Intruder
"What was that?"
Harry paused as he heard the voice, and two pairs of subsequent footsteps sounded throughout the atrium.
With it being so late at night, much of the building was empty, but Tom had evidently seen fit to place guards throughout the building.
It was a dilemma Harry had weighed up before ultimately deciding to come in the later hours of the evening.
During the day, he would've been covered by the vast amount of people ambling around the Ministry of Magic, but he would've struggled to navigate his way through them using the cloak.
Even reaching the office of the Minister would've been quite the task in itself, but had he done so and triggered an alarm of sorts, then everyone within the building would've been in danger.
Instead, he had opted to come when most had returned home for the evening, and though the risk of being caught before reaching the office was increased exponentially, if something were to go awry, he would not be so limited on how he could escape, or fight if necessary.
"I didn't hear a thing," one of the Death Eaters protested.
Harry remained still as they walked passed him with their wands lit.
They approached the fireplaces, and one of the men shook his head.
"I know I heard something! The Dark Lord does not yet have control of the protections!"
"No, but he has put his own in place," the other replied. "You'd better clean your bloody ears out! Come on, we'd best get back to where we should be. If Yaxley catches us here, he'll be furious."
"Who is supposed to be here?"
The other Death Eater shrugged.
"I don't know, but they won't get here until after midnight."
Their ongoing conversation began to fade as they returned the where they had come from, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he continued on his way.
Even so, the words of the men had not been lost on him, and he treaded carefully, aware that the atrium indeed felt different than when he'd first visited some days ago to first speak with Rufus Scrimgeour.
Tom had gone to great lengths to be alerted to any trespassing here, and yet, although Harry could indeed feel the magic permeating the air, they did not respond to his presence.
Was it the cloak that prevent him being detected?
He could not be certain, but he was not going to waste such a gift, and as he made his way towards where he would find the office he sought, he remained as vigilant as ever, feeling for even the slightest change n the air.
The most noticeable came as he neared the office itself, and he paused once more as he took in the sight of the several guards patrolling the corridors, but it was the sudden chill that seeped into his very core that irked him so.
Dementors.
Although he could not see them, he could certainly feel their presence.
They were within the Ministry of Magic, and Harry did not doubt that should he be detected, they would be upon him in a matter of seconds.
With that in mind, he continued to ponder just how he could access the office without any becoming aware, and he nodded to himself as a plan began to form.
(Break)
Amelia frowned as she discarded the newspapers that had been left on what she hoped would be her temporary desk.
She knew she shouldn't have expected anything different from the media, but to see them fold so quickly under the pressure of the Dark lord was more than a little disconcerting to say the least.
Most fortunately for her and Susan, however, they had been taken in by the Diggorys and were being kept in a guest house Amos had purchased after the first war, just in case his own family had needed to go into hiding.
It was a far from ideal situation, but at least here, Amelia could continue her work.
The Aurors, after all, were loyal only to her and to Rufus, who had been placed with them.
Still, they'd both taken rather extreme measures.
Anyone who wished to see them were subjected to questioning under Veritaserum and were first tested for any other potions or appearance-altering spells.
Such things were highly frowned upon, but given her life had been in danger twice now, in only a matter of days, Amelia was taking no chances.
"They are both clear?" she asked as Rufus poked his head around the door.
"They are," the man confirmed grimly.
"Then show them in."
With all that had happened over the past few days, she'd not had the time to have a discussion with her two aurors as to their involvement with Dumbledore's group.
Had what happened at the Ministry not occurred, Amelia would be less than happy with Tonks and Kingsley.
As Aurors, they were supposed to be neutral when it came to the politics of the Wizengamot and treat each person they came across within the confines of the law.
Given that they were now acting unofficially, such things were rather trivial, but that did not stop Amelia being the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and she needed to satiate her own curiosity, if nothing else.
"You wanted to see us, Madam Bones," Kingsley spoke as the duo entered.
Amelia nodded.
"I do. Close the door."
Both appeared to be rather nervous, and Amelia stared at each of them in turn with her piercing gaze.
"When you both signed up to be Aurors, you made a vow that you took no sides in political matters, did you not?"
"We did, ma'am."
