Comeuppance
Wizengamot to Continue Deliberations
By Rita Skeeter
After what can only be described as a tumultuous meeting of the Wizengamot yesterday, which resulted in the failure of the next Minister of Magic being named, it is understood that deliberations will continue until the successor of current Minister, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, is appointed.
Due to the inability of the Wizengamot to reach a majority conclusion, it has been decided that the next gathering will be held behind closed doors, so that the members of the media are unable to influence the outcome.
No member of the Wizengamot was available to comment on the current proceedings, but an announcement is expected to be made in due course.
The article was a brief as it was truthful, and Harry flung the cope of The Daily Prophet onto the table in disgust.
Riddle had already taken steps to silence the media, and with as much confusion surrounding what had transpired at the Ministry as there was, many would believe that all was well in Britain.
The truth was harrowing, and it certainly did not help that the media were being as cowardly as ever.
The people deserved to know that Tom had taken control, and that they were closer to losing the war than they ever had been before.
During the first conflict, the Ministry had managed to prevent being fully taken over by the Dark Lord, but this time, Tom had succeeded rather spectacularly.
Harry could not deny the begrudging respect he felt for such a coup.
It had been a brilliant move on Tom's part, but he would ensure it was short-lived.
Still, he remained unsure what could be done, but as he waited for the members of the Order of the Phoenix to arrive, he tapped his finger impatiently atop the kitchen table.
"They won't take it well," Sirius murmured. "To this lot, Albus is like a god."
Harry chuckled humourlessly as he shook his head.
"Then they're bloody idiots if they believe that."
Sirius nodded his agreement, and he, his godfather, and Remus remained silent until Kingsley entered the room some moments later, followed by Tonks, and Morgana, who had ventured to Hogwarts to take a look at Dumbledore for herself.
Offering Harry only a shake of her head, she took a seat next to him.
"Questions are being asked," Kingsley declared, "but few are willing to believe the truth when we tell them."
"Ignorance is bliss," Harry pointed out. "Most will not wish to acknowledge what has happened until it is too late."
The Auror nodded his agreement before yawning.
"What of Bones?" Harry asked.
"In hiding in an undisclosed location. She has taken Scrimgeour with her. The two of them will be fine."
"Good," Harry replied, shifting his attention towards the door as the Weasleys entered, along with Elphias Doge, Sturgis Podmore, and finally, Hagrid, who took up three seats next to Morgana.
"Any idea where Snape is?" Harry questioned.
"He's not been seen, Harry," Hagrid answered, "but it's not unusual for him to be missing for several days at a time."
Harry frowned as he nodded thoughtfully.
"What of Albus?" Molly asked worriedly.
Harry released a deep breath.
"He is not well," he answered. "For now, we will have to do without him until he can be stabilised and treated."
"Was he cursed?"
"No, it is much worse," Harry said dismissively, "but it is something I will be remedying as quickly as I can."
"And who put you in charge?" Podmore asked.
"No one, and I have no intention of taking charge of you all. I have no use for untrained and unprepared people getting in my way."
Sturgis scoffed.
"I was fighting against him before you were born, boy!" he snapped.
"And how well did you do, Podmore?" Harry returned evenly. "How many times have you fought him? As a matter of fact, how many real battles have you been in? You're no warrior. Only Kingsley and Tonks here have any real training, and I know Remus can handle himself well enough. The last time I saw the lot of you fighting, you were on the cusp of being bloody killed! You have no business in battle. Most of you don't have the stomach for it!"
"Someone has to stand against them!"
"Everyone has to," Harry agreed, "but most have no place fighting him. For now, Dumbledore is out of commission, and if you were smart, you would keep your damned heads down."
No said anything, and Harry took his seat once more.
"Sorry, I'm late, I was in Knockturn Alley," Mundungus Fletcher announced as he entered the kitchen.
Harry detested the man.
He had no doubt Fletcher could be useful, when it suited him, but he was not to be trusted under any circumstances, and he reeked of stale smoke and cheap booze.
"What did I miss?" the odious man asked.
"Just that Dumbledore is hurt, and that Potter here thinks he's in charge," Doge answered.
