Chapter 23: Word is Out
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You-Know-Who Dead: Death Eaters Arrested. That was the headline that blared across the Daily Prophet the next morning. The paper was delivered to everyone in the United Kingdom wizarding world. It landed in the breakfast of many wizards and witches. A great many people were surprised by the headlines, since they didn't even know the Dark Lord was back.
Or if they believed Dumbledore, they thought that Harry Potter was supposed to save them, and this paper said that Sirius Black did. That was shocking. Who knew Black had it in him? He was from a Dark family and most of his family were in Azkaban or died as Death Eaters.
Everyone in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Witchcraft and Wizardry was reading it and were stunned at the headlines, but not quite as much as they should have been because they had been listening to Harry Potter brag about it for the last few days. They didn't believe him, but they were desensitized.
"See, I told you," said Harry to Hermione as they ate their breakfast. Hermione was eating her usual oatmeal and fruit, while Harry was eating a full English. He was quite hungry this morning and wanted to fill up. He was still growing from his time in the grey space.
"I believed you the first time," said Hermione primly, upset that he was doing the whole 'told you so' routine.
"So did I," said Neville, who was still on his fruit diet. He had lost quite a few pounds and was looking quite attractive and getting quite a few looks from some of his female peers. Not that he noticed, he was still thinking of himself as that chubby, clumsy kid.
"Now, hopefully everybody else will," said Harry, looking at everyone reading the Prophet and glancing at him with wide eyes. He had been saying it for days now, but they had only been speculating that he was trying to get attention again. Now they would have to eat crow again. When were they ever going to learn? He was going to be so happy to be shot of this place.
"I don't think Dumbledore does," said Hermione, looking up at the Head Table. The old man was strangling the newspaper. His face was passive, but his good hand had a death grip on the paper.
"No, he doesn't," said Harry, looking and seeing the headmaster upset that the newspaper was spouting things he didn't believe. "He's already told me that he thinks that Voldemort is still alive. Or will be back, or whatever." The old man really looked put out. His eyes were reading the news like it was lying to him. There was a frown forming on his lips, but he was doing an admirable job of holding it back.
"Why does he think that?" asked Hermione, a wrinkle on her brow. While she had lost faith in the old man, she thought he was smarter than that.
"Because he's an idiot," said Harry.
"Harry, don't say things like that about the headmaster," said Hermione, though there was no heat behind it.
"Well, he is. He keeps going on and on about this stupid prophecy that is already debunked because Sirius killed Voldemort. If there were any truth in that damn prophecy, then I'd still be out there trying to fight for my life," the Boy-Who-Lived stated, shoving some eggs in his mouth a bit firmer than necessary. He munched on them and swallowed just so he didn't have to say anymore.
"Too right," said Neville.
"I suppose," said Hermione.
"Think you're smart? Do you, Potter?" said Nott as he came up behind Harry. He had taken the place of Draco since the other boy had started learning the new magic from Harry.
They had been doing it in the Room of Requirements on the downlow. Only once or twice a week, but Draco was coming along rather well. He had learned to draw up fire, and push and pull things with his mind. They had gotten the vows out of the way first thing.
"Why? I had nothing to do with it," said Harry, shocked that he was getting any flak from this. It said quite clearly that he had nothing to do with it. "I've been here this entire time. Didn't you read the paper? It said it was Sirius who did it." He picked up the paper and showed him the column that quoted Sirius's name. "See Sirius Black, not Harry Potter."
"He's your godfather, isn't he? Black will get his," Theodore stated, grabbing the paper and tearing it apart like it would make the words false.
"I'd like to see you try that," Harry said with a chuckle, knowing that Sirius knew more magic than Nott ever would.
"I'm not afraid of him," Nott stated, taking the shredded newspaper and throwing it in Harry's face.
It rained down on the trio and just landed on the floor. Hermione brushed it out of her hair, but other than that she did nothing. Neville got up and stood there with his wand ready. Seeing that, Hermione stood too.
Harry slowly stood and got in Nott's comfort zone. "I suggest you toddle along back to the Slytherin table. My godfather can protect himself. You, however, are coming perilously close to pissing me off," he said, poking his finger in the other boy's chest.
