Collision
"She will be buried here at the castle. There is nowhere else she would rather be laid to rest."
"Where?" Harry asked.
Godric frowned thoughtfully.
"By the lake," Salazar broke in. "The sun always rises over the lake. She'd like it there."
It had been two months since they'd held the intimate funeral for Rowena, and even now, her passing was felt by all of them.
With some clever charms work of the woman's own creation that Harry had found in the book, her grave had been hidden from all besides those who knew how to find it.
Harry would visit regularly.
It was odd to think that he'd mourned more for Rowena than he had his own parents, but in truth, he'd never known James and Lily Potter beyond his own jaded my memories of her, and what little he'd heard from others.
Rowena had been an important part of his life and would continue to be so until his time to pass on came.
Still, despite the turmoil caused by her death, Britain was mostly at peace now.
Arthur had secured his hold in the north and was campaigning once more to bring the rest of the country under his leadership.
Harry had not visited the king, nor made any gesture.
As far as he was concerned, he'd kept his word and there was little else left for them to say to one another. Arthur would be king of Britain, and Harry would continue living his life until Fate decided otherwise once more.
"She was so very proud of you, Harry."
He knew it.
Rowena had told him so, and even as a final lesson, had made him come to believe it somewhat.
"I keep telling myself I shouldn't come so often, but it brings me a sense of peace. Does that make sense?"
Helga nodded as she stood next to Harry at the edge of the lake.
"It does the very same for me. I miss her. Not a moment passes that I do not notice her absence, but then I come here, and it brings me closer to her. I don't think she minds the company so much. I'm sure she'd find a way to tell us otherwise."
Harry chuckled amusedly; the sound having been a foreign one for too long now.
"She would," he agreed.
"Have you been studying her book?"
"From cover to cover," Harry replied. "I will not allow her legacy to fade."
Helga nodded approvingly.
"And have you given any thought to our request of you?"
Harry frowned as he released a deep breath.
"One day I will, but for now, the students and the rest of us should be allowed to miss her presence. I know Hogwarts must continue, and it will, just not without her for a while longer."
Helga wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
"You know, one day, the rest of us will be gone too, and there is only one person we all trust to take our place."
"Those are some damned big shoes to fill."
"And we all know you will do so admirably. You are passionate about magic, Harry, and about sharing your vast knowledge, even if you don't quite know it yet. When you step into the classroom and begin bestowing your skill onto others, you'll see it for yourself."
"Maybe that is why I resist it," Harry sighed. "There is still much for me to do in the world before I can give the school everything it deserves."
"Then I will continue to look forward to the day you can do that," Helga said sincerely, giving his shoulder a squeeze before she turned back and headed towards the castle.
Harry remained where he stood for a little longer.
Even with the peace across the country, he'd had little of it for himself.
He'd been in mourning for Rowena and occupying himself by keeping abreast of all that was occurring along the length and breadth of Britain.
For now, the goblins remained in their southern caves, the Irish in their own lands, and even the Danes were content with remaining peaceful with Cnut's closeness to Arthur.
Still, Harry knew it wouldn't last.
Soon enough, something would happen to break the peace, and when it did, Britain would inevitably find itself at war once again.
(Break)
Arthur tapped his fingers on the parapet as he looked over the Wessex landscape.
It used to be said that it was impossible conquer during the days of Alfred, but only little of the man's work remained.
Over the years since his death, the various keeps had fallen into disrepair and been picked clean by the Danes and other bandits looking for treasure.
Even so, there was much potential here to restore what had once been, despite the recent fire and continued fighting.
For the most part, wherever Arthur went, those claiming to be king saw the wisdom in not fighting him on his quest to take control of the entirety of the country.
Some, however, were too proud to do so, or they overestimated their ability in defending what they believed was theirs.
The skirmishes were brief, and eventually, they would all bow to him.
Arthur knew he should be proud of all he and his men had achieved, but his crown only weighed heavier upon him.
