Chapter 48
"You damned fools! What were you thinking?"
"She broke into the bank!" the goblin protested angrily. "She was our prisoner!"
Sebastien shook his head.
"Have you forgotten the treaties?" he asked. "What kind of sympathy do you think you are going to garner when the ICW discovers that you kept a human captive?"
"Are you going to tell them?"
Sebastien glared at the impudent creature.
"And what do you suggest I tell them?"
"It was an attack on the bank."
"That will only incite hostilities between your kind and ours," Sebastien pointed out. "The goblins are in no position to defeat us. Even you must see that."
The goblin pursed his lips and muttered something in its native tongue before grinning.
"We thought you of all people would be pleased we apprehended her. She was in your vault, Minister."
"My vault?" Sebastien asked worriedly. "What did she take?"
"She took nothing," the goblin assured him, "but she certainly had a good read through the documents in there. I expect she knows all of your secrets, Minister. Now, if you don't mind, our work to undo the damage continues. Good day, Minister Laurent."
Sebastien swallowed deeply as the goblin left his office, and he poured himself a drink.
His vault.
He kept all manner of things in there that would ruin him if they became known to the public.
Nonetheless, it wasn't as though the woman had any proof.
She left with nothing other than her life intact, though that would have to change.
He was due to address the ICW shortly, and he needed to ensure they would offer him the support he would undoubtedly need to apprehend the Serpent.
Sebastien had been mortified to learn that he and another had destroyed Gringotts.
The vow should still be in place, but the Serpent had become a liability that could not be left unchecked. He needed to be eliminated, and though Sebastien had his reservations about doing so, it had become unavoidable.
"What do you think?" he murmured.
"He must be killed, Sebastien," the woman purred in his ear. "It is the only way."
Sebastien nodded his agreement and drained his glass, preparing himself to make his bid to the ICW.
If they did not comply, he would need to formulate a new plan, but he expected they would.
He had more than enough support amongst his peers to see it done, after all.
(Break)
Gellert chuckled as he began reading through the various newspapers that had been released throughout the week. By the time he reached the last, he was laughing uproariously.
"They did it," he declared gleefully. "I knew they were mad, but to destroy an entire branch of Gringotts is something even I would've been reluctant to do."
Cassiopeia nodded.
When the two men had left Nurmengard, she'd not expected them to do what they had. She'd considered that they'd find a way of rescuing Evans' wife, but not in such a blatant and bold way.
It was rather commendable.
Gellert chuckled once more.
"I'm going to keep these on my wall," he decided, gesturing to the newspapers. "It's nothing less than Laurent deserves. How are you faring with Fontaine?"
Cassiopeia shook her head.
"Well, with what happened in Paris, he's been impossible to track," she explained. "He uses the floo directly from the Belgian Ministry of Magic to his home, and the security there has undoubtedly been increased. He's paranoid, so it may take a while before I can get to him."
"Patience," Gellert urged. "I expect he will be much more cautious now with what happened in Paris, but he will slip up eventually."
Cassiopeia nodded.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" she sighed. "Working with Evans goes against everything…"
Gellert held up a hand to silence the woman.
"Twenty years ago, I would've laughed at any who said this would happen. Evans and I will never be friends, but he is doing what is right. I never intended for Laurent and his ilk to become what they are. They must be stopped, Cassie, and then you can go back to despising Evans all you like. For now, he and Jameson are the best chance we have of ridding the world of Laurent. I know you don't like it, but you are doing it for me."
Cassiopeia nodded.
"For you," she murmured.
"Thank you," Gellert said appreciatively. "You have always been my most loyal and dependable friend."
She positively preened under the praise, and Gellert lamented on the years they'd spent together.
From him, there had never been any romantic inclinations towards Cassiopeia. He'd made that very clear, and yet, her loyalty had never wavered.
He couldn't fault her for that, and even now, when he needed it most, she was showing just how much he meant to her.
It was warming, and there was little of that in Gellert's life.
What had happened between him and Albus and the solitude he'd lived in only made Cassiopeia's devotion to him all the more special.
(Break)
He ran his fingers over the puckered flesh of his chest where the other Harry had cut into him to relieve the pressure from the partially landed rupturing curse.
