HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS!
Azkaban Prison razed to the ground!
Bellatrix Lestrange escapes!
By: Rita Skeeter
Chaos erupted in the Wizengamot today when Minister James Potter called for an emergency session, with only a few reporters allowed to attend, including this reporter. Once the session had begun, Minister Potter quickly rose to his feet and proclaimed that the Wizarding World's most hated enemy had returned and had the previous night attacked Azkaban Prison in an attempt to free his most loyal supporters. Naturally, once order was restored, calls rang out from all three factions demanding answers as to how this was possible; as most are aware, the Dark Lord was thought gone for good following his defeat at the hands of Minister Potter over a decade ago, in which the Dark Lord attempted to murder Minister Potter's youngest child.

Minister Potter then called for several Aurors who were present at what is being called "The Battle of Azkaban" and had them provide testimony as well as their memories of the event; at the end of these memories, it was obvious beyond all doubt that the veracity of Minister Potter's words had been proven empirically, much to the horror of all present, this reporter included.

Almost immediately, calls came from the Dark Faction for James Potter's dismissal from office, for not only allowing the Dark Lord to escape with his most valuable follower (for more information on Bellatrix 'The Angel of Death' Lestrange, turn to page 2) but also for the incredibly controversial order that Minister Potter gave during the battle. According to eye-witness testimony given to the Wizengamot by the Aurors that participated in the battle, Minister Potter ordered his men to "Kill the prisoners of Azkaban!"

You read that correctly, my dear readers; that was not a histrionic over-exaggeration, nor was it a discrepancy on the part of this reporter. According to both eye-witness testimony and from James Potter's own mouth, he ordered the prisoners killed when it became apparent that the Dark Lord was freeing them in order to win through a battle of attrition by overwhelming Minister Potter's already small force with the very prisoner's they were in charge of guarding. This extremely controversial order has caused many in the Wizengamot to view Minister Potter in a far different light than before, and many in the Dark Faction called for his immediate arrest and imprisonment for slaughtering their friends and family. Even Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Light Faction and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, called for James Potter to be censored for such an abhorrent act, to the surprise of many.

When Minister Potter was finally allowed to speak in his defense, he gave a rousing, heartfelt speech reminding everyone how horrible the last war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named truly was, and how in giving such an order, even as it disgusted him to his very being, he was doing so to stop such a war from ever happening again. So magnificent and rousing was the Minister's speech that when he finished and retook his seat, the hall echoed for several moments, and this reporter is not ashamed to admit that she too felt her heart swell as James Potter boldly proclaimed, "England will never again bow to a Dark Lord, nor to his supporters who hide behind their gold, while making widows and orphans out of all those they deem inferior!" (To read Minister Potter's full speech, turn to page 3.)

To the surprise of all, it would appear that Minister Potter's detractors pale in comparison to his supporters, and an outstanding margin quickly denied the vote to have Minister Potter formerly charged. Once that farce of a vote was complete, Minister Potter declared that England would now be considered in a state of war, and that he was giving his Aurors executive powers to kill on sight any wizard or witch found wearing Death Eater robes; this declaration received near equal support and hate as the hall once again echoed with both cheers and boos. Furthermore, Minister Potter declared that he was placing a 500,000-galleon bounty on the head of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, with an additional 100,000 galleon bounty on the head of Bellatrix Lestrange, dead or alive.

Minister Potter's next words seemed to silence even his most hated detractors and brought home the seriousness of what was to come: "Make no mistake, fellow members of the Wizengamot, you are all dealing with a for less merciful Minister than Fudge. Those here today who seek to aid the Dark Lord will find themselves executed as traitors to their country, no matter how much gold they claim nor how venerated their family name. There will be no middle ground this time. You are either for the citizens of the Wizarding World or for the Dark Lord.

Make your choice, but know that if you choose wrong, you will be shown the same mercy that the Dark Lord has shown his victims, for foolish and naïve ideas like 'stunning and imprisonment' will not be used this time."
At the end of his speech, this reporter noticed that Minister Potter was glaring directly at Albus Dumbledore, which makes me wonder if there is bad blood there that we are unaware of. Afterwards, this reporter went out into the street to see how the citizens felt about the things that their Minister has done as well as his words towards those in the Wizengamot who may have 'pro-Death Eater sympathies.'