"Your crown should be heavy, my king. If it becomes light, then you will find you no longer care for the people."
"I care for the people, Myrddin."
"That is why you have been chosen by your God to be their king. You care, Arthur. You wish to be different, to bring peace upon these lands. Britain must heal, or it will perish from the inside out."
Arthur nodded to himself as he continued to watch Gawain continue on his way into the distance.
The time had come for him to meet with the Green Knight, and though Harry had assured him he had little to worry about so long as he kept his word, Gawain had been oddly quiet these past days.
Arthur wasn't concerned.
Harry had always proven to be a man of his word.
Arthur missed him.
Not only for the invaluable help he'd given him over the years, but for his dry wit and easy company.
Harry treated him as he did any other and cared nothing for the crown or the power Arthur wielded.
He'd distanced himself from it throughout each of their encounters, and the king felt no better off without him, unlike Myrddin.
The man couldn't have been more pleased to see the back of Harry.
Still, he was gone now, and Arthur did not expect he would be seeing his friend again so soon.
(Break)
Life only continued to become more difficult and unpleasant for Albus.
Not only was his reputation in tatters, something that did not truly concern him, but Cornelius and the rest of his ilk in the Ministry allowed the nation to still believe that nothing was amiss, despite the ongoing emerging evidence that Voldemort had indeed returned.
Evidence.
If Cornelius put as much effort into fighting against Tom as he did trying to deny his presence, perhaps the Ministry of Magic might just stand a chance in the inevitable war.
Fudge, however, preferred to continue burying his head in the sand, and he had garnered the support over the years to do so.
If course, Lucius and the others who'd found themselves in the good graces of the Minister would only encourage his delusion.
It suited them perfectly for the world to believe that it was Albus who'd taken leave of his senses, and not those they looked to for protection.
Albus supposed people would rather believe the easy lie than the difficult truth, but it did not make it any less true, and Tom was not a problem that would simply fade away, no matter how much they wanted him to.
Already, Albus had spent month after month under scrutiny and ridicule.
He'd been removed from his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Warlocks, and banned from attending the meetings of the Wizengamot.
Still, the Ministry had no power to remove from his position of headmaster of Hogwarts, though not for lack of trying, and Albus suspected they would succeed soon enough.
"Why now?" Minerva asked.
"Because it is all I have left and Cornelius would see me left with no position of influence."
"He's a damned fool, Albus, and we shall all be killed because of him."
Albus nodded sombrely.
For more than two years now, since he'd first spoken aloud of his suspicions, Cornelius had only dug his heels in deeper and done all he could to deny and discredit Albus.
Now, it seemed that he was ready to make his final move against Albus by passing the legislation to allow one of his own within the castle.
In truth, Albus was surprised that Cornelius had not done so sooner, but given the support Albus had managed to maintain for as long as he had, there had been no urgency to.
"Worry not, Minerva," he sighed. "As ever, we will find a way to weather the storm. Do you have the recommendations on who you believe should be Head Girl and Boy for the year."
Minerva frowned but conceded the point with a nod.
"I believe that Miss Patil and Mr Macmillan would be the best choices."
Albus leaned back in his chair.
"Not Miss Granger?"
Minerva deflated as she shook her head.
"Given what is happening, I believe she would only serve to antagonise the tension, and there have already been more than enough unpleasant instances between the Gryffindor and Slytherin students. Neither house should be given preferential treatment, so having a Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw student is what is best for the school."
Albus nodded his agreement.
"Very well, Ah, Arthur, is there something you need?" he asked as the redhead appeared at the door.
The Weasley patriarch closed it as he entered the office and took a seat.
He looked more tired than Albus had ever seen him, and yet, he continued to volunteer to keep watch over the Department of Mysteries.
"I am unsure, Albus: he murmured. "Perhaps I am imagining things, but I do not think so. For several nights now, I have been getting the unshakeable feeling that I am not alone in the corridor. I am certain that someone else is there with me, and that they know I am there."