In truth, he remembered little of the unpleasantness of the treatment, but he was in no doubt that, through whatever inspiration had struck, his life had been saved by the actions of his counterpart.
"How are you feeling?" Nicholas asked as he entered the room.
Harry began buttoning up his shirt as he shook his head.
He didn't know.
For the most part, he felt as he always had, though there was something undeniably different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was there.
It wasn't as though anything had truly changed about him. He was still very much himself in every conceivable way, just somehow different.
Perhaps it was the close brush with death that made him feel so.
He couldn't be certain.
All he knew was that he was alive and grateful for it.
"I'm alive," he replied.
"You are," Nicholas agreed, "and there doesn't seem to be any negative effects of what the two of you did. Consider yourself lucky, Harry. His quick thinking is why you are standing here now."
Harry nodded his agreement.
"What about the tests?"
Nicholas had subjected them both to rigorous testing to ensure neither had suffered any unexpected complications from the transfer of blood. For the better part of a week, Harry felt as if he'd been an experiment of the alchemist, and the other Harry had not escaped either.
"All as I'd hoped," the man replied with a smile. "Of course, I must urge you to be careful and come back if anything changes."
"Do you think it will?"
"No," Nicholas reassured him. "Everything has been stable for the past few days."
Harry nodded appreciatively as he finished dressing, smiling as Eleanor entered the room.
His wife had been rather subdued since they'd reunited.
Guilt.
She felt guilty for what had happened, and though Harry had been frustrated by what she'd done, he couldn't blame her entirely.
He, too, had done his fair share of foolish things over the years, and Eleanor was only trying to do right by him. He couldn't fault her for that, not when he likely would've done the same.
It had been them against the world for so long now, and when it came to one another, there was nothing that neither would do for their spouse.
"Can we get ice cream?" Harry asked hopefully.
She shook her head as a tired smirk played at her lips.
"It didn't do too much damage then," she huffed.
"No, but I think I deserve two servings of ice cream. My chest is really sore."
"No, it isn't," Eleanor grumbled. "Now you're just milking it. Come on, I'll get you some ice cream. I think I could use some, too, but only if Nicholas says you are ready to leave."
"He is," the alchemist confirmed, "and for all that is good, do try to stay out of trouble, Harry."
Harry snorted.
"I do try. It's just that trouble seems to have a way of finding me."
(Break)
The Dark Lord tapped the headline of the article impatiently, his gaze drifting towards the frowning Avery. It was not the news he'd been hoping for, and he found it rather irksome that nothing had been done to prevent it.
"I'm not sure what you wish for me to say, my lord," Avery sighed.
"I am wondering why it happened in the first place."
Avery frowned as he leaned back in his chair.
"You are asking why Leach was replaced by Bagnold? The man is a coward and is likely halfway across the world by now."
The Dark Lord released a deep breath.
"Did you read her words, Thomas?"
"I did, my lord. For us, nothing has changed. Bagnold will oppose us as Leach did, and she will fail."
"Oh, I do not doubt that," Voldemort replied confidently. "What I am referring to is how she made it into office. Why was a candidate we could puppeteer, at the very least, not put forward?"
"Because any bid supported by any of us would've been immediately dismissed," Avery answered. "We do not have the political backing to install a Minister of our choosing. We are not the Blacks, and we are not the Malfoys. Even the neutrals would not have voted in favour of anyone we recommended. It was a lost cause even before it was one."
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes in irritation.
If Lucius were the head of the Malfoy family, he would've had the influence required, but the blacks were indeed lost to him.
He'd hoped they would be one of the families he could rely on for support, but it was not meant to be.
Arcturus Black was not like those who'd come before him.
He was weak and would rather spit in the face of his ancestors than do what even his own father would've done.
The man was pathetic.
"Between you and me, Avery, things will change on that front one day," he replied cryptically. "For now, we continue doing what we are, but with the caveat that we rid ourselves of Crouch. The man has become quite the burden."
"That won't be easy, my lord," Avery warned. Crouch is a much better wizard than most would believe. Just because he has spent much of his life in courtrooms doesn't mean he hasn't taken measures to ensure his safety. There is a reason Smith chose him as his replacement, and it has nothing to do with Barty's people skills. I expect you would have to eliminate him personally."
"Is that so?" Voldemort asked amusedly. "Well, then you shall leave it with me. Crouch will be taken care of when the time is right."