To this reporters surprise, the population seems almost equally split regarding the Minister, with some calling him "A breath of fresh air to an otherwise corrupt government," while others are accusing him of "Going beyond the bounds of his office," and "Behaving like a military dictator!"
But whether you hate him or love him, this reporter will continue to bring you all the freshest news regarding not only the Wizengamot, but also with the upcoming war; may Merlin protect us all.
XXXX
James glared down at the newspaper as he reread the front page for what seemed like the fifth time; with a weary sigh, he threw the paper onto his desk and ran a tired hand across his face as he closed his eyes and reveled in the silence. It was nearly nine o'clock, and most had gone home for the night; Moody and Sirius were standing guard outside his door as they usually did, giving James a small reprieve from the constant stream of visitors and sycophants that had bombarded him the last few days, and James couldn't help but sigh happily as the blessed sound of silence filled his ears.

Had it really been a week since Azkaban? It felt like more, much more, and James couldn't help but let his mind wander to everything that had happened since then; the Wizengamot had split almost down the middle since its last session, with some calling James a 'dictator-in the making,' while others lauded him with honors for being 'a true leader.'

The population too seemed split almost equally, and while James' popularity was still the highest of any sitting Minister in the last century, it had dropped slightly since news of the battle had been released. Some were calling him a dictator, and that he was going beyond what his office allowed and should be censored for it. Many more however, especially those that remembered the horrors that Voldemort had brought to their world during the first war, rallied behind James and were calling him their 'Minister General,' a term that had made Sirius laugh himself silly as James groaned.

A sudden 'pop' made James turn his head to the office fireplace and he felt comfort as he stared into the dancing flames, even as his mind raced with everything that had happened in the last week since he had declared England at war. Voldemort had yet to make another move since he fled from Azkaban, no doubt due to the terrible losses he had taken; the tally had come back a few days ago and James couldn't help but smile when he saw that Voldemort had lost nearly two dozen followers, as well as nearly twenty werewolves.

That feeling was quickly swept away by a wave of guilt when James next saw the tally of nearly two hundred-and-fifty prisoners who had also been killed during the battle. James still remembered falling into Lily's arms after the battle and sobbing into her chest as he begged her to forgive him, feeling almost positive that she would call him a monster and leave him for what he had done, no doubt taking the kids with her. Instead, she had smacked him round the head for such idiotic notions and held him tight to her as she repeatedly assured him that she wasn't going anywhere, and that she did not see him as a monster but as a man who had been forced to make a terrible, yet necessary decision.

It had been Lily that had kept James from going off the deep end the following days of the battle, keeping him grounded and reminding him why he was fighting, why they must all keep fighting; to make a world for their children where they could finally be free from the terrors and idiotic notions of 'blood-purity' of the past.

Turning back away from the fire, James' eyes landed on a letter that was sitting innocuously on his desk, the writing swirling elegantly, and he felt his temper spike again as he thought about who had sent it. James and Dumbledore had had a terrible fight the night after the emergency session of the Wizengamot, and Sirius had to actually hold James back at one point from physically attacking the old man. As James glared at the letter, inviting him to attend the upcoming meeting with 'The Order of the Phoenix,' his thoughts ran back to the last meeting he and Dumbledore had.

:FLASHBACK:
Dumbledore had come to James' office the day after the emergency session of the Wizengamot, all but demanding the James' secretary let him in when she told Dumbledore that James was in the middle of a meeting.
Stepping into the office, Dumbledore saw James looking over a map that sat unrolled upon his desk, Frank Longbottom's finger pointing at something, while his face turned in surprise to Dumbledore; behind James, Sirius and Mad-Eye were standing guard, their hands resting on their wands at the sudden intrusion. Seeing who it was, both men slowly relaxed and the tension of the office relaxed again, though only just.

"That'll be all, Frank," James said simply, "Make sure your Aurors are ready at a moment's notice."
"They will be," Frank nodded, "Mad-Eye's been drilling them hard. Whatever Voldemort has planned, we'll be ready for him."
Without another word, Frank gathered up the map he'd been pointing at and walked out of the office, offering a quick nod at Dumbledore as he passed, which was returned by the headmaster.

"Good morning, Professor," James said softly, once Frank was gone, "I wasn't aware that we had a meeting scheduled."
"We do not," Dumbledore replied, "But I felt that current events required us to speak."
"Do they? And what would we speak about? How about we start with you nearly having me sacked from office!"

Dumbledore sighed wearily at that and slowly made his way to the chair opposite James' desk, sinking into it with all the strength of a tired old man.
"I only did what I thought was right, James…"

"And you're saying I did otherwise?" James demanded in a hurt tone,

"You killed over two hundred people, my boy," Dumbledore replied sadly, "And destroyed Azkaban prison, releasing the Dementors onto an unsuspecting populace. Merlin knows how many are in danger now…"

"The Aurors are already rounding them up as we speak," James clapped back, "They're being housed in the bowels of the Ministry until we can decide what to do with them. And, while I truly hate the fact that I was forced to give the order to kill Azkaban's prisoners, I had no choice in order to save my Auror's lives and try to stop Voldemort. Something that I ultimately failed to do, in the end. So, what's your next accusation?"

