Chapter 57
It wasn't like him to take joy in the misery of others. Perhaps when he'd first started out as a Hit-Wizard, he'd been rather jaded and despised much of the world for how he had been treated by it, but things had changed, for the most part.
Despite the setbacks he'd endured during the war, which continued to plague him, Harry was proud of what he'd done.
He'd married the woman he couldn't be without, and she had given him three wonderful children.
Life had not been so good for him for so long, but he'd managed to find more than enough happiness and contentment.
Still, Harry had never been able to rid himself of the niggling feeling that despite the vow he'd given, the prophecy he had seemingly left behind so many decades prior would somehow come full circle.
It seemingly had, and with all that Tom Riddle had done to him when he'd been a boy, Harry wasn't afraid to admit he was enjoying returning the favour.
The Dark Lord and his followers deserved every ounce of misery he gifted them, and Rabastan Lestrange, Nott, and Mulciber were only the beginning.
There was much more to come for Voldemort.
'In breaking news, there are reports of an explosion in the south of France at the residence of the Minister of Magic, Sebastien Laurent. Aurors and other personnel are on the scene, and we will provide updates when they become available.'
Harry frowned at the announcement.
Jameson had not informed him of any intention of taking out Laurent, and he couldn't imagine anyone else having the audacity to do so.
Still, something didn't feel right, and the more he pondered the development, the more it bothered him.
Had Jameson seized an unexpected opportunity to remove the man?
Harry didn't know, but he would get to the bottom of it.
An unknown agent acting against the consortium was a rather unsettling thought, but before considering such, he needed to be certain that Jameson was not involved.
Sending a patronus to his counterpart, he readied himself to depart, unable to shift the feeling that all wasn't what it had been portrayed.
(Break)
"You know, I was doing quite well against him before you arrived," Amelia commented, smirking against Harry's chest.
"I don't doubt it," he replied with a chuckle. "I'm very proud of you, but you know how magic works. I will not risk the prophecy not being in effect here."
"I know," Amelia sighed. "You're not scared you'll lose me, are you?"
"Every day," Harry admitted.
Amelia frowned as she raised her head to look at him.
It wasn't often that she saw him concerned, but he was, and she kissed him on the corner of his mouth.
"I'm not going anywhere, Jameson."
"Not intentionally, but everyone I have ever cared about has been taken from me by him. I won't let that happen again."
Amelia nodded her understanding.
"I don't doubt you, Harry. He's scared of you."
"He bloody well should be," Harry snorted. "The first chance I get, I'm going to kick his balls into his throat, and I will make a point to piss on his grave at least once a year."
"Who's going to pay for him to have a funeral?"
"Me," Harry answered with a smirk. "A good, traditional, muggle funeral. I might even bury him next to his father. He'd love that."
Amelia rolled her eyes at him.
"Can we talk about something else other than Riddle?"
"What would you prefer to talk about?"
"Who we are inviting to our wedding."
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, your brother can come, I suppose."
"That's nice of you. I'm sure Edgar will be pleased to know he made the list."
"Make sure he knows it was a difficult decision."
Amelia shook her head as she swatted his shoulder.
"What about the Hogwarts staff?"
"Them too," Harry agreed. "Jenny will want to come, and I should invite Bellatrix."
"What about the Potters?"
Harry frowned at the thought.
"Is that a good idea?"
"I don't see why not. Even if they don't know who you are, they do know there is a familial connection. I think you should invite them."
Harry nodded his agreement.
"I'd have to invite the Blacks too. Arcturus would wonder why Dorea got an invite, and he didn't."
Amelia laughed amusedly.
"This is going to be a bigger thing than we first thought, isn't it?"
"It's your fault."
"Is that right?"
"You know too many people."
Amelia quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I know my family, Alastor and Jenny. Most of the people will be your guests. You're the popular one."
"I wish I bloody wasn't," Harry grumbled.
Amelia patted his cheek gently.
"Don't worry, Jameson, it's only for one day."
"And then the rest of my life."
"Is that really such a bad thing?"
Harry smiled despite trying not to.
"No, it's not so bad."
"Good," Amelia declared. "Now, I should really get ready for work. Are you bringing the animals home today?"
"Do you miss them that much?"
"They don't answer me back."
"Oh, maybe you should quit being an Auror and become a comedian," Harry suggested.