Avery nodded as he stood.
"Are you really going to entertain the idea of Lestrange's sons joining us?" he murmured disapprovingly.
"I do not see the harm," Voldemort replied with a shrug. "They may not be their father, even between them, but the name is a powerful one. I will find a use for them. You can send Rodolphus in on your way out. I will speak with him first."
Avery said nothing else as he left the room, and the Dark lord prepared himself to listen to the drivel of the Lestrange brothers.
It wasn't that they were not capable. They were just so boorish in everything they did.
Sometimes, what was expected of them required subtlety, and both were rather lacking in this area.
(Break)
"How do you think that went?" Harry asked.
Bellatrix dragged a hand through her hair before shaking her head.
"Not good," she huffed. "I didn't expect to be teaching so soon."
Harry chuckled amusedly.
"Well, now you know it isn't as easy as it looks," he pointed out. "It's not as simple as turning up, showing off a few spells and then moving on to the next class. Teaching takes meticulous planning, but you have all the potential in the world to be great at it. If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't let you do it."
"You did it on purpose," Bellatrix accused.
"I did," Harry said unashamedly. "I wanted you to see for yourself what goes into every lesson. Now, you will not take your planning for granted. Perhaps it was a little cruel to allow you to be unprepared, but you won't make that mistake off your own back. I have exceedingly high expectations of you, Bellatrix, and you must remember, it is not only you that you are representing when you are doing this. It is my reputation also."
Bellatrix nodded her understanding.
"I won't let you down," she promised.
Harry offered her an encouraging smile.
"I know you won't," he replied. "Go on. Take a break and then I want you to write a reflection of the lesson you taught and how you can do it better next time."
"How many inches of parchment should it be?"
"That doesn't matter. I will read it, but it is for your own reference."
Bellatrix nodded as she stood.
"You know, I didn't think it would feel so strange being here like this instead of as a student."
"You'll get used to it, and for the record, you're already doing well, but don't let that get to your head. We've not even begun scratching the surface of the hard work yet."
"I look forward to the struggle," Bellatrix grumbled, shooting him a smirk as she left the room.
Harry snorted to himself.
He hadn't lied to her.
Bellatrix was doing well, and the lesson she'd taught had not been done badly. It merely lacked preparation.
"Come in," he called as a tentative knock sounded at the door. "Bloody hell, Weasley, you've only just graduated. I thought I'd be safe from you for a while, at least."
Arthur guffawed as he entered the classroom before sobering.
"I just wanted to bring this to you, Professor," he said, offering Harry a sealed envelope. "It is an invitation to mine and Molly's wedding. We'd both really like for you to be there."
"I would be honoured to come," Harry replied sincerely. "It feels like only yesterday you were a little second year trying to make my life hell, and now, you're getting married. Congratulations, Arthur. I'm sure you will and Molly will be very happy together."
Arthur nodded appreciatively.
"I wasn't so bad was I, Professor?"
"No," Harry sighed. "You certainly kept things interesting, but I will say that I hope that any children you have given you as many headaches as you did me. Anyway, were your NEWT results what you hoped for?"
"They were, and I've just started a job at the Ministry of Magic in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."
"Muggle artefacts?"
Arthur nodded enthusiastically.
"Well, ever since I used that muggle device on you, I've become more fascinated with other things they use. I figured why not put my interest to use and pursue it as a career. Ut's only a small department, but I'm enjoying it."
"I really am pleased for you, Arthur, and I look forward to the wedding," Harry returned, offering the redhead his hand.
Arthur winced as he accepted the proffered limb.
"You haven't seriously been carrying that around with you all this time?" he gasped.
"No one gets the last laugh, Weasley," Harry replied, holding up the muggle shocker. "I believe this belongs to you."
Arthur took it and placed it in his pocket, shaking his head in amusement as he walked towards the door.
He paused as he reached it and turned back towards Harry.
"Professor, could you tell me what the function is of a rubber duck?"
Harry chuckled to himself, remembering when the much older Arthur had asked him that when he'd only been twelve.
"It doesn't have one, Arthur," he explained. "It's just something muggles put in the bath with them as a toy."
Arthur frowned before nodding.
"They're a strange lot, these muggles," he murmured as he left.
Harry smiled to himself.