Dumbledore stared silently at his one-time student, looking far older than he had ever looked before; finally, after a moment of silence, Dumbledore released a sad and weary sigh, his shoulders slumping.
"I'm worried about you, James… Your decisions as of late are leaving me most distressed, and I'm worried about where the path you're on will lead you… You slaughtered almost a hundred werewolves…"

"Which were in the process of killing innocent children," James growled back,
"You killed Fudge, when you could have just ended the duel with a stunner," Dumbledore added, making James' brow twitch angrily.
"After he murdered two Ministry employees, as well as orchestrated the attack on Hogsmeade!" James snapped back, his fists gripping the arms of his chair, tight.

"And now, you've killed hundreds of people, people who could have been redeemed and brought back into the light. Any chance those poor souls had of ever finding forgiveness for their sins and attaining redemption is forever gone…"
"Oh, don't give me that, Dumbledore!" Mad-Eye spat suddenly, "We all know that the ones locked up there were the scum of our world and deserved what they got!"

"By what right do you think so?" Dumbledore demanded, anger heating his tone, "Are you God? Who are you to decide whether a person is beyond saving or not?"
"I'm the man who has spent the last fifty years fighting men and women like that!" Mad-Eye snarled back, "I've spent nearly my whole life battling scum like those people you want to save! People who rape and kill with no remorse and would willingly set the whole world ablaze as long as they got to stand on top of the ashes!"

"Things will never get better in our world as long as the fires of hatred are allowed to grow," Dumbledore sighed, "The only way we can create a brighter and better future for those who come after us, is if we learn to forgive…"
"Is that what you said to the victims of Grindelwald?" James asked, causing Dumbledore's head to snap up, "Are those the words you use to justify sitting on your arse and letting that madman tear Europe apart, rather than actually do something about it! How many innocent people died either by his wand or in one of his camps while you quibbled over your naïve ideas of forgiveness and mercy!"

"Being merciful is not naïve, James… And I'm sorry you feel so. The things that Gellert did are reprehensible and can never be forgiven. But that doesn't mean that I should have acted like him just to end his tyranny. That would have made me no better than he is."

"You misunderstand me, Professor," James replied softly, "I am not saying that being merciful is wrong, but there is a time and place for it. How much faster could the last war with Voldemort have ended if we had been allowed to fight back on equal terms, rather than just stun them and lock his followers in Azkaban, only for their 'friends' to break them out a few days later and start the whole process all over again!"

"We cannot defeat Voldemort by acting like him, James…" Dumbledore said sadly, causing Sirius to growl angrily.

"How dare you… How dare you compare James to that monster! Voldemort wants to control the entire world and crush anyone that he feels is unworthy of magic, beneath his bootheel! James wants to create a world where men and women like Voldemort have no place, and yet you would compare the two of them as though they were two sides of the same coin? How dare you, sir!"

"I mean no offense, Sirius," Dumbledore offered, raising his hands in surrender, "I'm simply worried that if James, or any of you for that matter, continue down this path of hatred and bloodshed, there may come a time when you can no longer see any other path to take but the one you're on."

"And what other path would you have us take, headmaster?" James demanded, "Should we take Voldemort alive so that he can one day escape and start his war all over again? Should I allow my Aurors to risk their lives needlessly, forcing them to use half measure like stunning their enemies, only for them to receive a killing curse in the back because of it! Tell me, oh high and noble Dumbledore, what should I do to be worthy of such venerations as you!"

"Rescind the order to allow Aurors to kill on sight, rather than stun," Dumbledore replied forcefully, "Give those foolish men and women the chance at redemption for their crimes, and yourself as well."

"And what crimes have I done that require redemption!" James demanded, jumping to his feet and slamming his palms down onto his desk.
"I think we both know the answer to that, my boy…" Dumbledore replied, staring at James from over his half-moon glasses.
"You unbelievably hypocritical bastard…" James breathed, "The blood on my hands in nothing compared to the ocean on yours!"

"Yes, I am aware," Dumbledore replied sadly, "Yet between the two of us, I appear to be the only one trying to wash it off. Is this what you want Harry to aspire to? To hate? Or would you rather teach him to forgive his enemies and grow up never knowing hatred's name?"

