing through the chamber. "All those in favor of appointing Madam Eliza Hawthorne as the new head of the DMLE?"
Hands rose in assent, and the decision was made. Dumbledore nodded approvingly, confident in Madam Hawthorne's ability to lead the department during these perilous times.
With the session concluded and the formalities settled, Dumbledore made his way to his office to finalize his own preparations for the journey to Albania. His mind was already turning over plans and contingencies, anticipating the challenges ahead.
In his office, Fawkes awaited him, perched regally on his golden stand. The phoenix trilled softly as Dumbledore approached, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil.
"We have much to do, old friend," Dumbledore murmured, stroking Fawkes's feathers gently. "But together, we will ensure that Voldemort's plans do not come to fruition."
With a renewed sense of determination, Dumbledore gathered his travel essentials and prepared to Floo once more, this time to the edge of Albania where he would begin his vigil and await any sign of Voldemort's presence.
The journey was fraught with uncertainty, but Dumbledore's resolve remained unshakeable. The fate of the wizarding world hung in the balance, and he would not falter in his duty to protect it.
As the emerald flames enveloped him once more, Dumbledore focused his thoughts on the task ahead, ready to confront the darkness that threatened to engulf them all.
Narcissa bit her lip, clearly distraught by her sister's cool demeanor. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded solemnly. "I understand, Bella. I'll leave you be."
With a last, worried glance at Bellatrix, Narcissa turned and walked toward the fireplace. She muttered the incantation, disappearing in a swirl of green flames, leaving Bellatrix alone in the dimly lit sitting room.
Bellatrix sighed heavily, her emotions churning. She sank into an armchair, her thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Narcissa's unexpected visit had stirred up memories and emotions she had tried to bury deep.
"I hope Harry and Sirius are safe," Bellatrix murmured to herself, her fingers absently tracing the spine of the book she had left on the side table.
Despite her outward demeanor, Bellatrix was anxious. She trusted Harry's skills, but the dangers they faced were real. The thought of Sirius being caught in harm's way gnawed at her, despite their often contentious relationship.
Her hand rested on her stomach, where the faint flutter of movement reminded her of the new life growing within. A wave of tenderness washed over her, mingling with the lingering frustrations and worries.
"I should check on little Harry," Bellatrix muttered, pushing herself up from the chair. She climbed the stairs quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping toddler.
Pushing open the door to the guest room, Bellatrix found Harry curled up in his small bed, peaceful and unaware of the turmoil outside. She couldn't help but smile softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.
"He's so much like you," Bellatrix whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet room. "Brave and curious."
She lingered for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Then, with a sigh, she quietly closed the door and returned downstairs.
Settling back into her chair, Bellatrix picked up her book but found her thoughts drifting. The Maiden and the Werewolf lay forgotten in her lap as she stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace.
Minutes turned into hours as she waited, her mind occupied with thoughts of Harry, Sirius, and the uncertain future that lay ahead.
Narcissa's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Return Voldemort to power? But that's… unthinkable."
Bellatrix nodded grimly, her expression clouded with concern. "Yes, Harry believes Crouch Jr. is attempting to revive Voldemort. They're in Albania to intercept him before he can reach his master."
"But why Albania?" Narcissa asked, leaning forward with curiosity.
"Dumbledore suspected Voldemort was hiding there, and it seems Crouch Jr. might be headed to a specific location within the Albanian forest," Bellatrix explained, her voice tinged with frustration. "They're trying to prevent any further steps towards his return."
Narcissa frowned, digesting the information. "And you're okay with Harry being involved in this?"
Bellatrix's lips tightened into a thin line. "I trust Harry's judgment, though I don't like the risks involved. Sirius is with him, and they'll handle it."
"And little Harry?" Narcissa glanced towards the stairs where the young boy slept peacefully.
"He's safe here with me," Bellatrix replied softly, a hint of protectiveness in her tone. "I won't let anything happen to him."