Given what was happening around him, there was little to smile about, and though he knew much of what seemed so terrible about the world would be remedied, hearing of Arthur and Molly's impending nuptials was just the boost he needed.
It had been a long and tiring week.
Flamel had insisted on Harry's daily presence to undergo tests, and Harry needed to prepare himself to return to Hogwarts.
He was grateful that both the other Harry and his wife were okay, but the situation could have been avoided altogether.
Still, it was done now, and with Cassiopeia Black seemingly on his side, he could once more focus on what was important, though as he read what was undoubtedly Molly's handwriting on the front of the envelope, he reminded himself not to forget about his own life away from the madness that had consumed much of it.
With the sombre affair of Imelda's funeral approaching, it was nice to be reminded that not everything in the world was so cold and destructive.
Even his own life wasn't as dreary as it had once been, even if it seemed to be only snatched moments of warmth.
"Gringotts, Harry?" Amelia sighed.
"There wasn't much of a choice," Harry pointed out. "The goblins would've killed her."
Amelia shook her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"You have a thing for saving people, don't you?"
"I try not to."
"Well, if you didn't, I probably wouldn't be here now. Maybe it's one of the reasons I fell in love with you."
"So, it wasn't my charm, charisma, and good looks?"
"That too," Amelia grumbled. "You do realise I should probably turn you in," she added with a smirk.
Harry chuckled as he stepped back and held his hands out.
"Be my guest."
Amelia tutted and pushed his hands away.
"Don't tempt me, Jameson," she warned with a grin. "But for the record, I'm proud of what you did, even if it was reckless, dangerous, and stupid. Please don't make a habit of it. When Riddle is gone and the others are dealt with, I'd like what Eleanor and the other Harry have."
"A pedestrian, peaceful life?"
"Each other, Harry," Amelia replied.
It brought a smile to his lips as he remembered the way she had looked at him.
"It's not often you smile," a voice spoke, pulling him from his reverie. "Not like that."
"Do I come across as a miserable bastard?"
"No," Bellatrix answered, "but you don't smile like that."
Harry chuckled to himself and sobered as he eyed the young woman.
"There is something you can help me with if you don't mind. It's a pureblood thing, and I want to get it right."
Bellatrix nodded.
"What do you need?" she asked curiously.
(Break)
His wooden leg clunked dully across the hard floor of the atrium as he awkwardly stepped through on his way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
He received odd stares from those passing him by, but Alastor didn't care.
Although he was still struggling to adjust to the prosthetic limb, he knew he was making good progress under the care of the Healers.
Nonetheless, he was eager to return to duty.
Life had become dull without being on patrol, and Alastor had never been one to be idle. He enjoyed his work, even if he hadn't realised just how much being an Auror had consumed him.
In truth, it was everything, and without it, he didn't know what he would do.
His colleagues broke out in a round of applause as he entered the open office, and he merely shook his head.
He didn't want a pat on the back or adulation for what he'd done. It was his job, and losing a leg, though unpleasant, was not the worst thing that could've happened to him.
"Alastor," Amelia greeted him fondly, wrapping him in a tight embrace. "What are you doing here?"
"Just seeing if there's any work I can do," Alastor replied gruffly.
Amelia shook her head.
"You know they won't let you back yet," she sighed.
"Aye, I know," Alastor muttered irritably, "but I'm tired of doing nothing."
She offered him a sympathetic smile and nodded over his shoulder, where he found Grimm had arrived.
"Moody, what the hell are you doing?" the man huffed, his moustache twitching in frustration.
"Reporting for duty, sir," Alastor answered.
Grimm shook his head.
"Until you've been given the all clear from the healers, you know…"
"I know," Alastor cut in, "but I'd like to do something, even if it is being stuck here doing paperwork."
Grimm released a deep breath.
"Alright," he conceded. "We can always use help with paperwork, but I will have to clear it with Crouch first."
Grimm left, and Moody turned back towards Amelia.
"How's the leg?" she asked.
"Wooden," Alastor answered with a grin. "I understand you had quite the night of it recently. Albus told me when he came to visit."
Amelia nodded.
"You could say that," she grumbled. "I don't know what I'm going to do with that man."
Alastor chuckled amusedly.
"Aye, he's a live one, but a good one."