"We expected this would happen. Perhaps the Dark Lord is preparing to finally make his move. He will not wait forever when he is so desperate to claim it for himself. He must know by now that I will not retrieve, and considering that Harry…"
He broke off and released a deep breath.
"What should I do, Albus?" Arthur asked.
"Nothing, for now, Arthur, but you must remain vigilant. You have the means to alert the Order should you need to. Do not hesitate to do so."
Arthur nodded as he stood.
"I will not," he assured Albus. "If I notice any other changes, I will inform you."
He left, and the Headmaster could not help but feel that very soon, much would change.
It seemed that Tom was finally ready to announce himself if such a thing became necessary, which meant that he once more felt that he was at a strength that he could all but pick up where he left off more than a decade and a half ago.
(Break)
The calmness of his home was not something Ignotus had ever taken for granted.
Much of his youth and latter formative years had been spent with his head buried in every tome he could lay his hands on in a bid to invoke something that should've been left well alone.
For the years after, he was not ashamed that he lived in fear that Death would claim him prematurely, as it had Cadmus and Antioch.
He missed his brothers still.
They had indeed all been fools together, but they had been together.
Ignotus had married the love of his life, they'd born a son, and even Owain had his own with another babe now on the way.
He never felt to be a burden, but for some time now, Ignotus had begun to believe that he'd served his purpose. Owain was grown with a family, and the lands here were in the best of hands.
Neither his son nor Harry would allow any transgressions here, and yet, Ignotus knew, deep down, that he was not quite done yet. He wasn't sure what was left for him to do, but he could not rid himself of the feeling that he had another purpose yet.
"The barns are finished," Darragh declared proudly.
He, Gunnar, and some of the other villagers had been working on creating a communal farm, one that they would all equally tend to and share the harvest from.
It was an idea Ignotus had considered over the years, but hadn't gotten round to beginning, and he was grateful the Irishman and Dane had done so.
Both were proving to be most useful to have around.
They were willing to help others who needed it and had become a most welcome addition to the land.
"Well, you have certainly done well," Ignotus praised. "What will you do next?"
Darragh scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"I think we'd best plough the fields…"
"They are already done."
"They are?"
Ignotus chuckled as he nodded.
"Magic is a most useful thing."
Darragh hummed.
"Do you think magic would be useful in helping us with the fences?"
"You know, lad, it just might," Ignotus mused allowed, gesturing for the man to lead the way.
Farming might not be why he continued to linger on, but whilst he was waiting for all to be revealed, there was certainly no harm in keeping his hands and eyes occupied.
What would be would be, and though Ignotus had his suspicions of what was to come, he'd learned in life that nothing was certain.
(Break)
He only became more restless whilst he slept with each passing night.
Morgana wiped the sweat from Harry's brow and ran her fingers gently through his hair. There's wasn't much else she could do in a bid to settle him, and in truth, she wasn't sure if it helped at all.
Still, she continued to do so, perhaps even for her own peace of mind.
Whatever was happening in his dreams continued to bother him, but it was neither fear nor worry that plagued him in his waking moments. It was frustration.
With the situation he could see unfolding in his mind seemingly becoming more desperate, Harry was, however, distracted.
In a way, Morgana was relieved he was no longer so focused on Rowena's passing that he couldn't sleep at all, but this was scarcely better, and as he opened his, she cupped his cheek gently, deflating as he offered her something of a smile.
"It's time," he murmured.
Morgana frowned.
"Time?"
Harry nodded as he sat up.
"If there is ever a time for us to go, it will be soon, in the next day or so. We must prepare."
"Are you certain?"
"I am. It is calling to me now. Even my magic is telling me that it is time to go back."
Morgana nodded.
"Then we prepare."
Harry released a deep breath as he stood.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "I don't know what to expect when I return."
"Does it matter?" Morgana asked. "You are no longer a boy, Harry. You're a grown man who has lived through war, built a home, and even made a king. You can break a Dark Lord."