Amelia grinned as she began dressing for the day.
"No, I think I'll leave the jokes to you," she retorted. "Can you be trusted not to blow up the house today?"
"You're never going to let that go, are you?"
Amelia shook her head.
"No, and Alastor thinks it will be a great story for our children."
"Children?"
Amelia nodded.
"Three would be nice. Three girls," she added. "I couldn't imagine raising your son, Jameson."
"I can't imagine that would be easy," Harry conceded. "Wait, you think raising three girls like you will be a walk in the park?"
"I'm a delight," Amelia returned.
Harry snorted amusedly.
"Bloody hell, I just had a frightening thought. What if we had a girl like me?"
Amelia's eyes widened.
"That is a terrifying thought. Why would you say something like that?"
Harry grinned triumphantly, and Amelia shook her head.
"I'm going to work," she declared. "I have a feeling that being an Auror will be easier than raising any children we have."
"It hasn't put you off?"
"No. You know me, Jameson, I quite like a challenge."
She left, and Harry allowed himself a moment to consider the possibility.
He'd always wanted a family, and to have children with Amelia was quickly becoming something he wanted more than anything else.
Even if the prospect was a rather daunting one.
"Bloody hell," he cursed as the ethereal snake suddenly materialised in front of him.
'We need to talk. The usual place.'
Harry nodded as he checked the clock.
He had a couple of hours yet before he needed to be at Hogwarts, and Evans wouldn't delay in arriving.
Quickly readying himself for the day, he left the new home he'd painstakingly built, wondering what could be bothering Evans so much.
(Break)
He'd experienced a myriad of emotions since he'd withdrawn his followers for their most recent venture. It was often throughout his life that the Dark Lord had felt himself unsettled, but the Serpent seemed to have a way of instilling that feeling within him.
What the man had done to Rabastan was magic Lord Voldemort had never witnessed before, and though he had viewed the memory of the event innumerable times since it had happened, he was no closer to figuring out exactly how it had been achieved.
Anger.
That was the emotion he had settled on, and for the past hours, he had been quietly seething as he pondered how to solve the problem that was the Serpent.
"What is it?" he snapped as a tentative knock sounded at the door.
"It is just me, my lord," Avery announced as he entered the room.
His most loyal follower would not admit it, but the pale pallor and furtive gaze told the Dark Lord all he needed to know.
Thomas Avery was scared, and perhaps he should be.
He was not like other wizards.
The Serpent was a killer, a man of violence who evidently possessed a brilliant mind to match it. Lord Voldemort was not afraid to give credit where it was due. He had spent decades on his own magical journey and understood better than just about anyone the dedication it took to become such a man.
Nonetheless, the Serpent's interference in his affairs was no less irksome, and he would be quite the conundrum to solve.
"How is Lestrange?"
Avery shook his head tiredly.
"Distraught," he answered. "He lost his father and now his brother. From what I have been able to glean, he is currently locked away in his family home and refusing to see anyone."
The Dark Lord nodded.
Rabastan's death had been particularly unsettling to bear witness to.
"And the others?"
Avery was rather uneasy at hearing the question.
"They are terrified," he answered candidly. "If he can get to someone as well protected as the Lestranges, none of us, it seems, can hide from him. It won't be easy to talk them around, my lord. I expect most will not come when you call them next."
The Dark Lord's nostrils flared as he gripped the arms of his chair tightly.
"Cowards!" he growled irritably. They will learn soon enough that you do not walk away from me."
Avery appeared as though he wished to say something but seemingly thought better of voicing his opinion.
"The Serpent, my lord. If you kill him, they will come back."
"He will die, Avery," the Dark Lord assured the man, "but I will not tolerate disloyalty. Send for them all. Let us see who has lost faith."
Avery opened his mouth to speak, but a pointed glare held his tongue, and he nodded before taking his leave of the room to do as he was bid.
Disloyalty.
It was one thing Lord Voldemort would not accept, not when he had given those who proclaim to follow him so much.
(Break)
The more he pondered the announcement he'd heard on the radio, the more suspicious of it he became. Harry did not believe for one moment that Sebastien Laurent was dead.
He himself had tried to gain access to the residence of the French Minister some years prior, and though he had no doubt he could've managed it, doing so would have been inexplicably difficult.
The protections there were extensive and would've been time-consuming to breach.