"You're the reason Harry died!" James raged, his temper finally breaking loose as he tried to jump over the desk at Dumbledore, only to be held back by Sirius as Mad-Eye cast a silencing charm on the office. "If I had known then what I know now, my son would never have been murdered! We should have been killing them then, instead of stunning them! But no! We listened to the noble advice of Albus-bloody-Dumbledore and nearly ended up losing the whole war!"
Dumbledore sat relaxed in his chair as James' anger washed over him and yet left him untouched, which seemed to anger James even more, as he struggled to break free from Sirius' iron grip.

"I am sorry, James… For what you lost… But my stance hasn't changed, we cannot defeat evil by using their methods to fight."

"Then it's a good thing you're not in charge," Mad-Eye spat, "Otherwise Voldemort would have already won by now."

"This meeting is at an end, Professor," James growled, "Kindly leave, I have others waiting and decisions need to be made regarding this war. Decisions that you are no longer a part of."

"James, please…"
"I said GET OUT!" James snarled, his magic exploding outward and actually ruffling Dumbledore's robes, causing the man's eyes to widen for a moment before he released another sad sigh and rose to his feet; just before he left, he cast one last weary look at his former students.

"I hope in the coming days you will reconsider my words, James… There's still time to turn away from this path you're on…"

Before James could respond, Dumbledore stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him with a sharp 'snap.'
Once he was gone, Mad-Eye turned to James with a raised brow,
"Now, who wants to tell me just what our dear Minister meant when he said his son was murdered? Because as far as I'm aware, the boy is alive and well at Hogwarts, unless that's not the case at all…"
:END FLASHBACK:

After making Mad-Eye swear a magical vow not to tell anyone about Harry, James and Sirius had told the old man the whole sordid story regarding Harry's miraculous return, and how they had made up the whole story about finding him at an orphanage in order to keep Harry from becoming a lab rat.
Naturally, Mad-Eye had been stunned by the revelation and had wholeheartedly agreed with James that Harry's true origins should be kept hidden lest the Unspeakables snatch the boy up and make him a permanent resident in the bowels of the Ministry as they attempted to find out all they could, uncaring about the boy's comfort throughout the ordeal.

Now, as James gazed down at the written invitation from Dumbledore to the next 'Order' meeting, his thoughts traveled across the country to where his children were safely studying at Hogwarts. If only James had been able to kill Bellatrix before Voldemort escaped with her, he could have ended the war before it ever began; instead, the bastard had been allowed to flee with his most deadly servant in tow, and the war was now all but inevitable. Throwing down the letter with a weary sigh, James ran a tired hand over his face as he sat back in his chair, his thoughts traveling back to the first war so long ago, and how it had made him grow up much faster than he'd wanted to.

He'd just been a boy when the war had begun in earnest, too cocksure of himself and all too eager to join the fighting, not yet knowing the horrors of battle that would quickly dispel all his foolish notions of glory and honor. Both Dumbledore and James' parents had done all they could to keep James and his friends out of the war, having already experienced such horrors during the war with Grindelwald, and not wanting the next generation to go through it.

Their pleas had fallen on deaf ears, however, and soon after graduation Hogwarts, James and his friends had joined the fighting, determined to put an end to Voldemort and his ilk, while bringing glory to all their names as 'heroes of the Wizarding World.'
His very first battle had immediately destroyed all of James' foolish notions of what war truly was; ten seconds into the battle, James had watched as a girl he'd gone to school with was literally blown to pieces, leaving nothing behind but a puddle of blood and gore as a red mist hung in the air. James had frozen in horror at the sight, an action that very nearly cost him his life, and would have if not for Sirius tackling him out of the way of an incoming killing curse, that missed the pair by mere inches.

That battle was James' first encounter with Bellatrix 'the Angel of Death' Lestrange, and it would leave a lasting impression on him for the remainder of his life; when the battle finally came to an end, a dozen of his friends lay dead or horribly injured, while the Death Eaters were to able to boast of only losing four of their own. Peter had lost an eye that night and had never been the same after, and James found himself often wondering if that was the night that Peter had decided to join Voldemort; if Peter would have ever betrayed them had James not stupidly dragged them all into a war that none of them were ready for.

Truthfully, James believed that was the night his innocence died; killed off in a war that he and his friends should never have been a part of. A war that should never have happened in the first place, and would never happen again if James had his way; once Voldemort was finally sent to hell where he belonged, James would finally be able to focus his full attention on making the Wizarding World a better place where his children will be safe and where the idiotic beliefs that the Purebloods held so dear would finally die out, as they should have decades, perhaps even centuries, ago.