"He is," Amelia agreed with a smile. "I just can't wait for all of this to be over then I won't have to spend every waking moment wondering what is going to happen next."
"No, that will be Harry doing that for you," Alastor chuckled. "How is he?"
"Taking it in his stride," she murmured. "It's like it's nothing new to him."
"Aye, he does find himself in these situations," Moody replied with a smirk. "What about Imelda…?"
"Her funeral is in a couple of days," Amelia informed him.
"I'll be there," Alastor assured her. "She was a good lass, and she'll be missed."
Amelia nodded.
"I think you will be working with me and Kingsley when you're back. We've been partnered together for now."
"Makes sense," Alastor grunted. "Anything new happened?"
Amelia shook her head.
"It's quiet, but Harry says that's not a good thing. He seems to think that Riddle is planning something."
Alastor nodded his agreement.
Whenever Riddle had been inactive, he'd done something rather spectacular to mark his return.
"Well, best keep your wits about you," he urged. "Anyway, I'll be off. I have a meeting with Albus and some of our associates."
Amelia eyed him questioningly, but Alastor said nothing before taking his leave of the office.
It felt right to be back.
Although he wouldn't be doing what he wanted, and likely for some time, it felt good.
Besides, it wasn't as though he would be idle now, not with Albus's idea of forming a group to fight against Riddle.
Alastor wasn't sure what that entailed exactly, but he was as keen to be a part of it as he was to return to work.
(Break)
Sebastien Laurent had never looked more tired in the years Albus had been acquainted with the man. Given the week he'd endured, he was not surprised to have seen the French Minister come ICW Representative appear to have aged a decade.
What had happened at the Paris branch of Gringotts had made the news across the world, but details had been rather lacking whilst the investigation was ongoing.
It was Sebastien who'd requested the gathering today, and he wasted no time in approaching the centre of the floor.
"I call this meeting to order," Albus declared, tapping his podium with his gavel. "Mr Laurent, I believe it was you who wishes to address the body."
Laurent nodded and frowned at Albus before clearing his throat.
"As I am sure you are all aware, just a few short days ago, quite a disastrous situation occurred in Paris, in which our branch of Gringotts was destroyed. At first, we believed that only the building of the bank had been damaged, but it seems that a considerable portion of the tunnels beneath have collapsed. This means that most of the patrons cannot access their vaults, even if they are accessible when the debris have been cleared at all."
Albus listened intently to Laurent's version of events and gestured for the man to continue.
He did so after taking a calming breath.
Laurent was struggling to maintain his composure, something he was not known for.
"The investigation remains ongoing," he informed his peers, "but having spoken with the goblins at length, and relying on evidence, we have discovered the perpetrator."
"Then you have them in custody?" Albus pressed.
Laurent's frown deepened as he shook his head.
"He remains at large, and that is why I bring this before you," he explained, addressing the room. "The man responsible is one familiar to most of us in here. Some years prior, he was known across much of the continent as the Serpent."
Many of the members of the ICW began murmuring amongst themselves, and Sebastien waited for them to finish before continuing.
"He is an exceedingly dangerous man, and I cannot fathom why he would do such a thing. I used to look up to the Serpent and respect what he did for my country during Grindelwald's occupation. All I know now is that he seems to have changed over the years and has become the very thing we once united to fight. I have issued a warrant for his arrest, and I ask that each of you do the same in your respective countries."
The murmuring among the members continued, and Albus knew what would come next.
There was a certain group of countries who would unwaveringly support Laurent's plea, and others would simply follow.
Were it not for what Harry told him about the very body he oversaw, Albus would not have believed it to be hosting such corrupt, violent, and unpleasant individuals, but it was.
It wasn't that the Supreme Mugwump was naïve, but he did not want to believe that perhaps the most powerful collection of wizards in existence was not beyond the greed of self-service or the purporting misery on others in the pursuit of it.
It sickened him, and he tapped his gavel atop his podium once more, taking no small amount of satisfaction in what was to come next.
"Mr Laurent, we all sympathise with what has happened, but forgive me if I am wrong, but isn't this a domestic problem? You said the very same to me when I asked for help regarding our ongoing problem with Lord Voldemort, who continues to murder innocent British civilians. He has even attempted to breach the Statute of Secrecy, and you so aptly reminded me that it was a concern of Great Britain. If what you say is true, how is our situation different?"