Harry snorted as he shook his head.
"No," he disagreed. "Since you want to be a snarky little shit, you're in charge of the Order whilst Albus is unavailable, but if you decide to act like a bloody hero, I will not be coming to save you again. I have more than enough to be getting on with."
He left the kitchen, and was followed by Morgana, Sirius, Remus, and Hagrid.
"They won't do anything," Sirius assured him. "Not without Dumbledore."
"They won't," Tonks agreed as she exited the kitchen, followed by Kingsley. "They're just hot air, and they're scared. You know how they all see him. They already think we have lost the war."
"Well, we're not so far off," Harry huffed. "Unless I can get into the Ministry and take it back, it might well be over no matter what we do."
"You have a plan?" Sirius asked.
"I do, but it is something I have to do alone. Riddle will be expecting a retaliation, and it is best that he doesn't even know it has happened until it is too late."
"You can't do it alone, Harry," Sirius protested.
"Believe me, it is safer this way. Anyone coming along will just be in my way. You have to trust me on this, Sirius."
The man nodded reluctantly, and Morgana quirked an eyebrow at him.
Fortunately, Amelia had returned his cloak, and though he'd not given it much thought since removing it from Dumbledore, he did somehow possess the elder wand.
Perhaps it would be best if he explored it further.
He did not wish to come to rely on it only for the damned thing not to work for him, after all, and given what he intended to do, a second wand might just prove to be rather useful.
"Well, before you do that, there is something else you should see," Morgana sighed.
"Oh, did Myrddin arrive through the veil as well?" Harry grumbled irritably.
"No, but it's just as serious."
"Don't do it," Harry warned as his godfather opened his mouth to speak.
"I wasn't going to, not with this. Come," Sirius urged. "I'll send for Kreacher."
Harry frowned at the man, who shook his head in response.
Evidently, this was not a conversation to be had in front of Tonks, Kingsley, or Remus, given how secretive and concerned both Morgana and Sirius were.
(Break)
'Harry is right. He must be kept unconscious. He has been significantly weakened by the influx of magic, which means that the Dark Lord might just be able fully possess him.'
'Is he safe whilst he is asleep?' Minerva asked.
Morgana nodded.
'As safe as he can be. If he is an accomplished occlumens, he should be fine. It would be more dangerous for him to be awake where he would be aware of the physical trauma he has sustained.'
After Morgana had left, Minerva had taken a seat by the bed the headmaster was occupying and had been pondering the years she'd spent under his tutelage and employ.
"He will be well," Poppy assured her. "Potter will find a way."
"I do hope so," Minerva sighed. "Is there no sign of Severus? I sent for him hours ago."
"Nothing yet. You know what he is like."
"I do, but he would be here for Albus now. I fear something is deeply wrong."
"With Severus? There are many things wrong with Severus Snape, Minerva, but he has as much a proclivity for getting himself out of trouble as Mr Potter."
Minerva nodded her agreement.
She had never been particularly fond of Severus.
He'd spent too much time trying to impress the pureblood students of his house during his formative years here, and as a result, had made several enemies, mostly through his own doing.
He'd gone on to serve the Dark Lord, and even now, despite Albus's faith in the man, she could not bring herself to trust him.
Severus had become very bitter over the years, something that had only become more apparent the moment he laid eyes on Harry Potter.
Still, Severus only had himself to blame for all that had befallen him.
Yes, James Potter had been a pain in the backside, but Snape had not been innocent in the many exchanges the two shared over the years.
On more than one occasion they'd sent one another to the Hospital Wing, and it wasn't until they parted ways at graduation that the hostility came to an end.
Even so, Minerva did not doubt that had the two of met once more, that rivalry would've resumed.
Perhaps that was why Severus had treated Harry so poorly.
He certainly resembled his father, and that could not have been easy for the potions master to come to terms with.
Nonetheless, taking out his own bitterness and frustration on an innocent boy had been a rather pathetic show of childishness.
Not that he could do so anymore.
Harry Potter was no longer a helpless boy, and Severus would do well to remember that.
Shaking her head of her thoughts, Minerva tightened her grip on Albus's hand.