Harry nodded.
"Funnily enough, I'm not so concerned about Riddle. What will be will be, but where we are going is so different to here. Instead of kings and Wizard Councils, there is the Ministry of Magic. It is a dangerous entity run by the damndest of fools."
"Do you fear them?"
Harry shook his head.
"No, but they are still dangerous. We just need to be careful with what we do."
Morgana snorted.
"Harry, you do not do careful."
"And that is the problem," Harry chuckled. "Come, we must visit Godric's Hollow first before we speak to the others at the castle. I can't leave without saying goodbye. When we return, things could be so very different here."
"You're certain you will not wish to stay?"
Harry shook his head.
"This is our home," he said firmly. "There is nothing there that will make me wish to stay. Besides, they will all think I am dead already. They have mourned for me and I for them. I do not belong there anymore."
"Then we will return to our little bit of peace."
Harry frowned.
"It will only be peaceful upon our return if we are fortunate, but I do not believe that will be so. This is just the calm before another storm, and I expect it will be a great one at that."
"Always with the doom and gloom," Morgana said with a grin.
"Do you truly believe it will be any different than I expect."
"No," Morgana murmured. "It will not."
(Break)
He listened intently, straining his ears in the silence, certain he had heard a disturbance in the corridor he waited in.
Arthur was convinced he was not alone and hadn't been for several days now, but there had been no true sign of anyone else until this evening.
He could see nor hear anything, but he could sense the presence of others nearby, and he did not like the sudden change.
With a shake of his head, he did his utmost to ignore the persistent feeling of unease, and when he could do so no longer, he carefully navigated his way out of the Department of Mysteries, unable to rid himself of the impending sense of danger permeating the air.
Sending a message to Albus, he could only wait for a response and hoped it would not come too late.
(Break)
"You're leaving?" Owain asked sadly.
Harry nodded.
"We knew this day would come, but I'll be back. You have my word."
Owain released a deep breath.
"What about the babe?" he asked.
"The babe?"
"He will need a guardian if anything happens to me."
Harry chuckled and clapped the man on the shoulder.
"Nothing will happen to you here. Before I go, I will bring the other protections to life we have in place. The village will be unplottable and unable to be found by any outsiders. You will all be well, and I will return."
"When?"
Harry seemingly did not have an answer for him, and Owain pulled the man into a tight embrace.
"You be bloody careful, you damned fool, and give the shit a Peverell hiding from me."
Harry snorted amusedly.
"I will," he promised.
"Good," Owain huffed, shifting his attention towards Morgana. "Look after him. He might be the toughest bastard I know, but he'll need it."
She merely nodded in response, and the two of them left.
Owain did not know when or if he would see them again, and as he took a seat by the fire, he did not know what to say.
"The winds of change have been blowing for some time, boy," his father said ominously. "Now, they are finally passing over us, but he will return. Do not doubt him."
"I don't," Owain assured his father, "but nothing is ever certain in this world."
"No, it is not," Ignotus agreed quietly, frowning as he peered into the fire.
(Break)
Grimmauld Place began to fill up steadily, and Sirius watched as the members of the Order took a seat at the table, all of them as clueless as him as to why they were being gathered so quickly.
For several moments, they speculated amongst themselves as to what could've happened, though Sirius remained silent.
Perhaps the Ministry had fallen to Voldemort.
In such times of certainty, no one could predict what was to come or when.
That was why during the Dark Lord's first rise to power, much of Britain was steeped in paranoia.
It was impossible to tell whose side someone was on; a lesson Sirius had learned only to his own detriment.
Pettigrew would pay.
One day, Sirius would get to the rat, and the man would plead for his life for what he'd done to James, Lily, and little Harry.
"What is happening, Albus?" Molly asked worriedly as the Headmaster entered the kitchen.
Albus looked worn, already tired of a war that had barely begun.