Narcissa nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "You've changed a lot, Bella. Taking care of Harry like this… it's not something I would have expected from you."
Bellatrix sighed, a mixture of emotions flickering across her features. "Life has a way of surprising us, Cissa. We adapt."
There was a moment of silence between them, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. Bellatrix looked at her sister, her expression softened slightly.
"What about you, Cissa?" Bellatrix asked, changing the subject. "How are things with you and Ted?"
Narcissa's face brightened at the mention of her husband. "Oh, things are… well, as good as can be expected. Ted has his hands full with work, and with Dora causing trouble…"
Bellatrix chuckled softly. "Sounds like she takes after her mother."
Narcissa smiled fondly. "Yes, she does."
Their conversation drifted to lighter topics as they caught up on family news and reminisced about their shared past. For a moment, the worries of the outside world seemed distant, replaced by the bond between two sisters finding common ground amidst tumultuous times.
As Narcissa disappeared in the green flames of the Floo Network, Bellatrix let out a sigh, her thoughts turning to the complexities of family and the uncertain future. She rubbed her belly absentmindedly, feeling a flutter of movement that reminded her of the new life growing within.
Walking slowly through the dimly lit corridors of her home, Bellatrix couldn't shake the mix of emotions swirling inside her. The imminent arrival of her own children filled her with both excitement and apprehension. She had always been fierce and driven, but motherhood was an entirely different realm, one that she was navigating with a mixture of determination and trepidation.
Entering the nursery that she had prepared, Bellatrix glanced around at the soft hues and magical creatures adorning the walls. It was a room filled with warmth and anticipation, a stark contrast to the shadows of her past and the uncertainties of the present.
She settled into a rocking chair by the window, gazing out at the moonlit garden beyond. The night air was cool and soothing, a welcome respite from the events of the day. Closing her eyes, Bellatrix let herself relax, focusing on the rhythmic movements of her unborn children.
In the quiet of the nursery, thoughts of Harry and Sirius abroad in Albania drifted through her mind. She trusted Harry's abilities and Sirius's loyalty, but the dangers they faced were undeniable. A pang of worry tightened her chest, quickly replaced by a surge of determination. She would protect her family, no matter the cost.
Hours passed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. Bellatrix remained lost in her thoughts, a mix of anticipation for the future and a lingering unease about the present.
Eventually, exhaustion tugged at her, and she rose from the chair with a sigh. Glancing once more around the nursery, she murmured a soft promise to her unborn children before leaving the room and heading towards her own bed.
As she lay in the darkness, the comforting weight of Sirius's absence beside her was a reminder of the challenges they faced. But in the quiet of the night, with the faint sounds of the house settling around her, Bellatrix found a measure of peace.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but tonight, in the embrace of her home and the love growing within her, Bellatrix felt a glimmer of hope for the future.
Bellatrix held little Harry close, his tears gradually subsiding as he nestled against her. Despite her initial grogginess, her maternal instincts kicked in, soothing him with soft whispers and gentle strokes on his back.
As they lay together in the quiet of the night, Bellatrix couldn't help but marvel at the innocence and vulnerability of the child in her arms. He reminded her so much of Harry, her Harry, and the thought brought a mixture of warmth and longing.
The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Bellatrix watched little Harry's breathing even out as he drifted back to sleep, his small form a comforting weight against her chest.
She couldn't deny the swell of emotions within her—love, protectiveness, and a fierce determination to shield this innocent child from the darkness that lurked beyond their home. It was a role she hadn't expected to embrace so readily, yet here she was, holding him close with a tenderness she hadn't known she possessed.
As sleep began to reclaim her, Bellatrix's thoughts drifted to Harry and Sirius in Albania. She trusted their skills, but the dangers they faced weighed heavily on her mind. A silent prayer for their safety crossed her thoughts before exhaustion finally pulled her into a peaceful slumber.
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