No, something wasn't right about the entire affair, and Harry was determined to get to the bottom of it.
"You look irritated."
Harry cursed as the man spoke, having seemingly appeared from nowhere.
"You know, I think you could teach me a thing or two about concealment. How do you do it?"
Jameson grinned at him.
"Years of avoiding the media," he chuckled. "Why are we here?"
Harry frowned at his counterpart.
"Haven't you heard?"
"Heard what?"
"About Laurent! It's all over the radio."
"What about him?"
Harry snorted humourlessly.
"So, it wasn't you. Well, according to the French authorities, his home was blown up last night."
Jameson was surprised by the revelation for a moment before he shook his head.
"Bollocks," he declared. "There is no way someone managed to blow it up without tripping one or more of the protections around the place. I've checked them for myself, and it would take days just to get through them. With the amount of Aurors in and out of the place, it would've been noticed."
"My thoughts exactly," Harry concurred. "So, what do you think?"
"I think the snivelling little shit has done a runner."
"As do I. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"
"I say we hunt the little git down," Jameson suggested. "I'm not letting him just vanish."
"You are a man after my own heart," Harry chuckled. "None of them can be left alive."
Jameson nodded his agreement.
"He can wait for now. It won't be easy to find him, and we have the others to deal with first. Any thoughts?"
"Abernathy. It has to be him. He's the biggest threat, but the problem we have is that I expect the others will follow Laurent's example and do a disappearing act."
Harry frowned thoughtfully.
"I have a few ideas on how we can prevent that," he murmured. "It won't be pretty, but I think it might just work."
"After what you did to Lestrange, I would bet that 'not pretty' is an understatement."
"You don't feel bad for him, do you?"
Jameson shook his head.
"The git deserved it, but doing something similar to the upstanding representatives of the ICW will not be well-received. I would bet that there are those who are going to kick up a stink about Lestrange, even if he was a tosser."
"Probably," Harry said with a shrug. "Not that I give a shit. I learned long ago not to take any chances, and with Riddle, any risk is too much. I bet he's furious with me."
"He's probably thrown a tantrum or two," Jameson replied with a grin. "Even so, we have to play our hands carefully when it comes to the rest of them. They've already tried to kill Amelia more than once, and I won't risk anything else happening to her."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"We will make sure we get it right," he assured the other man. "Any idea when you intend to have your wedding?"
"We haven't got to that yet, but we are talking about it more. I'd rather it was sooner than later."
Harry clapped the man on the shoulder.
"You know, for how different our lives have been, it seems as though we've always wanted the same thing."
"Family."
"And peace."
"And peace," Harry agreed. "Well, I will see what I can dig up about Laurent's disappearance. I expect Riddle will be quiet again for a while."
"And I'll shift my focus back to Abernathy. I've done a lot of the work already, I just need to be certain how to proceed. Maybe I'll have Black look into Berg or even the Bulgarians just to gather information. I don't fancy another rescue mission."
"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."
"I'm not," Jameson denied, "but I think Amelia will eventually kill me."
Harry laughed.
"Yeah, Eleanor wasn't too pleased. Anyway, give me a week, and I should have something. If I get time, I'll send Tom another reminder of why he's such a bastard."
"As will I," Jameson assured him before vanishing silently from the room.
"He's bloody good at that," Harry muttered. "Didn't even have to turn."
(Break)
Once more, he found himself playing host to his counterparts, though they were considerably fewer in number than they had been only a matter of months ago.
With Fontaine and Espinosa confirmed to be dead and now Laurent seemingly having met the same fate, the power of their group was beginning to shrink significantly.
Only five of the eight countries remained, and Abernathy did not miss the fact that his companions were beginning to crack under the pressure.
Adamski of Poland appeared uneasy at being among them, as did Sousa of Portugal. Berg was as calm as ever, even if his heavy brows were creased in a scowl of displeasure.
Visser of the Netherlands was all but unreadable, and Abernathy himself could not deny that Laurent's seeming demise had rattled him, though he would not show it.
"So, that's it then?" he demanded. "We just let the little shits win?"
"What do you suggest we do about it?" Berg returned evenly, folding his large arms across his chest.
"Not give in," Abernathy responded. "We take some time, we recuperate, and we continue on as we always have. Jameson will die, as will the Serpent, and then our troubles will be gone."