The only sign that he yet lived was the warmth still radiating from him, and the gentle rising and falling of his chest whilst he rested.
Still, she wondered what internal turmoil he was dealing with.
If the Dark Lord had indeed attempted to possess him, it was quite possible his mind was suffering more than his outwardly peaceful appearance showed.
It was an unpleasant consideration, but one Minerva could not ignore.
All she could do, for now, was keep the man as comfortable as possible and unconscious until his condition had been remedied.
(Break)
Albus did his utmost to avoid the deepest recesses of his mind.
It was where, as a young man who'd mastered Occlumency, he'd chosen to push his most traumatic of memories, and even some of his very best so that he need not ponder the turmoil he'd endured.
Being here, now, however, was his only place of safety as Tom continued to try to invade his very conscience.
Fortunately, Harry had acted quickly by rendering him unconscious.
Here, Tom could not take control of him, but Albus could not deny the torture he was enduring reliving the memories of years gone by.
He watched as his father was taken away by the Aurors for attacking the muggles that had harmed Ariana, and even the many, many hours he and Gellert had spent plotting their takeover of the wizarding world.
It had all seemed innocent.
Even now, Albus failed to see the malicious intent in the stunning blue eyes of the man he'd adored, but it was there.
Perhaps he simply chose to remain ignorant of it, but no matter, his earlier, even fonder memories would not change what had occurred in the years that followed.
He watched as his mother perished before his very eyes and found himself shedding yet more tears for the woman.
For so long after, he'd been resentful of the woman, bitter at her death because it had meant that Albus had been unable to pursue what he'd believed to be his destiny.
Of course, the death of Kendra Dumbledore had been something of a blessing in disguise.
Had she not passed when she did, the wizarding world could be a very different place indeed.
Albus had been blind to Gellert's true intentions, and as he perused the memories he had shared with the man, he could not be certain that he would've seen it in time to act as he eventually had.
Still, he had done so too late.
Many thousands had died whilst he'd avoided confronting Gellert, and that was one of the many crimes Albus carried the guilt fort.
'You cannot hide forever, Dumbledore…'
The voice was spoke almost serpent-like, and it made Albus shudder, though it failed to distract him from what he found himself confronting now.
When it came to magic, he had always been just that little cleverer than Gellert, that little faster, and more powerful, but he had never been able to compete with Gellert's mind, his charisma, and self-belief.
On the battlefield, the Elder Wand had made them quite even, but Albus had emerged victorious, even if it had not felt like it.
Upon imprisoning the Dark Lord, he'd returned to Hogwarts to resume his penance of guilt and sorrow, wanting nothing more than to be allowed to live out his years in the confines of the castle.
The world, however, had not allowed that.
Position after position had been thrust upon, and his fame only grew.
It wasn't for several years that he'd learned to embrace it, and that doing so had brought him less attention.
Of course, he remained a figure of interest, but he was allowed to live in somewhat peace, with his regrets and guilt for company, something that would only return to haunt him with the rise of Tom Riddle.
Albus had never been equipped to handle the unpleasantness of war, but yet again, the world had looked to him to solve the problem.
Little did they all know that the prophecy had taken away any hope that it would be Albus to rid Britain of the new Dark Lord.
It had spoken of a boy yet to be born, and then along came Harry Potter.
Once more, Albus had made his mistakes when it came to doing what was right and what was easy.
Upon the death of his parents, Albus had placed the boy with his muggle aunt and uncle.
An error on his part.
It had been the easy option, and in hindsight, Harry should never have been left with the Dursleys.
No.
There were many families that would've taken the babe in, and would've seen him grow into a strong, confident young man.
For that to happen, Harry had needed to endure yet more upheaval.
Still, despite this, Albus could not deny that Harry had emerged from it to be what would indeed be needed.
Nonetheless, the guilt he carried for all of the mistakes he'd made in life still weighed heavily upon him, and what he carried for Harry was no less than any of the others.
'Dumbledore…'
Albus shook his head.
'There is no place in here for you, Tom," he replied. 'I tried to change you, to help you become something better. You chose a different path.'