The changes he had already made were well on their way to making such a future not only a possibility, but a reality, but James knew he had so much more to do before his children and their children after them, would finally be able to live in a world where they would be safe from the cruel bigotry that James had known growing up.
A knock on his office door brought his focus back to the present as Sirius stepped in with a worried look on his face,
"James? Almost ready to go home?"

"Yeah, let me just get my coat."

With a nod, Sirius backed out and closed the door behind him, leaving James once again alone in his office; with a weary sigh, James slowly rose to his feet and waved his wand at the fireplace, instantly extinguishing the flames as he grabbed his black coat off the rack. Quickly throwing it on, James felt his back pop and released a satisfied groan before he stepped out the door.
XXXX

*Harry's Original World*
Ron Weasley tried not to show utterly heartbroken he was as he stared down at the sheet covering the body of his baby sister, Ginny. His parents had been escorted to the headmaster's office some time ago, leaving just him and his brothers to stand guard over the dead girl's body that lay covered up in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. His poor mother had been nearly catatonic as she was led away, having thrown herself onto her daughter's body and openly sobbed out her misery when she and Ron's father had arrived.

Tearing his eyes away from Ginny's body, Ron cast his eyes to his brothers as tears ran freely down his cheeks; the twins were staring dead-eyed at their little sister's body, while Percy sat in a nearby chair, his face in his hands and his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.
As Ron turned his eyes back to Ginny's covered body, he couldn't help but acknowledge that this whole year had been a misery, not just for him but for Hogwarts in general, as well.

Ever since his best mate, Harry Potter, had disappeared last year, Ron's life had been turned completely upside down; Dumbledore had nearly torn Hogwarts apart when Harry had first vanished, determined to find the boy at all costs. A few weeks later, Professor Quirrell was discovered trying to steal 'something' by Professor Dumbledore; Quirrell had attempted to flee from Hogwarts upon being caught in the act but found the act impossible once Dumbledore sealed the castle and activated the wards.

With no other options available, Quirrell had run into the Great Hall and attempted to use the students as hostages, resulting in another furious and awe-inspiring duel between Quirrell and Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick, while the rest of the staff tried to shield the students. For nearly ten minutes, the four Professors traded shots at each other, while the watchers stared in awe at the amount of magic being used; finally, Dumbledore stormed into the Great Hall, and Quirrell found himself completely inundated.

The Great Hall had then watched in horror as it was revealed that Quirrell was possessed by the spirit of Voldemort, when Professor Snape accidentally set Quirrell's turban on fire, causing the man to violently tear it off his head; instead of the back of his head, Quirrell actually had a second face protruding from his skull, and the Great Hall had exploded n screams of horror and shock.

After several moments of chaos where Voldemort and Dumbledore traded threats and taunts at one another while the staff and students stared in horror, black smoke began to pour off of Quirrell, causing the man to scream in agony before finally collapsing to the floor as the smoke hovered above the man's body.
With an inhuman scream of rage, the smoke had then flown out of the window and disappeared as the Great Hall watched in horror; moments later, it was proclaimed by Professor Snape that Quirrell was dead, to the shock of all.

Within hours, the Ministry had descended upon Hogwarts en masse and had questioned nearly every student and staff member who had been present; Fudge had tried his best to cover up the incident once it was all but affirmed that Voldemort had indeed been possessing Professor Quirrell, but the number of eyewitnesses made any such attempt impossible, especially once the students began writing home about what they had seen.

The Daily Prophet had run the story for weeks afterwards, and Fudge had had no choice but to publicly admit that Voldemort was somehow still alive, albeit in spirit form, only; under a unbearable wave of pressure, Fudge had then placed a one million galleon bounty on the Dark Lord's spirit, though how anyone was supposed to collect was anyone's guess.

Because of all this chaos, interest in the mystery of the disappearance of Harry Potter had all but vanished until it seemed like Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione were the only ones still looking for him. Ron's friendship with Hermione soon dried up as well, unfortunately; without Harry to keep the two from constantly tearing into each other, the two had realized how little they had in common and slowly drifted apart. Ron had begun to make friends with the rest of the boys in his dorm, while Hermione had begun to seek out like-minded individuals in Ravenclaw House.

In fact, the only time that the two even saw each other anymore, outside of class, was when they would meet up in the library and try and find some answer to where Harry might have vanished to. Hedwig, Harry beautiful snowy owl, had also vanished, a few weeks after Harry, and that had seemed to galvanize Hermione into an almost all-consuming determination to find her friend; Ron was more pragmatic, while he still met up with Hermione in the library as often as he could, he was beginning to give up hope of ever seeing his friend again, alive at least.