"Then why is it that you felt compelled to join Dumbledore's group? Before either of you consider lying to me, I was not born yesterday. You were both in the Department of Mysteries the night the Dark Lord returned, and you could only have been so if you were following Dumbledore's orders."
"But it isn't political, Madam Bones. The Dark Lord…"
Amelia held up a hand to silence the younger woman.
"On the surface, it is very political," she pointed out. "It is only those who truly understand his motivations that realise politics mean little to him, but to his followers, it is certainly political. They rally around him because of the political promises he made, and because he is the Heir of Slytherin. To you, Auror Tonks, it may not seem political, but to the wider world, it is, and that is what matters."
"So, we shouldn't help Dumbledore?"
Amelia frowned at Kingsley.
"Had I discovered your involvement before what happened in the Department of Mysteries, this would've been a very different conversation. I would've kicked your arses up and down the corridors of the Ministry until you found yourself out on the streets, without your jobs, but things are different now. I respect that you were both willing to risk everything to do what is right, and I even commend it. It takes real guts and gumption to do what you have done, and as we find ourselves in such an uncertain situation, I see no reason that we should not all be pulling together."
Both Aurors breathed a sigh of relief.
"But, I will be speaking with Dumbledore first."
Tonks and Kingsley appeared uncomfortable, and Amelia frowned at the pair.
"Well, Dumbledore is sick," Tonks answered. "Something happened to him after what happened in the Wizengamot meeting. We don't know what it is, but Potter is looking into it."
Amelia's frown deepened as she pondered what was said.
"And where is Potter now?"
"We don't know," Kingsley answered, "but I may have heard someone mention him going to the Ministry."
Amelia could only shake her head.
"The man has a death wish," she huffed irritably. "What could he possibly be doing there?"
"It can only be to do with what happened to Albus," Tonks mused aloud, and Amelia stood suddenly as she realised what had happened.
"The protections," she whispered. "Potter must be trying to free Albus from them. They had to have made him sick."
"The protections?" Kingsley asked.
Amelia nodded.
"When Cornelius vacated his position, the protections were taken on by Albus, which must've been quite disorientating for him, but I cannot fathom how they would've made him so sick," she added with a frown.
She pondered it for a moment and found herself no closer to answering the many question swirling about her mind.
Still, she was quite certain Albus's current condition pertained to the protections of the Ministry of Magic, and that was why Potter was venturing there.
It was a bold and foolish move indeed.
If he was to be caught within…
Such a thought did not rest easily with Amelia, and yet, he had not asked for any assistance.
As ever, he likely had a plan f sorts; a stupid, brazen plan that could certainly see him killed.
Even so, he'd proven time and again that he had a proclivity for emerging from them on the 0ther side no worse for wear, and as she resumed her seat, Amelia released a deep breath.
"As soon as Potter returns, I would speak with him," she sighed.
"You're not going after him?" Tonks asked.
Amelia snorted as she shook her head.
"No, I think he has proven he is capable enough to do whatever it is he has decided, but I would speak with him, nonetheless. Although I would not usually endorse or allow a civilian to involve themselves in such a way, there is nothing I can threaten Potter with to stop him, and nor would I. Already, he has done more for the war effort than any other, and I would sooner work with him harmoniously than have us stepping on each other's toes."
Her two Aurors nodded before heading towards the door, and Amelia cleared her throat to garner their attention once more.
Fixing them again with a piercing glare, she eyed each of them as she spoke for a final time.
"If you ever do anything like this again, I will ensure the only job you will be able to get is cleaning the toilets in Knockturn Alley, without the use of magic. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am," the two Aurors replied before taking their leave of the room.
Amelia continued to glare at the door as her lips quirked in amusement.
Just because she respected and even admired what both had done, they still needed a reminder of who it was they answered to.
If only Potter would be so easy to either cow or control.
Amelia snorted at the thought.
Potter was certainly something of a rogue, and she remembered just who his father and grandfather had been.
Although young, James Potter had been much like his son, and Charlus Potter was the one who seemed to have begun the trend through his own antics.
Perhaps it was simply a Potter thing.
Amelia imagined if she went back far enough, she would learn that every Potter to have lived were not so different.
(Break)
Navigating his way around the Ministry of Magic underneath the cloak seemed to be too easy, but Harry would not allow himself to become comfortable within the folds of the garment, despite how incredible it seemed.