Nott just sneered at him and looked him up and down. He stood a good half a head above Harry. "I'm not afraid of you, Potter. I can protect myself," he stated, looking down his nose at the smaller teen. He brushed Harry's hand away from his chest and pushed him back a bit.
Harry didn't back down though. He lifted his head and looked the other teen straight in the eye and said, "Your Dark Lord is dead. Your father is in prison. You are not strong enough to protect yourself. I, however, am. I wouldn't push me if I were you, Theodore Nott." He then shoved the boy with his magic and made him slide back about a foot.
Nott stopped sliding and looked shocked for a second then stared at Harry. "You're not as tough as you think you are, Potter. I was inducted into the ranks of the Death Eaters," he said as he gathered his wits about him. He did wonder how he had been moved, but he couldn't lose face in front of the school.
"Oh, I'm scared," Harry said, making afraid motions with his hands. "All of them are in prison. I'm not." He laughed and all of the Gryffindor Table laughed with him. He could see the teachers were starting to take notice and thought 'it was about time.'
"They are not all in prison. They only caught half of them," the other teen stated, like that made a difference.
"And yet here I still stand. Free as a bird, as does my godfather and all the Order of the Phoenix. None of them are dead. Where is your so-called Death Eaters now?" Harry asked, looking around in a faux frightened way. Then he straightened up and said, "I guess they aren't here."
"They'll get out, you just wait and see."
"You seem to fail to see the pecking order of this situation, Nott. You're the bad guys. Bad guys go to prison."
"No, we rule supreme."
"Have you ever read a history book? Ever? In no scenario in history has the bad guys won," Harry said, looking at him as if he was simple. He wasn't being completely honest. There were many times in history where the evil ones ruled for a long time, but they were eventually taken down.
"Yes, there have been. There have been rulers that have ruled for a long time. They just died on their thrones. History just doesn't write about them as completely as they write about the good guys, because they don't want you to know that the bad guys have won," Theodore debated, having read the same history books as Harry and probably some that Harry had never been privy too. He was from a Dark family after all.
"Name one. One that we all might know," Harry said, thinking he might pull one out of his arse that they had never heard of.
"Genghis Khan."
"I'm surprised you know a muggle. And half of the people in this room have never heard of him. And he only ruled for eleven years. Pretty much like your Dark Lord. Then he died, again like your Dark Lord. Bad guys never rule for long," Harry pointed out. How he knew these little details was besides the point. He just happened to like Genghis Khan in primary. The man was a fascinating character to a kid. Now how Nott knew about him, that is the question.
"Bugger off, Potter. His values lasted over 150 years, just like ours will."
"Not if I have a say in it. Stroll along, Nott, before I have you arrested for being a Death Eater. Here come the teachers," he warned, seeing McGonagall coming from the Head Table. They had been at this for over five minutes and now she was coming. Bully for her.
"Mark my words, Potter. Purebloods will continue to rule," Theodore stated and then he twirled and left.
"He's always such an unpleasant fellow," Hermione stated, sitting back to her now cold oatmeal. She heated it up with her hand and started eating it again.
"Yeah, but he's right. Unless things change, the purebloods will continue to rule," Harry said, doing the same to his breakfast. No one noticed they were heating their breakfast with their hands. They just assumed they were using their wands or eating it cold. Some even made faces at them thinking that.
"What can we do?" she asked, a bit of a whinge in her tone.
"What we've been doing, spread the word of truth and be kind," Harry said, knowing that he was going to spread more than words. He was going to use his money and his influence to spread change.
Hphphp
Later that day, Dumbledore was in Fudge's office talking to Cornelius. "Cornelius, my boy, what can we do to get Snape out of prison?" He was desperate. He was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. Only Snape could save him. He had gone to Poppy, and St. Mungo's, but they could do nothing for him. He had asked Horace, but the man didn't know the potion to stop the Withering Curse. The other potions master was good, but he didn't dally as far into the Dark Arts as Severus.
"Get Snape out? What of Lucius?" Fudge said, slamming his fist on his desk. He could care less about the blasted potions master. He needed his gold. Without Lucius he was going broke. He had bills he had to pay and no money to pay them with. Now that his bribes had stopped, he was fighting off bill collectors by the minute.