A part of him wanted to feel guilty for the boy he'd met in the orphanage, but Albus could not bring himself to do so.
Tom Riddle had been given opportunity upon opportunity to be something better than he'd begun, but he had made his choices and had crossed a line he could not come back from at the age of sixteen.
'Dumbledore…'
Albus released a deep breath as the voice continued to persist.
There was nothing Tom could do to him here that was worse than he was already enduring, and as he watched the death of his mother for the umpteenth time, he shed yet another tear, wishing he'd not made so many mistakes.
(Break)
"So, it was definitely Tom then," Harry murmured as he eyed the locket with distaste.
The one belonging to his wife was her most prized possession, and to see what had become of it here irked him considerably.
"What do you mean?" Morgana asked.
Harry released a deep sigh.
"Somewhere along the line, the necklace, and something belonging to Helena came into the possession of Hepzibah Smith. She was one of Helga's descendants, and she purchased the locket from Borgin and Burke's. That's a shop in Knockturn Alley," he added for clarification for Morgana's sake. "Riddle worked there for a short while, but vanished suddenly, and shortly after Hepzibah was murdered. Her house-elf admitted to doing it, so the Ministry didn't look too closely. The only things missing from her home…"
"Were the locket and whatever belonged to Helga," Morgana finished.
Harry nodded as he continued to eye the locket.
"Tom's mother, Merope, had the locket, and a ring belonging to Salazar. She was a descendant of him, but her father and brother found themselves in Azkaban. Both are dead now, and Merope died giving birth to Tom, but not before selling the locket to Burke for ten galleons."
"That thieving bastard!" Sirius cursed. "It's bloody priceless."
"As Dumbledore said to me, Burke wasn't known for his generosity. He saw an opportunity, and took it, but Tom discovered that Hepzibah Smith owned something belonging to Salazar and wanted it for himself."
"And Helga," Morgana reminded him.
Harry frowned at the thought but nodded.
"That means the cup is likely a Horcrux too," he murmured, slowly piecing together a deeply unpleasant puzzle in his mind, "and maybe even the Gaunt ring. Merope did not sell that Burke, and from what Albus could gather, she didn't possess it. Morfin Gaunt did before he went to jail, but he died inside Azkaban before being released. It would've been given to Morfin, if someone within the Ministry didn't steal it."
"No," Sirius broke in. "If it was a family ring belonging to the head, they would not be able to. There are blood protections on those preventing petty theft."
Harry hummed thoughtfully.
"Then it is either buried with Morfin Gaunt, or…"
"Tom found a way to steal it."
"When he was sixteen," Harry declared. "He framed his uncle for the murder of his muggle family, and as Morfin admitted to it…"
"The Ministry didn't look to closely," Sirius finished.
"And it didn't help that Morfin had form for the same bloody thing."
"So, you think Riddle has it?" Morgana asked.
Harry nodded.
"I would bet he turned it into a Horcrux too," he replied. "He would've come into possession of it before both the necklace and cup, and the ring represents his magical family, something he is very proud of."
"But why the cup?" Sirius asked. "He's not related to Hufflepuff."
Harry snorted humourlessly as he pondered the question.
"Because it belonged to one of the Founders. Somehow, Tom believe Hogwarts is rightfully his because Salazar helped build it. He would think the very same thing of anything connected to the school."
"He's bloody mad," Sirius grumbled, shaking his head.
"He is," Harry agreed, "but his madness gives us something to work with. It gives us at least an idea of what else he might've sought out to use for his Horcruxes, but we must first figure out how many he made."
"Well, that won't be easy."
"No," Harry agreed, "and that is something we will have to come back to. Saving Dumbledore has to be the priority for now. The rest can wait for a short while. It's not as though we are going to figure it out standing here. We need more information, and as well as I know the bloody git, Dumbledore knows him a little better in ways I do not. Don't worry, we will figure it out," he assured Morgana.
The woman nodded as looked towards the locket.
"Are you going to destroy it?" she asked.
Harry nodded.
"You know as well as I do that it has to be destroyed. It's the only way to be rid of the soul piece being housed by it."
Morgana nodded her agreement, and Harry cast a few further charms on the locket before stowing it away within his robes.