Until he'd spent such a lengthy period under it, he'd not sensed the magic of the cloak itself, but now, he could certainly feel it enveloping him, much like how the wand did so with his mind when he held it.
It was an odd feeling, somewhat uncomfortable when he pondered it, but it did not feel wrong.
In a way, and though he could not quite comprehend the magic, it felt as though it truly belonged to him.
Still, for the next part of his plan, he would need to be rid of it, and as he arrived in the atrium, he transformed and took flight, landing on one of the broken rafters of the ceiling.
Casting magic was something he'd wanted to avoid to ensure he did not alert anyone to his presence prematurely, but fortunately, Harry had been able to formulate quite the plan of distraction.
Smirking to himself as best he could with a beak, he continued counting down in his head before squawking loudly and flapping his wings.
He continued making the racket until the Death Eaters on guard began filling the atrium below, each of them peering up towards him in a mixture of curiosity and irritation.
"It's a bloody crow!" one of them declared.
Harry squawked once more, though the sound came out as more of a laugh; something the Death Eaters below did not appreciate.
"The little shit!" one of them cursed, aiming his wand towards Harry.
The spell he fired missed, and Harry tilted his head curiously, before jumping onto the next beam, laughing at the effort.
The Death Eater growled as his comrades joined in, openly mocking him for the miss.
With a growl of irritation, he fired another spell, and then another as Harry avoided it.
By now, there were a few dozen Death Eaters below him, attracted by the commotion he was causing, and as Harry continued to squawk, they only became more enraged.
"I'll strangle that little shit!"
Another spell was hurled towards him, though this one was not so pleasant.
Still, Harry manged to avoid the blasting curse, the fragments of wood and granite as they fell from the ceiling, but most importantly, the cascade of water that followed.
The Death Esters below were not so fortunate, and most were washed away by the stream of water that continued to pour from the ceiling.
"You bloody prat! Look what you've done now!" one of the Death Eaters spluttered as they began to gather themselves.
"Got him though, didn't I?" the other returned.
He had not.
Whilst the Death Eaters were distracted by the damage that had been done, Harry had immediately taken his leave of the atrium and made his way back towards the office belonging to the Minister of Magic, which he found devoid of the guards.
Shaking his head, he tapped the door with his wand and entered beneath his cloak, only for an alarm to begin blaring away throughout the building.
"Well, shit," Harry cursed, doing his utmost to secure the door for as long as he possibly could before setting to work to achieve what he'd come here for.
(Break)
His gaze swept over his followers gathered round the table within Malfoy Manor, and the Dark Lord shook his head as he took his seat at the head. To his right, the ever-devoted Bellatrix sat as poised as ever, and to his left, Augustus could be found.
It was once Lucius's place, but the man did not even deserve a spot in the room any longer.
No, he'd proven to be little more than a disappointment, and would remain so until he found a way into Lord Voldemort's good graces once more.
Still, despite his impressive assembly, there were some noticeable absences.
Gibbon and Travers were dead, killed by Potter and his wife at the Ministry, and the Dark Lord did not doubt more would follow before the damned fools of the Ministry and Dumbledore's Order conceded defeat.
It would come any day now.
With the headmaster of the school currently indisposed, it was only a matter of time before victory would belong to Lord Voldemort.
"You were successful, Bellatrix?" he asked.
The woman's eyes positively twinkled with mirth as she nodded.
"He is dead, my lord."
"Excellent," Voldemort declared.
It was a shame to have to remove someone who'd proven to be a valuable asset over the years to his followers, but Borgin knew too much. Perhaps not enough to cause him issue, but too much about him, nonetheless.
Others would soon follow, but for now, the Dark Lord was feeling unusually jealous.
All had been going well in recent days; an omen of the control he would soon have over the entire country.
When the Ministry was secured, Hogwarts would fall next, and from there, he would all but control Great Britain.
"Lestrange, what of your efforts?"
Rodolphus stood and offered him a bow.
"My Lord, I have assembled the teams ready to be deployed. We need only see the legislation passed, and they will be given all the powers they need to replace the Aurors."
The Dark Lord nodded his approval before releasing a deep breath.
"Then all is going according to plan," he declared. "Soon enough, there will be no resistance left to face, but that does not mean we can become lax. The mudbloods and filth must be rounded up. They have no place in our society."