Before he could answer, however, a patronus arrived in the form of a doe, and Sirius scowled at the ethereal creature.
'Albus, the Dark Lord is making his way to the Ministry of Magic. He is going to take it himself.'
The does dissipated, and silence followed Snape's message.
Dumbledore appeared as though his very worst fears were coming true, though he steeled himself.
"He must not be allowed to take it," he murmured. "It would be best to trap them within the Department of Mysteries, if possible. It will be much harder for them to escape from there."
"So, we let the Dark Lord get it, but not get away with it?" Remus asked worriedly.
Albus nodded.
"Our timing must be impeccable. The Hall of Prophecies is a dangerous place. It would be best to intervene when he is clear of it."
"He will not be alone."
"He will not," Albus agreed. "I expect he will have his most trusted with him, and others waiting for if they are needed."
"We will be outnumbered," Kingsley pointed out.
"That's nothing new," Sirius snorted as he stood. "If the rat is there, he is mine."
"Sirius, you cannot be seen…"
He held up a hand to silence Dumbledore.
"I am tired of waiting in this damned house. If Fudge wishes to lock me up in Azkaban again, so be it, but I will not wait here when I can be of use to you. If Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters are there, you will need me."
After a moment, Dumbledore nodded reluctantly.
"Then let us prepare for the inevitable," he murmured worriedly, drawing his wand in anticipation of what was to come."
(Break)
They had been silent for some moments, and it was Salazar who stood from his place by the fire and nodded.
"You are certain?" he asked.
Harry nodded.
"She will come for us," he murmured.
"Now?" Godric asked.
Harry released a deep breath.
"It has to be, or Voldemort may not be able to be defeated. The prophecy is still very much real. I feel it bringing us together, and for now, there is peace here. How long that will remain, I do not know, but it is time."
Neither Salazar, Godric, nor Helga were pleased by the news, but there was no fighting Fate.
Harry truly could feel that the moment to return had arrived, even if he had his reservations of doing so.
"Then we will accompany you," Helga decided.
She seemed to be as sceptical as Salazar and Godric, and yet, Harry continued to seem sure.
It wasn't until they approached the lake that Salazar felt that Harry may indeed be right in his belief, and he felt himself filled with a deep sense of worry.
If he was, both he and Morgana would be leaving, and Salazar was not sure if he would see either of them again.
"She doesn't seem to be here. Perhaps…"
Godric broke off as something disturbed the surface of the lake, and Salazar could only stare in a mixture of shock and awe at the ethereal woman looking upon them.
"It's time, isn't it?" Harry asked.
The lady nodded solemnly.
"It is time, Harry Potter," she said quietly, yet her voice seemed to come from all around them. "I will take you both where you will be needed."
Harry merely offered the three of them a smile before stepping into the lake, having seemingly been preparing for this very moment for some time now.
"We will be back," Morgana promised, pulling Salazar into a tight embrace before following her husband.
"Will you?"
Salazar's gaze shifted towards the lady, whose gaze shifted towards the sky.
"If the stars will it, they will return."
With that, they vanished beneath the surface of the water, and the three remaining founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly simply watched until the final ripple of disturbance was gone.
"He'll be back," Godric murmured. "We all know he will be back."
Both Salazar and Helga nodded, even if they weren't entirely convinced that was the truth of the matter.
Still, there was nothing else they could do but wait and see if another great storm would bring about such a thing.
(Break)
"What do you think is happening?" Hermione asked worriedly.
Ron shrugged.
"Dunno."
"Are you not at all worried, Ronald? There wasn't supposed to be a meeting tonight!"
Ron frowned before shrugging once more.
"It's not as though we will be told until it's all over with, is it?" he returned. "It's probably nothing."
Hermione shook her head before looking towards Fred, George, and Ginny.
"I don't think it's nothing."
The twins shook their heads.
"No, something is happening," George replied.
"Something big. You heard them panicking, even if we could not hear what was being said. Shame we ran out of extendable ears. What do you think is going on?"