"Yes, yes. I mean get both of them out," the headmaster said, making placating gestures with his good hand. He knew it was futile; the Death Eaters were doomed. He would love to see them redeemed, but he knew that it was too late for them. They had been here too long.
"I'm not sure what we can do. Amelia got them both talking under Veritaserum," the minister whinged. He had gotten the parchments this morning. The questioning had been comprehensive. She hadn't missed a thing, even covering things from even the last war. How she got around the pureblood laws was beyond him, but she had.
"Severus did not incriminate himself, I'm sure of it," Albus said, confident that his spy was better than that. The man was a master Occlumens.
Fudge put his head on his desk and banged it. He was at his wits end. "But Lucius did," he said to the desk. "He told him that he was a Death Eater and that he worked for the Dark Lord, and that he had been a Death Eater in the last war, and that he had bribed his way out of prison time. I don't know what to do." He lifted his head and looked at the headmaster like he had the answers. He usually did, he was the man who got everyone out of a tight mess.
"Alas, I do not think there is anything we can do for Mr. Malfoy, or his cohorts," the headmaster said, stroking his beard in a wise manner. Truth be told he was glad of it. He was dying and didn't want Mr. Malfoy out of prison. He didn't want him dead, but free, that was a different story. If he wasn't around to keep him in line, then he didn't want him free. The man was a thorn in his side with Hogwarts, and he'd see it a pureblood school if there was no one to rein him in.
"But if he goes to prison, that looks bad on me," said Cornelius, still whinging. This time he sounded like a pitiful boy.
"Well, we can play it that he had you duped. Many ministers before you have been played the same way, there is no shame in it," Albus tried to play it off. "Even the prior minister was taken in by the man," he pointed out.
"That still makes me look like a weak-minded minister," Fudge said, not liking the sound of that at all. He wanted to be remembered as a strong minister who stopped the war. Not that that was going to happen. Everyone knew he was on the take from Malfoy.
"Better a weak-minded minister than somebody who's taking the pay of a Death Eater," Dumbledore stated, giving him a look. The one that said that he knew better than the person he was talking to.
"I suppose," Fudge conceded with ill grace. He would drop it for now, but he was going to do something to make him look good before this was over. "But what are we going to do about your Snape?" He changed the subject to the other one, hoping to divert from his not-so-evil plot.
"We must get him out of there. He is the only one who can make the potion that is saving my life," Albus said, holding up his dead hand.
"How much time do you have without that potion?" Cornelius looked at the dead hand with disdain. He didn't like the looks of it at all. It looked like a mummy's hand without the wrappings.
"Less than a week."
"How can you be so sure?"
"The Withering Curse has spread its way up my arm and is almost to my chest," Dumbledore said, holding open the neck of his robes to show the black veins on his neck. They were creeping close to his chin, and it looked like someone had drawn dark lines all up and down his neck with a black marker.
"Blast and damnation," Fudge said in shock. He didn't know what he'd do without Dumbledore. First Lucius, and now Dumbledore. Who was going to advise him? He didn't even have Dolores to help him through his day. She was still in a coma that they didn't think she'd ever wake from. One more thing that he was being blamed for.
"Yes, we must get him out. Do you not see that this is imperative?" the headmaster said, dropping his robes back into place. He was getting weaker by the day and there wasn't much time for him. It had taken a lot of energy for him to get here today, and it would take more for him to survive the week.
"I will see what I can do, but Amelia is not one to be trifled with. You say he was a spy; do you have proof of this?" Cornelius asked, hoping the other man had the solution to his problem. It wouldn't do to just have his word. Parchmentwork, or something that proved the man spied for him. Not that such like that was left around, but he was hopeful that there was something.
"Is my word not enough?" the old man said, shocked that he wasn't believed on his word alone.
Cornelius was already shaking his head. "No, your word is not enough," he said in a firm tone. "It was last time, but you have gone down in popularity since then." It was true too. The headmaster had lost a lot of faith with the people with his boasting that the Dark Lord was back, and now with him spouting that he was still not dead. People were calling him a fear monger. True, he had spoken the truth the first time, but he just wouldn't let it go.