"You say it as though it is so easy," Visser snorted derisively. "You sent your very best men after him, and he returned what was left of them in boxes. What more are you willing to risk, Abernathy?"
"Everything!" the American answered immediately. "Is that not what we have been doing for the better part of three decades? Are we just going to cave to two men? TWO MEN! HOW FUCKING HARD CAN IT BE TO BE RID OF THEM?"
"You tell us," Berg grumbled. "We have tried to kill Jameson several times now, and our very best efforts have yielded nothing."
"You are right," Abernathy conceded, "but perhaps killing him is not our only option."
"Then what do you suggest?" Adamski scoffed.
"I suggest we use our political influence. I think it can be arranged that Jameson is put in the frame for Laurent's murder. The ICW will then have no choice but to use their resources to bring him in."
Adamski shook his head.
"Dumbledore will defend him ardently."
"And then Dumbledore will be harbouring a wanted criminal. His tenure as Supreme Mugwump will be over."
"Can you manage it?" Berg asked.
"The question you should be asking is, can we manage it? I expect we can. I need only speak with Laurent's replacement when they take office, and we will see it done."
The rest of the group did not seem convinced, but Abernathy would not be deterred.
Already, he'd lost some of the best wizards his country had to offer in the pursuit of Harry Jameson, but something had to be done about the man.
He was too close for comfort at uncovering the many operations the group had conducted over the years, and Abernathy had no intention of going to prison, let alone being killed.
"If you believe you can make it work, then do it," Berg urged. "You will have my backing."
"And mine," Visser added somewhat reluctantly.
"What about the rest of you?" Abernathy demanded.
They nodded, though they were clearly not convinced by his suggestion.
Still, what choice did they have?
They couldn't simply give up everything they had worked tirelessly for, and it wasn't as though Jameson would stop coming for them.
No, his plan had to work, or everything they'd achieved could well have been for nothing.
(Break)
"Alright, gather around, you perpetual headaches," Grimm instructed irritably. "Jones, unless you want to taste the tip of my boots through your arse, I suggest you shut your trap. Mr Crouch has something he wants to say, but before he arrives, it is my duty to inform you that because of what happened at the French Minister's residence, we are currently on high alert. Minister Bagnold has been given additional security, and her home is being meticulously combed for anything suspicious. She will be unavailable until further notice. Ah, Mr Crouch, if you will."
Amelia had not noticed the man as he'd slunk into the room, but she didn't miss the twitching of his toothbrush moustache as he cleared his throat.
"I've just been in for a meeting with the Minister," he informed them. "She is not pleased that, once again, members of the public interfered in Ministry business. It stops now."
He offered Amelia a pointed look, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes at him.
Crouch had as much chance of stopping Harry from going after Riddle as he did of winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award.
"Minister Bagnold has also made her displeasure known about what happened to Rabastan Lestrange."
"The stupid sod deserved it," Moody growled.
The other Aurors nodded their agreement.
"Be that as it may," Crouch cut in. "There is a substantial difference between a man being killed in battle and undeniable pre-meditated murder. I have reviewed the memory several times, and I am left with no doubt that what happened to Mr. Lestrange was the latter. This Serpent is not a man we wish to assist us when it comes to fighting Riddle and his ilk. There is no place for such disgusting acts, and I intend to have him arrested when the opportunity presents itself. As of now, he is a wanted man. So, if any of you are associated with him in any capacity, I suggest you urge him to turn himself in and then have nothing further to do with him. He is to stand trial and be imprisoned if he is to be found guilty. That is all."
He swept from the room, and Amelia watched until he left.
"Aye, I'd like to see the person who's going to bring him in," Alastor chuckled. "Unless Crouch fancies doing it himself, there's no chance. I'm not going to risk going against him. I'd rather keep what limbs I've got and my head on my shoulders."
"You're not wrong, Alastor," Kingsley chimed in. "I do not believe pursuing and engaging him will be good for anyone's health."
Moody nodded.
"Fancy him not wanting Jameson's help," he muttered. "If it weren't for him, there'd be considerably less of us here now, and it's not as though Jameson will listen. He'd stick Crouch across his knee and give him six of the best if he felt like it."
"Don't give him ideas," Amelia sighed, knowing that Harry might just do it to prove a point.