Albus leaned back in his chair as Laurent glared at him, and he was pleased to hear the agreement of his fellow representatives.
"Because the Serpent used to be a Hit-Wizard under the authority of the ICW!" the Frenchman snapped.
"But more than two decades ago," Albus pointed out. Besides, I, much to my surprise, received this letter only yesterday morning from an individual claiming to be the Serpent. It makes for some rather interesting reading and explains why Gringotts in Paris was intruded upon. I will explain only the parts relevant to us. Do bear in mind, Mr Laurent, that I have taken the time to corroborate what is claimed by this individual."
Laurent was trembling in fury as Albus cleared his throat and began selecting the poignant statements of the missive he'd received.
"Ah, here it is," he continued. "It is my understanding that against the many treaties implemented between us, the ICW, and the Goblin Nation, they did willingly hold a human captive against their will. In this case, that person was the wife of the individual who sent me this letter. His claim that doing so is an act of war against him and our kind, which gave him the lawful right to not only retrieve his wife from imprisonment but to take whatever necessary action to ensure further hostilities were prevented. Now, I cannot attest to what happened in Gringotts, but is it true, Mr Laurent, that the Goblin Nation did indeed hold a human prisoner?"
Laurent's nostrils flared at the question, and it became clear to Albus the man had hoped to omit the goblin's part in what had occurred.
"It was mentioned that they did have a human prisoner," Laurent admitted. "But that does not justify…"
"On the contrary, Mr Laurent, it does," Albus cut in. "You see, the treaties have been in place for centuries, and were their prisoner to be harmed, as was undoubtedly the intention of the goblins, you would've found yourself at odds with the home country of the lady in question. That being the case, it would've been the Bulgarians."
The Bulgarian representative was taken aback and frowned at Albus.
"Of course, further hostilities have been negated," he assured the men. "I have already spoken with the Goblin Liaison Office of the ICW on the matter, and although negotiations are ongoing, I am hopeful that any unpleasantness that may have stemmed from this occurrence will be avoided. Mr Laurent, is there anything else you have to say on the matter?"
"What of the vaults?" the Frenchman demanded angrily.
"Ah, of course," Albus replied with a bow. "Arrangements will be put in place to ensure that the French citizens can access their gold at any other location across Europe. They need only provide a statement of their balance. I thank you, Mr Laurent, for bringing this to our attention, but as I am sure you will agree it is a domestic issue that France must solve. The ICW has granted a generous alternative, and for that, I am grateful for the work of those within the Goblin Liaison Office and the Goblin Nation. I now call this meeting to a close. Thank you all for your time."
Laurent was furious, but no other offered any protest as Albus dismissed them.
Most left the room immediately, and the Supreme Mugwump took note of those who remained behind to discuss the matter with Laurent.
Every one of them was those that his Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts had highlighted, and Albus left the room, troubled by just how deeply seeded the corruption was within what was supposed to be a gathering of countries working together for a safer, better world.
It was those thoughts that plagued him as he made his return journey to Hogwarts, though when he arrived in his office, his focus shifted to the more immediate danger at hand.
Tom Riddle.
Thus far, his former student was having more success in his campaign than Albus would like and had even managed to employ some exceedingly dangerous creatures to assist him.
The attack of the giants had come as quite a surprise, and were it not for Harry's intervention…
Albus did not wish to consider what might have happened, but as he looked around his office at those who had answered his call, he felt confident that the Dark lord would soon face more resistance.
Among those gathered was Dorcas Meadowes, perhaps the most gifted witch in the country. Benjy Fenwick, a gifted wizard in his own right, and even Caradoc Dearborn, an expert in the art of duelling.
Each would undoubtedly prove to be an asset along with Alastor, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Arthur Weasley, and several others, all of whom brought their own expertise to the cause.
"I apologise for being late," Albus offered, "and thank you all for coming. We as a country face a threat we have not faced in many years, and I fear that Voldemort is much more dangerous than any other who came before him. He was a student here some twenty years ago, and since then, he has become a bigger threat to us all than I could've anticipated. You have all seen what it is we are facing and what he is capable of. Our only chance to defeat him is to come together, and that is why we are here."