"I don't know," Hermione sighed, "but it isn't a normal attack that they're responding to. Whatever is happening is something that Dumbledore has been aware of."
"How do you know that?"
"Because they all came here," Hermione pointed out. "They were expecting whatever it is."
(Break)
He eyed the prophecy resting on the shelf, tilting his head in curiosity as he took in the glow which meant it was indeed still active.
It had been rather simple to enter the Department of Mysteries with Augustus providing him with the instructions on how to do so, but this place was not mean for the average man.
The Dark Lord could sense the odd magicks permeating the air, and were he not so self-assured of his own skills, he might feel a little concerned about some of the things he could feel the presence of.
Death was one of the prevalent things here, and though he no longer had a reason to fear such a thing, it remained an unsettling feeling.
"My Lord, Dumbledore and the Order have arrived!" the breathless Lucius called.
The Dark Lord nodded as he took the prophecy.
"Then kill them, Lucius," he instructed with a smirk.
His priority was ensuring he escaped with the prophecy, so he would waste no unnecessary time taunting Dumbledore and the others. No, there was nothing to be gained from doing such, and he'd brought more than enough of his followers to keep them occupied whilst he withdrew.
Not wasting a moment, he took his leave of the Hall of Prophecies and ignored the ensuing chaos unfolding around him as he passed through the largest of the rooms in the Department he'd seen for himself.
Making his way up the stone steps, he could not ignore the urge to take just a moment to watch as the Order floundered in their attempt to fend off his Death Eaters.
Many of them would die, and if the Dark lord was fortunate, Dumbledore with them.
With a chuckle to himself, he left the room, only to pause as he reached the atrium.
"You choose to confront me when your people are dying below, Dumbledore?" he asked with a frown.
The older man emerged from one of the fireplaces, his expression as stony as the Dark Lord had ever seen, even when he'd been confronted about opening the Chamber of Secrets when he'd been but a boy.
"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," Dumbledore said gravely, readying his wand.
The Dark Lord shook his head as he followed suit.
"You cannot still believe you can best me, Dumbledore," he sighed. "It was foolish for you to come here, and now, you will die!"
(Break)
Being outnumbered by the Death Eaters was nothing new for the Order of the Phoenix, but not by such a considerable margin that each of them were attempting to fight against four or five foes at once.
Still, they did fight knowing that Voldemort could not be allowed to leave with the prophecy, though Sirius suspected it would all be in vain.
Despite the Order having the better witches and wizards, the numbers would soon prove to be insurmountable.
Even so he continued to trade spells with Malfoy, Nott, Goyle, and Macnair, doing his utmost not to fall victim to the never-ending onslaught being sent his way.
"It's not good," Tonks said breathlessly as she fought off the Lestrange brothers and Fenrir Greyback. "Sirius, we're going to die here if we don't get out."
Sirius nodded his agreement.
Any hope he'd had that Pettigrew would be amongst the Dark Lord's followers had all but evaporated as they'd been inundated by robed and masked figures the moment they'd entered the large antechamber.
Not so far away, he could see Remus and Arthur Weasley struggling in their own fight, and Emmeline Vance had already been killed by Bellatrix, who had shifted her attention towards Kingsley, who had taken out half a dozen Death Eaters himself.
Despite such a success, it would all be for nothing soon enough, and Sirius pondered just how they might make it out of here.
"DUCK!"
He flet himself being pulled unceremoniously to the hard stone floor and winced as something searingly hot passed over him.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Sirius groaned, rolling away and pushing himself to his feet, ready to offer a rebuttal.
However, instead of casting a spell, his eyes widened at the sight of the many Death Eaters doing all they could to fend off dozens upon dozens of fiery birds diving towards them from the ceiling above, and as Sirius's gaze shifted towards the ominous veil only a short distance away, his breath hitched in his lungs.
"Who are they?" Tonks asked frantically, ducking as another bird came a little too close for comfort.