"So, what next?" Sirius asked. "Are you really going to the Ministry?"
"It's the only way," Harry sighed. "I need to break the connection between the protections of the Ministry and Albus."
"What do you need me to do?" Morgana asked.
Harry frowned before deciding what would be most useful.
"I want you to pay a visit to Burke. Sirius, you go with her. He has memories of Riddle, and I would have all of them I can get my hands on, It might be for nothing, but it may just prove to be worthwhile."
"We can do that," his godfather assured him.
"Good," Harry declared. "I do not know how long I will be, but I will get a message to you if things go to shit."
"I'll be waiting," Morgana replied before placing a lingering kiss on his lips. "I would tell you not to do anything stupid, but we both know that would be useless."
Harry chuckled amusedly as he made his way towards the door.
"One day, we will be living a very boring life, and you'll miss all of this."
Morgana shook her head.
"I'd miss you more if you don't come back."
"I will," Harry promised her. "Always."
With that, he took his leave of Grimmauld Place and paused as he stepped onto the step outside the front door.
Although he could not see them, nor they him, Harry did not doubt that house was being watched, and he decided that upon his return, it was something he would quickly put an end to.
Still, before then, and even before he would make his way to the Ministry, there was something else he wished to do first. More to satiate his curiosity, but also because he would perhaps find a little much-needed inspiration before exploring the odd relationship he seemed to share with the wand he'd taken from Dumbledore.
(Break)
"Well, it's as secure as I can make it without breaking the law," Bill declared, wiping the sweat from his brow. "They won't get in so easy next time."
Mr Weasley clapped his eldest son on the shoulder, and Hermione looked fondly at the Burrow.
Some of her favourite memories of being with Harry and Ron had been spent here, and to think it had almost been destroyed by the Death Eaters was a deeply disturbing thought.
Not quite as disturbing as what had happened the previous day, however.
Although little seemed to have changed, she could feel it on the very wind.
With Voldemort in control of the Wizengamot, there was no telling what would happen next.
"It's only going to get worse, isn't it?" Ron asked nervously.
Hermione nodded.
"Much worse," she sighed. "This is just the beginning of how bad it can get, Ron. During the first war, even family members could no longer trust each other. No one knows who is following him, who is fighting against him, and who is just trying to keep out of it. Voldemort will sow as many seeds of discontent and suspicion as possible. He has the Ministry. The only thing worse would be if he manages to take Hogwarts."
"Nah, he won't be able to do that. Dumbledore…"
"Is hurt," Hermione pointed out. "You heard it as clearly as I did."
"Then Harry."
Hermione nodded sadly.
"Harry," she agreed.
She felt next to helpless to do anything for the war effort.
She'd grown so used to Harry and Ron needing her when things got difficult, but the former had not sought her assistance once since he'd returned.
He had Morgana, who had certainly proved to be an incredible witch in her own right, but Harry had become rather independent.
He didn't need Hermione like he once had, and though she missed the quiet, uncertain boy he'd once been, a part of her was relieved he'd grown to be the man he was.
The world certainly needed him, now more than ever.
"Are we going back to Grimmauld Place?" Ron asked Mr Weasley.
The man nodded tiredly.
"It is the safest place we can be for now. The Dark Lord might just decide to return here. He does not take kindly to failure."
"Can he get in?"
"I expect he could get into Hogwarts if he was truly determined," Mr Weasley said gravely. "Bill has done an excellent job that will keep most out."
"Just not him," Ron said irritably.
"Just not him," Mr Weasley agreed. "Come. Perhaps there is news waiting for us."
Only a moment later, they apparated away from the Burrow, not knowing if they would see it again as it stood now.
(Break)
"Well, shit," Harry cursed as he peered at the corpse that had been crudely tied to the front gates of the castle.
Snape had suffered an unpleasant demise.
He'd bled heavily from several bite wounds all over his exposed torso, and the word Mudblood had been roughly carved into his chest.
Evidently, Tom had lost what little faith he had in Snape and had decided to be rid of the man.
Harry could only shake his head as he continued to inspect the wounds, removing a long, curved fang from one of them.