Ron had even voiced his opinion to Hermione a few months prior, resulting in an awful fight that very nearly had both drawing their wands on the other; it was only with Professor McGonagall's interruption that both were quickly disarmed and told to stay away from each other for the foreseeable future.

This year had been even worse than the last one; first, Dumbledore had hired a narcissistic Professor named Gilderoy Lockheart, who spent more time talking about his many exploits in fighting the dark forces of the world, than he did actually teaching the students anything. Personally, Ron thought that Lockheart's so called 'exploits' were nothing more than a load of dragon dung; Ron had even been given detention for standing up and saying so, right to the professor's face after finally having had enough during one lesson.

The second thing that had made this year worse than the previous one, was that soon after Halloween, attacks began to happen at Hogwarts. Half-blood and Muggleborn students were found one after another petrified by some unknown force, with looks of horror on their faces. Whoever was responsible had even left a message stating the mythical 'Chamber of Secrets' had been opened and that they were using the monster inside to purge the school of all those who were unfit to study magic.

There was even talk of closing Hogwarts if the attacks didn't stop soon, and Hagrid had been arrested under orders from Cornelius Fudge, himself, for apparently playing a part in the attacks. This was proven to be not the case a few weeks later when another attack occurred, and Hagrid was swiftly released with the Ministry's apologies.

Worse still, Dumbledore had been suspended by the Hogwarts board of governors for failing to stop the attacks; Draco Malfoy had been practically giddy at that, and Ron had lost Gryffindor fifty points for breaking the wanker's nose with a well-deserved right hook.
Ginny had gone missing a week ago and a bloody message had been found painted on the wall where the first attack had occurred, stating that 'her skeleton would lie in the chamber forever.'

To the disgust of all, Lockheart had fled like a coward in the night soon after, and many suspected he did so because the staff had all but demanded that he use his 'expertise' to find Ginny and save her. Ron had vowed then and there that if he ever saw Lockheart again, Ron would kill the man with his own two hands. Immediately after Ginny's disappearance, Dumbledore had returned with a Parseltongue friend of his from India; Dumbledore was of the belief that only a Parseltongue would be able to find the hidden chamber, seeing as how Salazar Slytherin was one, and would have used said gift to make his chamber virtually impossible to find otherwise.

Dumbledore's theory was proven true when the entrance was found a few days after his return, in a bathroom of all places! The staff had descended into the chamber together and the students waited anxiously for their return, hoping beyond hope that Ginny would be found alive.
This hope was crushed when the staff members returned several hours later, covered in blood and wounds from facing whatever lay in Slytherin's chamber, each looking as though it was taking all their strength not to break down and sob at their failure to save Ginny.

Professor Sprout had, unfortunately, not come back, while Flitwick had lost his left arm. Dumbledore had come out of the chamber with a heartbroken look on his face, carrying Ginny's dead body, and a black book that looked like it had been set on fire. Even Snape's usual sneer was absent, replaced with a look of sorrow that seemed odd and out of place on his sallow face.

No one ever discovered what happened down in the chamber, for Dumbledore would not speak of it, nor would any of the other staff, even when Fudge showed up and demanded they do so. Professor McGonagall had drawn her wand on the Minister then, and demanded he leave Hogwarts at once before she decided to kill him; something in her eyes must have convinced Fudge that she was being deadly serious for he promptly fled the castle, and McGonagall retired to her office where it was said she drank herself into oblivion, as she sobbed out her frustrations.

Rumors spread throughout the castle that Voldemort was to blame for the attacks as well as for Ginny's death, and Dumbledore had all but confirmed it when he spoke to Ron's parents, subtly hinting that the Dark Lord had somehow possessed Ginny the same way he'd possessed Quirrell the previous year.
As Ron stared down at his little sister's body, black rage seemed to spread throughout him, and his hands curled into fists at his sides; Voldemort had taken Ron's uncles, he had taken Harry's parents, and now he had taken Ron's little sister.