"I'd quite like to see it," Moody chuckled. "Then Crouch would have a reason to be such a miserable git. Look at me. I'm ugly as sin and missing a damned leg, and I'm not as unhappy as him. Maybe old Mrs Crouch isn't keeping him happy."
Amelia grimaced at the thought.
"Thanks for that," she huffed. "Anyway, I'd best let Harry know what Crouch has said."
It wouldn't make any difference, but she knew she should also tell him about Evans' new status, something else that wouldn't matter to the man.
Alastor was right.
It wasn't as though anyone could stop either of them if they wanted to.
(Break)
It was odd to think that being at work was a reprieve from everything else happening in his life. With Riddle still breathing and the corrupt members of the ICW operating, what would usually be the most stressful aspect of life for anyone else was Harry's time of peace.
It certainly helped that he had Bellatrix to assist him with teaching the younger students, something she was becoming very good at.
Although it was indeed a boon for him, his reasons for having her do so were not entirely selfish. He took his mentorship of the young woman as seriously as anything, and she was meeting every last expectation he had of her, often exceeding them.
He nodded approvingly as she dismissed the third years, having taught them the characteristics of a werewolf, and she released a deep breath as she flopped in the chair opposite his desk.
"How do the Professors cope teaching all seven years?" she groaned.
Harry chuckled amusedly.
"You get used to it, and you get better at it. Minerva could teach her entire syllabus in her sleep."
"I think I might have to learn how to do that. I'm exhausted."
"I did tell you it wouldn't be easy," Harry pointed out. "There's only a couple of weeks left until we break up for Christmas. You will be able to rest then, and I won't even set you any work."
"You're so kind to me," Bellatrix deadpanned, eliciting another chuckle from Harry.
"Why do you think I am having you teach the younger years?"
"Because it's easier?"
"True, but that's not the reason. Next year, I will have you teaching the fourth and sixth years for the same reason. I want you to really think about everything you have learned since starting at Hogwarts, and the best way to do that is to teach it. People get so caught up in wanting to learn advanced magic when the most basic of skills can be the most useful."
Bellatrix frowned thoughtfully before nodding.
"Applying the basics is essential for learning advanced magic."
"Exactly," Harry confirmed. "I'm not just having you teach them because I can't be bothered. It's useful, don't get me wrong, but it is more for your own benefit. It will make all of the other work you do, and even your practical magic, just that more polished."
"That makes sense," Bellatrix mused aloud.
"See, it's not about the free labour. Ah, I have a feeling I'm in trouble."
"Why?"
"My future wife is nearby."
"How do you know that?"
"Because it feels as though someone just walked over my grave," Harry snorted amusedly.
Bellatrix tutted at him.
"Idiot. Do you expect me to believe that when you've gone all doughy-eyed?"
Harry merely grinned in response.
"Come in, Bones," he called before the woman could knock at the door.
She wasn't even surprised that he knew it was her, but she paused as she entered.
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"Just Bellatrix here complaining how difficult I have made her life."
"You'd better not be working her too hard," Amelia warned.
"Would I do that?"
"Yes," Amelia answered. "This must be the young lady you spend your time torturing when you're not at home. I've not seen you since you were much younger."
"Amos Diggory's engagement party," Bellatrix clarified. "I remember you from there."
Amelia offered the younger woman a smile.
"That's it," she confirmed. "Sorry, Bellatrix, but do you mind if I have a word with him."
"Is he in trouble?" Bellatrix asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Not today, but it is only lunchtime," Amelia sighed. "It can quickly change with Jameson here."
Harry scowled at her, and Bellatrix laughed as she took her leave of the room.
"So, you're not here to arrest me?"
"Do I have a reason to?"
"Probably dozens, but let's not get into the whole who's breaking what laws. What do you need?"
Amelia deflated as she took the seat Bellatrix had vacated.
"A few things, really. Crouch is adamant that there is to be no more interference from members of the public when Riddle and his followers are acting up."
Harry quirked an eyebrow in response.
"Yeah, I'm going to choose to ignore that."
"Of course you are," Amelia said with a shake of her head. "Next thing, did you have anything to do with what happened to Laurent?"
"No, and neither did Evans," Harry huffed. "I met with him this morning because he thought it was me. I don't think for one minute he is dead. He's faked it and gone into hiding."
Amelia nodded.
"And that brings us to the last thing I need to tell you. Crouch has issued a warrant for Evans' arrest. He wants him prosecuted for the murder of Rabastan Lestrange."