"You would kill them all, my lord?" Augustus questioned.
"No," Voldemort assured him. "But each will be registered and monitored closely. In time, they will accept that they can wield no power in our world, and they will choose to leave. Those that do not will not live a prosperous life in magical Britain."
The followers gathered around the table laughed amusedly, only to fall silent as the door to the drawing room was flung open.
The Death Eater who stepped in was sodden from head to foot, and he was breathing heavily.
"My Lord, there has been a severe security breach at the Ministry," he wheezed. "Someone has managed to reach the office of the Minister."
The Dark Lord stood sharply, and his nostrils flared as he felt his burning anger rise.
"Impossible!" he snapped. "Who?"
"We do not know, my lord, but before it happened, a crow…"
The Dark Lord frowned deeply at the mention of the bird.
It triggered another memory, one recent, and which had led to something of a failure.
A crow.
When he'd been watching the Bones house burn to the ground, a crow had appeared. He remembered the squawking creature vividly before…
"Potter!" he hissed furiously. "It is Potter!"
"But how, my lord?" Bellatrix asked. "The protections would stop anyone getting in!"
"I do not know!" Voldemort huffed irritably as he drew his wand, "but I finally have the boy where I want him! Come, all of you!"
With that, he vanished from the confines of Malfoy Manor and would arrive at the office of the Minister of Magic in only a matter of moments.
The thought brought a smirk to his lips.
This time, Potter would be within the Dark Lord's protections, and there would be no escape.
(Break)
Were it not for the urgency of the situation he found himself in, Harry would perhaps observe that the magic belonging to the Minister of Magic was a rather dull place to be.
The bland carpet in front of the fire was worn from where it bad panned passed over, back and forth, by at least a dozen pair of troubled feet over the years, and the books lining the shelves behind the desk all pertained to law or politics.
Harry, however, was not here to take in the drudgery of holding such a position.
He needed to locate the protections, and as a frown creased his brow, his gaze once more fell onto the desk.
It was the only place that made sense.
If, somehow, the Minister was intruded upon unexpectedly, they would likely be seated and would need the protections within reach.
With a nod to himself, Harry sat in the comfortable chair, and spotted the rune etched on the underside of the hardwood.
Being careful not to trigger any further protections within the room, he reached for the rune with the tip of his wand, only to pause and chuckle humourlessly to himself.
Before even looking upon the protections, he knew that they were tied to the blood of the Minister, and as things were, that was Dumbledore.
Blood protections were certainly not something to trifle with lightly, and even if he could manipulate them, Harry was already certain he could not free Albus of their influence over him.
Not even Tom could do it, and that was why Albus remained Minister.
If it could be done, the Dark Lord would've found a way after he'd made his attempt to possess the Headmaster.
Unless Albus was able to fend off any further attacks and vocally and meaningfully vacate the position, the situation was quite helpless without taking such a drastic risk.
That would not do.
Blood magic was dangerous, even with the considerable experience.
Still, Harry chided himself for being in the situation he was in.
He should've deduced that blood magic was involved.
Bones had said as much when she explained that each member of the Wizengamot were required to tie themselves to the government via blood.
Still, Harry needed to find a way to free Dumbledore, lest Riddle found a way to harm the headmaster.
"He's in there!"
The door rattled in its frame as something heavy collided with the woodwork, and Harry shook his head once more.
"Harry Potter. I do not know how you found your way in, but the time has come to face me."
Riddle.
Harry would not mistake that voice anywhere.
Still, he would not make it easy for his foe.
Opening the door would be nothing short of suicidal, given it was Tom himself and undoubtedly dozens of his very best followers. He would want an audience, after all.
"Why don't you come in and get me, Tom?" he called back.
Even through the door and hastily created protections, Harry could feel the rage of the Dark Lord, and even in the dire situation he found himself in, knowing he could irk the man brought a smirk to his lips.
Even so, as expected, something else collided with the door, but it held fast against the onslaught.
If Harry's sudden and faithless plan he'd made was to work, he needed to the Dark Lord to be emotional, furious even.
"Come on, Tom Riddle, I'm sure you can do better than that," he mocked.
The Dark Lord growled, and the next salvo of spells he fired took their toll on the door.