"I-I don't know," Sirius whispered, wincing as the man leapt forward, drawing a sword and removing the head of one of the Death Eaters.
When he was done, he raised his wand and seemingly pointed it at Sirius, but the spell missed, and a scream followed.
Sirius turned to see Lucius Malfoy on the ground, clutching a stump where his hand used to be, but by the time he'd shifted his attention back to the man, he was fending off an attack from Antonin Dolohov.
"Don't just stand there!" Tonks called.
Sirius nodded, pulling his focus from the man and seizing the miraculous advantage they'd been granted, landing a searing curse on the leg of Rabastan Lestrange, and doing his utmost to maintain his concentration, still wondering just who the man and woman were who had seemingly appeared from nowhere.
(Break)
"Is he here?" Morgana asked, shielding herself from a curse sent towards her by a furious woman whose mask had been half burned from her face.
"Somewhere above us," Harry replied, directing his flaming crows towards a group of other mask figures.
"Then go get him," Morgana urged. "This lot will be running soon enough."
Harry shot a questioning look towards her, and Morgana replied with a pointed one of her own.
"Go! I can handle this."
Harry nodded and ran towards the stone steps on the opposite side of the room whilst Morgana swept up some of the rocky debris that had been created by the fighting here.
With a wave of her wand, she set them ablaze and began hurling them towards the robed and masked people, who were attempting to regroup.
Following up with a flurry of curses, she was rewarded by the sound of a pained howling, and two others dropped dead to the ground with their throats torn away from their necks.
With a nod to herself, she sent a blasting curse towards the ceiling above the staircase Harry had taken to ensure none could follow him, and stalked forwards, brandishing her wand like a whip, unleashing another onslaught of spells towards the taken aback attackers.
They'd been very much in control of the situation as she and Harry had arrived through the eerie veil, but that could not be any different now.
They were scrambling to regain any kind of advantage, and despite their greater numbers, they were failing miserably.
Evidently, they'd not expected to be met with any significant resistance, and they hadn't until she and Harry had arrived.
"PORTKEYS!"
"NO, THE DARK LORD NEEDS US!" a woman screamed in response.
Morgana could only shake her head as she continued with her efforts, and another four of them dropped.
Only a moment later, her targets proved their mettle and began vanishing one by one until only a few remained.
"COWARDS!" the woman screamed, looking around and realising how significantly the advantage had shifted.
With a vengeful glare towards Morgana, she and the others vanished in a plume of black smoke, but Morgana stayed vigilant, ready to defend herself if necessary.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" another woman demanded, her hair changing from a brilliant pink, and cycling through several other colours before settling on an electric blue.
"That can wait," Morgana grumbled. "You need to help me clear the way so I can reach my husband."
"Your husband?"
Morgana merely nodded before beginning the process of shifting the vast quantities of stone in the way of the exit, determined to reach Harry.
"Let's help her," a redheaded man encouraged. "She and her husband saved our lives."
Morgana nodded appreciatively as the gathered group did so, ignoring the looks of curiosity and even suspicion they sent towards her.
(Break)
Either Tom had become even stronger in the intervening years since they'd last crossed wands, or Albus was indeed becoming a victim to the ravages of time.
Even in the magical world sixteen years was a long time, and Albus was far from being at his very best.
He was in his advanced years now, and Tom was just entering his prime, something that became clearer the longer their duel continued. Still, the Headmaster stood his ground, unwilling to allow his former student to take what he'd come here for.
Despite this, Albus knew he was truly in a fight for his life.
Tom was throwing everything he could muster at him, and Albus was struggling to survive. Already, Fawkes had appeared in the path of a killing curse, and Tom barely seemed to be warming up.
Albus looked on as the Dark Lord smirked, and the headmaster struck first, firing a stream of fire towards his foe before sweeping the man up in a sphere of water from the nearby fountain.