Ron even suspected that Voldemort had killed Harry, and that was why they couldn't find him. There and then, Ron made a vow, Voldemort would take no more from this world; if it was the last thing Ron did, he would hunt that monster down, as well as all who followed him, and send them all to hell where they belonged!
XXXX

*Harry's New World*
Zeke groaned in pain as he leaned heavily over the chair he was currently chained to; how long had it been since the battle of Azkaban? Days? Weeks? Longer? Zeke no longer knew; time seemed to have no meaning in the dark depths of the Ministry's cells. His once dirty blonde hair was now even more so, from the lack of a proper bath, and his bright blue eyes were clenched shut tight as he tried to breathe through the pain in his chest. He'd considered himself lucky at the time to have survived the battle, but he'd quickly been disabused of that foolish idea after he'd woken in the bowels of the Ministry and been handed over to the 'tender mercies' of Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

When Fenrir had been executed, Zeke had thought that he'd finally gotten the lucky streak he'd been waiting for; he'd managed to take over Grayback's pack without even having to lift a finger. He'd quickly used his greatest weapon, his intelligence, to shore up his power and quickly and quietly get rid of all those who might challenge his right to rule.

The only thing he hadn't counted on was Voldemort showing up and offering Zeke's new pack the chance to exact revenge on the Wizarding World for how many of their friends and packmates had been slaughtered. It had taken Zeke mere moments to realized the way the winds were blowing, and that if he turned Voldemort away, the pack would tear Zeke apart for cowardice; so, internally fuming, Zeke had agreed to join Voldemort's attack on Azkaban, and as a result had been left as the only member of the pack still alive.

Caught hiding under a pile of his packmates bodies, Zeke had been immediately taken into custody and for the first time in his life met someone who scared him more than Fenrir Grayback: James Potter.
The Minister of Magic already had a fearsome reputation since he fought nearly alone against hordes of Zeke's packmates, and somehow survived; that reputation had only grown since then with James' duel against Fudge, and his victory at Azkaban.
James had simply stared at Zeke for a moment, when the werewolf had been brought to the Ministry cells, as though silently evaluating Zeke.

Finally, after several moments of tense silence, James had spoken in a voice so cold that it had sent shivers down Zeke's spine,
"I want to know what Voldemort's plans are, and you are going to tell me. However much pain you endure between now and then, however, is entirely up to you."

"I don't know anything!" Zeke had cried back, struggling to break free from the iron grip that the two Aurors on either side of him held Zeke with; James sneered at that and tilted his head slightly as he stared at the man before him.
"I've read the report on you, Zeke Bailon… You were once considered a prodigy, perhaps one of the brightest students that Hogwarts had seen in decades. That is, until you were bitten and forced to leave Hogwarts when you were sixteen. You tried to find honest work for a while, but no one would hire a werewolf, so you chose to join Fenrir's pack and used your cunning and intelligence to bring the same misery to others that had been brought to you."

"I know my own life well enough," Zeke spat bitterly, "Why are you telling me what I already know…"

"Because I want you to know that I know what type of man you are," James growled back, "You're the type who will do whatever it takes to survive. You hold no loyalties to anyone but yourself and will betray everyone as long as you can manage to save your own skin. I know these things because I once had a friend like you, someone I once considered a brother. And yet, despite the number of years together, he still chose to betray my family and I to Voldemort, just to save his own pathetic skin. You will do the same, it's just a matter of which will break first; your loyalty to Voldemort or your body."

"Give me Veritaserum!" Zeke cried back quickly, "You'll see that I'm not lying! I don't know anything!"

"Unfortunately, that's not possible at the moment," James growled back. The Ministry has used up its whole supply of questioning Ministry officials to find Voldemort's spies. Which means that we must fall back on tried-and-true methods to get you to talk."

Turning away from the pale werewolf, James looked at the two Aurors holding Zeke and twitched his head for them to take the man away; the last thing Zeke heard as he was dragged away from the Minister was James Potter growling to Mad-Eye Moody,
"Get me that information, Alastor. I don't care how you do it."

As Zeke was dragged into the elevator, he felt his blood freeze as he heard Moody chuckling darkly in reply.
Since then, Zeke's life had been one of constant misery; Mad-Eye Moody would come to Zeke's cell at all hours of the day or night, and drag Zeke to the interrogation room where he would be questioned for hours before being thrown back into his cell.

Between the lack of sleep, the constant beatings, and the terror of not knowing when the next round of questioning would come, Zeke's most powerful weapon, his mind, began to unravel and he feared it wouldn't be long before he went truly mad. At times, he wondered if he should tell Moody when he knew; Zeke was no fool, but he was very good at playing one, it was how he lulled his victims into a false sense of security and always managed to come out on top.

He knew what Voldemort's next plan was, not the entirety of it, but enough; but had said nothing for fear of the Dark Lord's wrath coming down on Zeke. James Potter and his band of ignoramus's were fools if they thought Voldemort wouldn't be able to get to Zeke in here, even if he was locked up in the Ministry. That was why Zeke had pushed so hard for Veritaserum to be used on him; Voldemort would understand if Zeke talked due to being dosed with potion, no one could lie while under its effects. At worst, Zeke could expect a few hours of the torture curse. But if Voldemort found Zeke had talked of his own free will, then Zeke would be dead in a matter of days.