It began to crack down the middle, and Harry readied himself.
Grasping the wand tightly in one hand and the cloak in the other, he briefly lamented the wasted opportunity, but he would not see it remain so.
Trying to fight so many would be reckless and foolish, but he could still get the final laugh here tonight.
(Break)
"What the bloody hell is going on in there?" Dawlish demanded.
"No idea," Kingsley answered with a shrug.
The alarm had been raised several moments ago, and it continued to sound loudly throughout the streets of London. Fortunately, the Aurors that had arrived to satisfy their curiosity had seen fit to cast enough charms around the area to ensure they would not been intruded upon by the muggles.
Tonks had already hurried to Grimmauld Place to alert the members of the Order there, but both already had an idea what was happening.
Harry Potter was in the Ministry of Magic, and evidently, he'd either failed to be careful enough to avoid detection, or he'd purposely set the alarms off.
Kingsley couldn't be certain of the truth of the matter.
What he did know, however, was that Potter was likely in imminent danger, and how he would get his way out of it was lost on the Auror.
"We shouldn't be here," Dawlish murmured. "We don't know what could happen."
He was right.
Given Potter's less-than-subtle approach he usually took, they each found themselves in an unpredictable situation, something that was proven only a moment later as the ground beneath their feet trembled violently.
"What was that?" Dawlish called loudly over the sudden influx of car alarms sounding.
Kingsley could only shake his head in response.
He could think of few things that would cause the effects to be felt up here, but as the ground trembled and cracked once more, he took a step back, hoping the available members of the Order would arrive shortly before the entire city was brought down around them.
(Break)
His rage had quickly consumed him.
He was furious that Potter had somehow been able to navigate his way through the many protections the Dark Lord had put in place, furious with his Death Eaters to falling victim to such crude methods of distraction, but even more furious that Potter dared to mock him so brazenly.
The Ministry was in turmoil as his followers attempted to cease the flooding of the atrium, and yet, the Dark Lord cared little for what was happening around him.
His focus was solely on Potter, and though he knew it was quite impossible for him to do anything with the protections of the building, he continued to fire spell after spell at the door to the office, with each offering becoming more violent and reckless.
"COME OUT, POTER!" Lord Voldemort roared, offering yet another onslaught of spells.
He heard only mocking laughter in response, and his angered flared once more.
Taking aim again, he hurled another spell, and immediately knew that this time, he would be successful breaching whatever pathetic attempt the boy had made to keep him and his followers at bay.
What did surprise him, however, and the Death Eaters surrounding him, was the ferocity of the backlash, and the Dark Lord winced at the high-pitched screeching that filled his ears open the door exploding.
The force sent sprawling backwards by half a dozen feet, and he skidded across the floor, coming to a stop amongst bricks, mortar, and sharp splinters of wood.
Fortunately, he had managed to conjure a hasty and had not been harmed, but his ears rung terribly, and it took a few seconds to catch his bearings.
Immediately, he charged towards the gaping hole where the door to the office had been only a moment prior, but there was no sign of Harry Potter.
The room itself, save for the desk, had been reduced to much the same as the area outside of it.
The carpet was terribly singed, and the pages from the demolished books continued to descend slowly to the floor, and yet, Potter was nowhere to be found.
No, he could not have gotten far.
The Dark Lord could feel his presence, and as he turned to leave what remained of the office, an unpleasant scent wafted under his nose.
Frowning, he followed the smell back out of the office, and realised it was being left in a trail, leading away from him.
Gesturing for his followers to join him, the Dark Lord stalked in the wake of whatever was leaving the rather pungent smell, and shortly found himself back at the rapidly flooding atrium.
The water was almost at knee height, and despite the efforts from those he'd tasked with remedying the problem, the water level continued to grow.
"My Lord!" Augustus interrupted his thoughts urgently. "That smell…!"
"POTTER!"
The young man had managed to make his way towards the phone box that would take him out of the Ministry, and even had the audacity to offer the Dark Lord a smile as he waved in a final mocking gesture, or so Lord Voldemort believed it to be a finality.
Whipping an upward snapping of his wand, Potter gathered the debris from beneath the surface of the water before hurling them towards the Dark Lord in a feeble gesture of defiance.