Harry was taken aback by the revelation, but knowing what he did about Crouch, he knew he shouldn't be surprised.
"Evans will get a kick out of that," he sighed. "It's not as though anyone is going to be able to bring him in, but I will warn him. The last thing we need is one of your lot trying to be a hero and getting themselves killed."
"Do you think he would?"
"Not unless he had to, but it's not worth the risk. He has his reputation for a reason."
"So do you," Amelia pointed out.
"Yeah, but I don't plan on killing any Aurors. I don't think that would look very good for me."
"It wouldn't," Amelia agreed as she stood. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know. Will you be late tonight?"
"No, I'll be home."
Amelia nodded and gave him a chaste kiss.
"I'll see you tonight then."
She left, and Harry leaned back in his chair.
As much as he knew that Barty was trying to do the right thing, the man had once more proved that he was a damned irritant when it came to following the letter of the law.
Still, Harry knew he shouldn't have expected anything less from the man who'd imprisoned his own son without hesitation, the very same son Harry found himself teaching as a sixth-year Hufflepuff.
Barty Jr was a quiet student and a brilliant one at that, but that didn't stop Harry from keeping a close eye on him.
Somewhere along the line, everything went terribly wrong, though it was deeply unlikely that Barty would be given the chance to join Riddle this time, not when both Harry and Evans were determined to see an end to the Dark Lord sooner rather than later.
(Break)
Albus did not need a second chance to guess why a meeting of the ICW had been called. The news had been all over the radio throughout the day, and though he was taken aback by what had happened, he wasn't convinced that it truly had.
Laurent was one of the men Professor Jameson was investigating, and it was all too suspicious for the headmaster's liking that, after all these years, the Minister's home would be targeted in such a way.
No, something was quite amiss with the entire affair, and Harry's assurance that he was not involved in the incident was all the evidence Albus needed.
Not that it would be enough for the other representatives.
There were some in particular that Albus suspected would create quite the uproar.
"I call this meeting to order," he declared, tapping his podium smartly with his gavel. "I think it is clear why we are all here, and I would give the floor to Jean Delacour, the interim Minister of Magic of France."
Delacour was pale, but he stood tall as he approached the podium in the centre of the room, clutching a stack of parchment. Clearing his throat, his gaze swept across those gathered before he spoke.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he greeted them cordially. "I know that the news today would have come as much as a shock to all of you as it did me. The investigation into what happened is ongoing, and I will keep you informed as and when new information is available. For now, I will be filling in for Sebastien, but you can expect a new representative for the ICW to be appointed in due course. Whether I am to remain as Minister is for my colleagues to decide, and again, you will be kept up to date with any permanent changes made. So far, we have not managed to recover Sebastien's body, but his wand was found among the debris, so we are assuming that he was indeed home when the explosion took place. The cause of the blast is not yet known, but I am confident that our Aurors will get to the bottom of what happened. That is all I have to say for now. Thank you for your time."
With that, he returned to his seat, and Albus ended the meeting hastily, not missing that Abernathy was the first man to reach Delacour.
Another of those that Harry was currently investigating.
Albus didn't like it.
If Sebastien was indeed alive, it would appear that Abernathy was not aware of it or that he had his suspicions.
Regardless, it was more than a little suspicious that he was so keen to speak with Jean Delacour, especially when the man had so much on his plate already.
(Break)
"This is it?" the Dark Lord asked irritably.
Less than half of his followers had answered the call, the rest evidently more fearful of Jameson and the Serpent than his wrath.
Avery nodded.
"This is it," he murmured.
Lord Voldemort narrowed his eyes at those gathered before shaking his head.
"Each of you will be rewarded for your loyalty," he assured them. "For now, you may leave."
They did so, and for several moments, he pondered what his next course of action would be.
For a fleeting second, he considered punishing those who had not answered the call, but before the thought could be set in stone, Avery spoke.
"You must give the others a reason to return, my lord. They will only pull further away if you seek vengeance."
The Dark Lord's nostrils flared in irritation.
He did not wish to pander to those who were supposed to follow him, but he knew Avery was right.
"Then that is what I will do," he declared, plotting the downfall of his foes.
(Break)
It had been a trying day for Albus, though considerably less so than for the man sitting in a chair on the opposite side of his desk clutching a goblet of mead.