Today's 'session' had been the worst one by far and Zeke's throat was nearly raw from the amount of screaming he'd done; it seemed as though Moody was finally beginning to lose his patience with Zeke's intransigence, and Zeke took a bitter form of pleasure from that small victory.
Slowly raising his head, Zeke saw Moody glaring at him as he leaned heavily on his walking stick; swallowing his fear, Zeke gathered what saliva he had left and swallowed to ease the pain in his throat before speaking.

"How many more times do you want me to say it, old man? I. Don't. Know anything."
"Yes, you've repeated that ad nauseum…" Moody growled back, "Problem is that we both know you're lying. And unfortunately for you, today's your last chance to tell me what I want to know."

"What do you mean…?" Zeke whispered, his eyes widening at Moody's threat,
"I don't have anymore time to waste on you, dog," Moody growled, ignoring the angry look that Zeke sent at the insult, "And James doesn't either. The next batch of Veritaserum won't be ready for a good while yet, and since it seems like you truly refuse to break, you're of no further use to us; save one."

"Which is…?" Zeke asked fearfully, his body beginning to shake from both the pain of his injuries and the terror in his heart.

"The Dementors, those we've captured at any rate, are locked up deep beneath our feet, in the darkest bowels of the Ministry," Moody growled, "And they're quite hungry after several days of no food. So, if you don't tell me what I want, you'll be given to them for dinner."

Zeke's eyes widened in horror at the threat; surely, they wouldn't do something so evil! Not even Voldemort would do something so horrifically monstrous!
"You're lying…" Zeke whispered back, "The Ministry would never allow something so inhumane!"
Moody chuckled at that, and the sound sent shivers up and down Zeke's spine; a moment later, Moody began to slowly circle Zeke's chair, the only sound being the clunk of Moody's staff in the darkened cell.

"James Potter is a good man, much better than me by leaps and bounds. That is why neither he nor the Ministry will know what happened to you. I'll tell them that you died under questioning."

"That makes you no better than the Dark Lord!" Zeke cried out in terror, "You're a monster!"
"Wrong, I'm a warrior," Moody retorted, "And this is war! A war that you and all the other bastards who chose to follow Voldemort started! And in war, sometimes you must do things that disgust you in order to end the fighting as quickly as possible."
Zeke said nothing, his thoughts running a mile a minute as he calculated the odds of Moody following through with his threat; Moody seemed to realize what Zeke was doing and chuckled darkly.

"Not many know this, but out of all the dark creatures in the world, I hate Werewolves the most. Not all of them, mind you; some can be quite honorable allies, like the Minister's friend, Remus Lupin. But the minority is vastly outnumbered by those like you, who choose to kill and destroy with no care."
Pulling up the right sleeve of his robe, Moody showed Zeke a horrible scar that ran across the Auror's bicep, as though some creature had slashed at the arm, and nearly severed it, entirely.

"You know how I got this scar?" Moody asked, his voice barely above a whisper as Zeke stared at the white lines, "My father was a local tavern keeper, a good and honorable man who always had a smile and a joke to tell his customers. I loved my father very much. One night after work, he was walking home and was attacked by a werewolf; realizing what would happen if anyone were to find out that he'd been bitten, my father chose to hide his injuries and stitch up his wounds himself. The next full moon, when he changed, he killed my mother… Then he came for me… I killed my own father, beast... I'll have no trouble killing you."

As Zeke stared into the dark depths of Moody's eyes, he came to a horrifying conclusion: Moody had meant every word he'd spoken. If Zeke didn't speak, Moody would, without a doubt, follow through with his threat and feed Zeke to the Dementors, and there would be no one to stop Moody from doing so.
This horrific realization shattered Zeke's loyalty and courage like fine china, and he finally began to speak.
XXXX

Author's Note:
Sorry for the long wait, guys. It's been a helluva few months, and I didn't have time to write, anymore. I hope this chapter satisfies you, and I promise that the next one won't be so long.
In the following few chapters, I plan to put James and the war on the back burner and focus more on Harry, again. Someone pointed out, correctly, that the story has begun to be more about James than Harry, and I realized that I needed to get back to the story's main character before I made this a completely different story than I intended. I only plan on writing probably another ten or so chapters, and then this story will be complete, so I hope you all stick around to the end.
Until next time.