Harry Potter said the man was dead, and he had proof. Sirius Black said the same. Everyone that was there backs them. But Dumbledore swears that it is not true. And he solely bases this on a prophecy. Most people don't believe in the words of fate. People were not sure what to believe, but they were mostly leaning towards the words of Harry Potter. He was more believable. Plus, he had more people backing him.
"Is the word of my people enough?" Albus asked, hoping that it would tip the balance.
"It might be, but we'd have to take it in front of the Wizengamot. I'm not sure we have that much time," Fudge said, looking at him with great sympathy.
"Can we get her to have him make the potion for me?" Dumbledore asked. He was desperate for something to work in his favor. Nothing had recently. Everything had turned in Harry's favor and he was tired of it.
"I'm sure we can ask," Fudge said sympathetically. He was already reaching for the rune to call his secretary.
"Can you call her to the office?"
"Let me do that." With that, he called his secretary and had her call Amelia to his office.
It took a few minutes and Bones appeared. She looked put out that she was being summoned when she had so much work to do. "What can I do for you, Minister?" Amelia said when she came in. She saw the headmaster there and already knew she wasn't going to like what was going to be asked of her. She knew that it was coming up, but this put the nail in that coffin.
"Dumbledore is dying, and he needs Snape to make the potion for him," Fudge said, not leading up to it, just diving right in. He was hoping that would put him in her favor. Maybe she'd let him talk to Lucius. He could get some more gold out of the man.
"I don't know. He's in Azkaban right now. He's a known terrorist," Amelia said, taking a seat and looking at the headmaster's shriveled hand. She knew he was dying, but she didn't know it was this quickly. Alastor had told her that Snape had slowed it down, but she didn't know it was an ongoing thing.
"But he was a spy. How many times do I have to say this?" Albus stated, sitting up to his full height. "He was working for me," he reiterated.
"But a spy for which side? I have it on record that you say he was a spy for your side. I also have it on record that the Death Eaters say he was a spy for their side. I don't know the truth," she stated, making a weighing motion with both of her hands. "He tells me he was a spy for you, but you are the winning side, so of course he's going to say that," she stated. She was sure it was for Dumbledore's side, but the man would see his day in court. She couldn't just let him go.
"He was a spy from my side. He was supposed to say he was spying for their side," Albus said, dismissing her evidence to the contrary. Why wouldn't anyone just do what they were supposed to do and just simply listen to him.
"How long do you have to live?" Amelia asked, putting aside the argument for another day. It will be argued in court where it belongs. Of course, if Albus doesn't live that long…
"Less than a week if I don't get the potion."
"And he was the only one who could make it for you?" she asked, worried for him. She needed him to testify. Not that she wanted him dead, but she really needed him in court.
"He's the only one that I know of on this continent," he stated, looking forlorn. He looked like his 114 years of age. Normally he didn't look that old, but he looked it right now.
"I will see what I can do about just getting him the ingredients and having him make it in Azkaban, but he is not leaving that prison," she stated, getting up and looking around the room as if seeing if there were anything else that needed her attention. She knew this was going to happen, or something similar. Snape was just too important. He was the youngest potions master for a reason.
"Thank you, Amelia," Albus said sincerely.
Amelia went to the door and stopped there and looked at him. "Don't thank me yet," she said, looking at him with a firm look. "You may not still live to see another month. I need a list of ingredients, and you need to pay for them. I don't have the budget for that," she said, shooting a glare at the minister. She didn't want him to think she was doing him a favor, but she didn't want him to think she was going to let him die either.
"Of course." Albus got his purse and gave her some coins. "You can get the list from Severus," he stated.
"Let me go and see what I can do." With that, she left the office to go to Azkaban, one of her least favorite places to visit.
It didn't take long for Snape to agree. He was already in minimum security, where there are no Dementors. He would work on the potion and save the headmaster's life. He and the other Death Eaters were there until there trial so that they would maintain their sanity. It wasn't until they were convicted that they would move to maximum security.
If things went well for Snape, he would be free. If not, well, he might stay in minimum security and live out his life brewing potions. If they went too badly, he would go with the rest of the Death Eaters to maximum security.
Who knows.