"Snake," he murmured thoughtfully. "A magical snake that shouldn't be magical," he added confusedly, pocketing the fang with the intention of showing it to Morgana.
With a sigh, he sent a patronus to the castle.
With Dumbledore unavailable, it was Professor McGonagall who needed to be made aware of this development, and it was only a few moments later that Harry saw the woman emerge from the school.
She paused some distance away as she spotted the pale, limp form of the potions professor, and pressed her hand over her mouth.
"It wasn't me," Harry assured her. "I still hate the git, and I'm not sorry he's dead, but I wouldn't have done this."
Professor McGonagall said nothing as she approached and tapped the gat carefully with her wand.
Still, she said nothing as she exited the grounds and looked upon the remains of Severus Snape.
"Albus will be devastated," she eventually murmured. "He was an unpleasant man, Potter, but not terrible."
"Maybe not to you," Harry replied. "He was a bastard to me, all because he and my father despised each other. I won't shed a tear for him."
With a shake of his head, Harry stepped past his former Head of House and made his way towards the lake.
He didn't care what had become of Snape, but he would not revel in his murder.
For whatever reasons Harry had not been made privy to, Snape had detested him before they'd even met and had gone out of his way to make his life as miserable as possible.
As far as Harry was concerned, he'd reaped what he'd sown, and he'd meant it when he said he wouldn't shed a tear for him. If anything, it felt somehow right that the man had met his end the way he had.
The same, however, could not be said for Rowena, and as he reached the edge of the lake, he felt more than a little nervousness fill him.
What if she wasn't here?
Swallowing deeply, he drew his wand and began murmuring under his breath, smiling sadly as the monument he'd helped build rose from the ground at the edge of the water.
This tribute to her was different, however.
There was no little crow resting on the shoulder of the woman looking towards the stars above, and where the sun would rise come morning.
Still, he felt as close to Rowena as he ever did when he visited her, and though he was still at a loss at what he would do when he arrived at the Ministry of Magic, he felt at peace with whatever was to come just by being here.
(Break)
"Merlin, it didn't take this place long to go to the dogs," Sirius grumbled, frowning as he spoke. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?" Morgana replied as she continued watching the small shop only a short distance away.
"Whenever someone says Merlin, both you and Harry cringe."
"Because Myrddin is probably the most unpleasant and dangerous man where we live," Morgana answered. "Harry has to stop him from merging the muggle and magical worlds, and after what I have seen here, it is of the utmost importance."
"Wait, Merlin is really bad? I thought Harry was joking when he said that."
Morgana nodded.
"His actions will either result in a most terrible war in the future, magicals being beholden to muggles, or a Dark Lord like Voldemort ruling over them. It's impossible to say which, but our worlds must be kept apart, and Myrddin is determined to intertwine them by any means necessary. He is a terrible man, Sirius, so, whenever he is mentioned in a way the muggles mention their god, it does not sit right with us."
"Then I will try not to do it," Sirius promised. "Any idea how you're going to handle this?" he added, nodding towards Borgin and Burke's.
"I have my ways," Morgana replied darkly, stepping forward, only to be pulled back by Sirius.
"What is it?"
"Bellatrix," Sirius whispered, pointing towards the woman walking so brazenly down the length of the alley. "What is she doing here?"
They watched as the woman entered the shop, and all was quiet for several moments until a flash of green light illuminated the windows.
Bellatrix left only a moment later, and set the building ablaze with a flick of her wand, laughing as she all but skipped away from the inferno.
"Great," Sirius cursed irritably as the alley began to fill with an array of men, women, and various human-like creatures. "Come on, we'd best not linger. We'll be spotted if we do. Borgin is dead, so there's no reason to stay here. Harry will have to find another way of learning what he wants to."
"Riddle arranged this," Morgana huffed.
Sirius nodded.
"He wouldn't want any loose ends. He always found a way of tidying everything up. Just look at what he did to my brother, and he was one of his most loyal followers. Let's go."
The two of them apparated away and arrived a moment later in one of the drawing rooms of Grimmauld Place, where Sirius peered out of the window.