Spinning him mercilessly, Albus hoped he might just have done enough to get the better of Tom, only to balk as the man dispelled the water, sending it cascading across the floor.
Sodden wet, Riddle narrowed his red eyes at Albus and bellowed as he raised his wand.
The glass from the windows above exploded outwards, but before the shards could shower them and the ground below, Voldemort paused them in mid-air briefly and sent them towards Albus with finality.
The Dark Lord grinned as Albus raised his wand, but before he could perform a counter, the shards paused and turned back towards the confused Tom.
Whistling through the air, they careened towards Riddle with the very same intent, and though he managed to defend himself with a hastily conjured shield that reduced the glass to sand, it came to his detriment.
The entire atrium shook violently as a large fissure tore across the floor towards Riddle, and the granite was spewed in all directions, sending Tom sprawling to avoid the projectiles.
Albus was taken aback by the intrusion, but no more so as Voldemort who immediately sprung to his feet, his eyes fixed on the man that entered the atrium without either noticing his presence.
The headmaster balked as he took in the man's features.
Despite the disbelief he felt, Albus recognised him immediately.
He may be a man grown with a beard to boot, but the burning green eyes boring a hole fearless hole into the Dark Lords could only belong to one person.
He didn't know how, or what had happened, but Albus was left in no doubt as to who had arrived.
"Potter?" Voldemort whispered, his eyes widening in surprise.
Harry said nothing as he continued to walk towards Tom without hesitation.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Harry shook his head as he used a piece of the discarded granite to intercept the spell.
"It's not so easy when I'm no longer a helpless child, is it, Tom?" he asked almost amusedly. "Now, let me show you some of my tricks."
Albus felt his hair stand on end as Harry unleashed a barrage of spells, each of them slamming into Tom's conjured shield with enough force to send him back a few feet.
The magic in the air crackled violently as Harry wielded it, and the atrium itself was being torn to shreds under the strain.
Tom was utterly perplexed by how the situation had developed, and Albus idly noticed the arrival of dozens of people via the fireplaces in the corner of his eye, though he could not bring himself to look away from what was unfolding in front of him.
Although Tom was trying to fight back, he'd evidently been unprepared to face such adversity, and Harry did not allow him to find his footing.
"Ah, you're going to run now," Harry chuckled as the Dark Lord continued to do all he could to defend himself. "Go if you're going. I will find you again soon enough."
Tom was seething, and as his gaze flittered towards the mute gathering of Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, and the several other Ministry officials, he smirked, though it lacked its usual smugness Albus remembered.
"Until we meet again, Harry Potter," he spat venomously before vanishing in a cloud of black smoke.
"No!" Albus groaned. "He has…"
Harry shook his head, cutting him off and patting his pocket conspiratorially.
"He has nothing."
Albus could only nod as he took in the man's appearance.
"How?" he asked.
Before Harry could answer, they were interrupted by the arrival of a woman, who threw her arms around his neck.
"Are you hurt?" she asked.
"No, I'm not hurt," Harry chuckled, "but now isn't the time to worry about that," he added with a frown.
"That was…"
"Yes, Cornelius, it was," Albus said irritably to the approaching Minister of Magic. "Just as I have been saying all along."
Fudge said nothing as he looked towards Harry, who frowned unhappily at the man.
"You're…?"
"Not very coherent for a politician, is he?" Harry grumbled.
"I believe the Minister is in a state of shock. He will recover soon enough. Perhaps we should give him some time to do so."
Harry nodded, pausing as he turned to leave as he came face to face with another man who was rarely as silent as he was now.
"Harry?" Sirius whispered.
"Hello, Sirius," Harry returned.
Albus could only look on in his own continuous state of disbelief.
Harry was an inch or so taller than Sirius, and just as broad as his father had been.
Somehow, he was now a man grown, something he'd proven only a moment ago.
Albus was most curious as to how what had happened had come to be, but he too needed to process the shock he felt, along with every other person in the atrium staring at Harry Potter in a state of disbelief.