Fawkes trilled a musical tune to emphasize his point, and Albus felt filled with hope as the phoenix landed on his shoulder.
This was just the start of the resistance, and it seemed that Fawkes approved.
(Break)
Harry had lost count of how many funerals he'd attended. After defeating Voldemort, he'd been there to bury both Remus and Tonks, Fred Weasley, and he'd even ensured that Sirius and Alastor had been given their own service.
There had been many others over the course of the weeks following the final battle, and Harry had seemingly drifted from one to the next.
Each of them had died fighting against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and the same could be said for Imelda Yaxley.
As expected, it was a sombre affair, and as he stood with his arm wrapped around Amelia's shoulders, he looked on as the coffin was lowered into the ground.
Those gathered bowed their heads silently, offering their thoughts and prayers for the woman. Though Harry didn't know her well, he understood the sacrifice she'd made.
Amelia held Imelda in high regard, and that was more than enough for him.
It was odd to see some of those in attendance.
He'd not expected to see Charlus and Dorea Potter, and certainly not Arcturus Black and his wife.
There were others who were somewhat familiar to Harry, and as they left the graveyard, he squeezed Amelia's shoulders comfortingly.
She said nothing but offered him an appreciative smile, and as they followed the mourners into a pub not so far from where Imelda had been buried, they took a seat at one of the reserved tables.
"Drink?" Harry asked.
Amelia nodded.
"Something stronger than Gillywater."
Harry nodded and made his way to the bar.
Ordering them both a honeyed mead, he returned and offered a nod to the approaching Alastor and Kingsley.
"It's still strange going into the office and not seeing her," the latter sighed. "We went through training together and started at the same time."
"Aye," Alastor acknowledged. "It never gets easier when you lose someone."
"How many have you lost?" Kingsley asked.
"Six, including Imelda," Moody answered. "We do this job knowing the risk, but you don't expect to actually be killed. When you see it, it's a reminder of just how dangerous what we do is."
Kingsley nodded, and Harry's attention was caught by another group approaching.
He knew both Charlus and Arcturus and one of the men was undoubtedly Imelda's father.
The fourth, he didn't know.
He was about a head shorter than the other three, and his hardened eyes didn't seem to suit the rest of his appearance.
He was balding and had a paunch.
It was Imelda's father who addressed the group, offering each of the Aurors a respectful nod.
"You must be Amelia Bones," he said with a smile, though it was strained.
Amelia nodded, and Imelda's father offered his hand.
"Reginald Yaxley," he introduced himself. "Imelda always spoke so highly of you. All of you," he added to Kingsley and Alastor.
"We thought a lot of her, sir," Moody replied. "She will be missed."
Yaxley nodded stiffly as his gaze drifted towards Harry.
"Your words are most appreciated, Moody," he replied, "but I was hoping to have a word with Mr Jameson here if you don't mind."
The three Aurors left, and the four men took seats around the table, each of them sporting a grim expression.
"I understand it is you leading the charge against this Voldemort," Yaxley murmured.
Harry shook his head.
"That would be the Ministry."
"Bollocks," Yaxley huffed. "I'm not interested in the pissing Ministry. My daughter was killed, and the only thing that will make it any better for me is to make sure the bastard dies. I fought against Grindelwald, and I will fight against Voldemort. So stop fucking around and help me do that."
Harry looked towards both Arcturus and Charlus, who nodded, and Harry released a deep breath.
"All of you?"
"All of us," the fourth man declared.
"We've known that girl since the day she was born. I will not work with Dumbledore, but I will fight with you," Charlus explained.
"And me," Arcturus added. "Gilbert served with us on the continent. All of us would trust him with our lives."
"Even if he does have half his arse missing," Charlus snorted.
"Bugger you, Potter," the man identified as Gilbert grumbled irritably, shifting in his seat.
"So, Jameson, what do you say? Are you going to help us?" Yaxley asked.
Harry knew the men wouldn't take no for an answer, and though he was reluctant, it wouldn't hurt to have four veterans on his side.
"I'll help you, Mr Yaxley," he answered.
The man nodded appreciatively as he stood and offered his hand.
"Reginald Yaxley, but only my wife calls me that when she's angry with me," he introduced himself. "It's Reg to everyone else."
Harry accepted the proffered limb.
"Harry is just fine, Reg."