"Are they still there?"
"They are," Sirius confirmed.
Harry had sent a warning about the house being watched, and thus far, they had counted no less than a dozen people lurking in the vicinity. Of course, they couldn't see the home itself, but Sirius didn't doubt that either Bellatrix or Narcissa had realised they could no longer find the home they'd spent much of their youth in.
Undoubtedly, they had figured out that Grimmauld Place was being used by the Order, and although they couldn't physically get to them here, Voldemort would want those within to feel intimidated.
"Harry will get rid of them soon enough," Morgana declared.
"You don't seem so concerned about him going to the Ministry."
Morgana shook her head.
"I'm not. I have every faith in my husband. He will do what he must, and he'll be back."
"Have you ever thought about what it would be like if he doesn't?"
Morgana's expression darkened, and Sirius felt a chill pass through him.
"If anything was to happen to my Harry, Voldemort would be the least of anyone's worries. "I will tear Britain down piece by piece until all was right, but that will not happen," she added sweetly. "Harry will be back soon enough."
Sirius could only nod in response.
Morgana was a terrifying woman in her own unique way.
Bellatrix was little more than a gifted psycho, but Morgana was almost the opposite.
She was talented and seemingly in possession of her full faculties, but she loved Harry so deeply that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.
It was as admirable as it was frightening, and Sirius pitied anyone who ever found themselves on the receiving end of her ire.
He'd seen her with a wand in her hand and what she was capable of, and though he thought himself to be a rather capable wizard himself, he would not relish being stood opposite the woman so casually pouring herself a cup of wine after speaking so candidly of destroying an entire country.
(Break)
'Fortunately, the office of the Minister of Magic is on the first floor, but it is usually heavily guarded. I expect much of the same if the Dark Lord knows it is where the protections of the building can be found.'
"Of course it bloody is," Harry muttered, remembering the brief conversation he'd had with Arthur Weasley.
He shook his head as he watched the phone box from afar.
It was not an entrance he could use, and his only hope was to either pose as someone else entirely or sneak his way into the Ministry.
If he was as talented as Morgana in the art of self-transfiguration, perhaps the former would work, but Harry simply was not.
He did, however, have something that might prove to be invaluable, and as he removed his cloak from within his probes, he chuckled humourlessly to himself.
"Come Death, come," he murmured before vanishing into the folds and making his way towards where he could quickly flush his way into the building, hoping the cloak was indeed as undetectable as he'd come to believe.
If even Death could not find someone hiding in it, surely Riddle couldn't.
Harry knew he was putting a lot of faith in the garment, but he knew he had little other choice.
He needed to free Dumbledore from the connection he shared to protections of the Ministry, lest Tom found a way to expose such a thing.
Taking that chance was not an option and as Harry approached what was disguised as a public toilet, he paused briefly to ensure he had everything he would need.
Of course, he had the cloak and his wand, but that only led him to consider the second wand he was carrying up his sleeve.
The Elder Wand, or Deathstick, as it was known by others, was indeed quite the artefact, and Harry was not surprised there were those who'd dedicated their lives to finding it.
With it in his hands, he almost felt invincible, that there was nothing he couldn't achieve.
It was a foolish thought, but the allure of the wand was not negligent.
It called to him, much like his own, but it was done so in its own unique way.
His wand was like a warm embrace but done so with a dagger pressed into his back almost warningly. It was as comforting as it was deadly; something Harry had grown accustomed to over the years.
The Elder wand, however, was more akin to a prowling beast in the shadows, pacing back and forth and waiting to be unleashed upon any who'd dared challenge it.
It seemed to like Harry.
Perhaps it was because he was a battle-hardened warrior in his own right, or it was simply because of the blood that flowed through his veins.
Regardless, it was as though it embraced everything combative about him, and made Harry much more aware of his baser instincts, yet somehow, it still felt as though it heeded him and only him alone.
It was an odd relationship' somewhat volatile, but harmonious at the same time.
It was indeed strange, and although Harry was prepared to face what was waiting for him within the Ministry of Magic, there was the smallest part of him hoping he'd be able to do what was needed without drawing any unwanted attention to himself.