Receiving a message from Jean Delacour with a request to meet came as quite a surprise, but given the circumstances the man found himself in, he saw no reason to delay.
"You have my apologies, but I find myself in a situation I could not have predicted," Delacour sighed. "There are those of us who remember that it was you who defeated Grindelwald, and you have proven yourself a man of principle and sound morals since."
"Your words flatter too much, Mr Delacour," Albus replied, "but they are appreciated."
The man offered him a weak smile.
"I thought that perhaps one day I would like to succeed Sebastien, but not like this, and not when so many things are just not adding up."
"I'm afraid I'm not privy to the same information you are," Albus pointed out.
Delacour nodded and released a deep breath.
"The Aurors have recovered a body at the house, well, some remains of a body, but not enough to formally identify him," he explained. "Something feels terribly off about the entire affair, and then there's Abernathy."
"Abernathy?"
Delacour shook his head.
"He approached me when the meeting ended. I am not so familiar with him or the workings of the ICW, but he is under the impression that I should be looking towards a certain Harry Jameson as a prime suspect of what happened."
"Is that so?" Albus asked interestedly as he leaned back in his chair. "Did he give a reason?"
"He says that Jameson and Sebastien have been at odds for some time and that Jameson would have more than enough of a reason to kill him. He didn't go into specifics. That's about all he said."
Albus sighed deeply.
"You are right. You do not understand the full picture of what is happening, but I can assure you that Harry is not involved in this particular incident."
"How can you be certain?"
"Because Harry told me, and he is one of the few people that I trust implicitly," Albus answered. "Perhaps it would be best if you discussed the matter with him yourself. I am sure the conversation will be most enlightening, though I fear it will change your entire perception of just the kind of man Sebastien Laurent is. If you are amenable, I will send for him. He is in my employ, after all."
"Now I'm intrigued," Jean huffed. "I will meet with him. I want the truth, Albus. I do not like these political games."
"Then the truth you shall have," Albus assured him as he stood and threw a handful of floo powder into the fire.
It was only a moment later that Harry's head appeared, and he frowned at the sight of Monsieur Delacour.
"Harry, would you be kind enough to join us?" Albus asked. "Mr Delacour wishes to speak with you."
"I'll be there in a moment."
His head vanished, and Albus left the connection open.
True to his word, barely a minute passed before Harry stepped through, his gaze sweeping around the room to ensure they were alone.
"Mr Delacour," he greeted their guest.
"Mr Jameson. I would like to know what on earth is happening in my country, if you would be so kind."
Harry scrutinised the man for a moment before nodding.
"As you wish."
Albus listened as Harry regaled the man with what most would deem to be quite an incredulous series of events, and when he was done, Jean Delacour could only stare at him in shock.
"It is unfathomable," he whispered. "I had my suspicions that Sebastien may have turned a blind eye to a thing or two, but this? I am struggling to believe it."
Harry nodded as he removed a small trunk from within his pocket and placed it on the desk.
"This is a copy of all the evidence I have accumulated so far," he explained. "I intended to kill Laurent, but not yet, not until I had bled every bit of information from him. Dead men tell no tales, Mr Delacour."
"They do not."
"That's why it is a good thing that Laurent is alive and well," Harry said, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Alive?"
"Very much so. I suspect he has gone into hiding with a certain Madame Dubois."
"Manan Dubois?"
Harry nodded.
"Why do you think he was not so concerned at leaving his wand behind."
Sebastien frowned deeply.
"How did you know…?"
"I have my ways. Now, the question is, how do we proceed?"
Delacour released a deep breath as he pondered his next move.
"If Sebastien is involved in all of this, then I want him found and brought in alive. I will give you the opportunity to extract whatever information you wish, and if he is found guilty. I have no doubt that he will be given a sentence of death. He has betrayed our country and our people, and I will not stand for it."
"Consider it done," Harry replied without hesitation, offering his hand.
Sebastien accepted it, and the two men shook on the agreement.
"I would add something else," Harry said thoughtfully. "We are in a unique position where we may just be able to seize an advantage. I will need access to everything Laurent has touched since he took office."
"That can be arranged."
"Good," Harry declared. "Now, how would you like to play a part in a little scheme of mine?"
Sebastien looked at Harry questioningly, and Albus did not like the look of the grin his Professor wore.
"I'm all ears," Sebastien replied curiously.