Still, the distraction served him well enough, and he managed to secure himself within the phone booth whilst Lord Voldemort defended himself and his followers from the attack.
Once more, however, he felt his anger rise as Potter raised both of his middle fingers towards him as the lift ascended.
"MY LORD, NO!" Augustus pleaded.
His words fell on deaf ears, and the Dark Lord sent a blasting curse towards the shaft of the lift, only for his eyes to widen as another explosion rent the air.
The next thing he knew, he was submerged under the water, and as he fought to resurface, he found that the atrium had been torn asunder, and several fires were raging throughout the room.
The Dark Lord's nostrils flared in anger, and as he stopped the flow of water from above them with a flick of his wand, he could not find any words to speak through the fury pulsing through him.
(Break)
"Something is happening in the Ministry!" Tonks announced breathlessly as she hurried into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. "The alarms are sounding!"
Morgana released a deep breath.
She should've known Harry well enough to know he would cause a scene.
With a shake of her head, she stood and ignored the concerned, fervent whispering of Sirius, Remus, the Weasleys, and Hermione.
"We'd best go and see what kind of trouble he is causing," she sighed.
Apparating out of the kitchen, she arrived a short distance away from the Ministry of Magic itself and steadied her legs as the ground shuddered beneath them.
Those gathered were whispering amongst themselves, speculating as to what could be occurring dozens of feet below them. Even Morgana couldn't be certain what Harry had done, but she was worried about her husband being trapped within the Ministry of Magic with so many enemies.
Even so, Harry always found a way out of such situations, so, she waited patiently, only to spot the man emerging from the phone box only a few moments later looking rather pleased with himself, but also troubled.
"Not here," he said quickly as he approached. "Back to Grimmauld Place. All of us," he added as a concerned Remus approached with Sirius as a dog, the Weasleys, and Hermione.
He apparated away, and Morgana followed, finding him seated at the kitchen table as she entered the room, pouring himself a generous measure of Firewhiskey.
"What happened?" Morgana asked.
Harry deflated and shook his head just as Sirius and the others returned.
"What happened?" the man asked, echoing Morgana's question.
"Well, I managed to get in, and then the protections went off when I made it into the office," Harry explained. "As you can expect, Riddle turned up quite quickly, but I managed to get out of there, and even caused a little trouble for them along the way."
"A little trouble?" Tonks scoffed as she entered the kitchen with Kingsley in tow. "Half the bloody street was shaking!"
Harry merely grinned in response.
"It was necessary," he said dismissively. "I didn't how volatile erumpent horn was."
Sirius snorted amusedly and Morgana quirked an eyebrow at him.
"You were carrying around an erumpent horn?"
"I was carrying two," he corrected. "I stored them properly," he added in a bid to avoid an inevitable lecture.
Erumpent horn was exceedingly volatile and unpredictable.
Even the most competent of potion masters tended not to store them but acquired what they needed for their brews only when it was needed.
"Anyway, my venture into the Ministry was not as fruitful as I hoped it would be," Harry sighed, quickly changing the subject. "The protections in place include blood magic, and…"
"You can't do much with it, let alone free Dumbledore," Morgana broke in.
"Exactly," Harry confirmed. "I don't know what else can be done for him short of taking the Ministry back and installing a new Minister. Tom won't, not when he has Dumbledore incapacitated."
Morgana frowned thoughtfully as the members of the Order murmured unhappily amongst themselves.
"Well, there is one way to undo it," she mused aloud, "but it will only work if Dumbledore has a blood relative."
"Why a blood relative?"
"Because you will need their blood," Harry whispered in realisation. "I don't think…"
"There is Aberforth," Remus interjected, "but he and Albus don't exactly get along."
"Aberforth?"
"He is Albus's brother."
Evidently Harry, nor any of the younger Weasleys were aware that the man had any living family, and Morgana suspected there was quite the story to their apparent separation.
"Would he help?" she asked.
Remus grimaced at the question.
"I'm not so sure," he murmured. "They haven't spoken in many years."
"Do you know where I can find him?" Harry questioned the werewolf.
Remus nodded.
"He's the owner of the Hog's Head."
"I knew he looked familiar," Hermione gasped. "He wouldn't look at me properly, but I felt like I knew him."
"You were in the Hog's Head?" Harry asked curiously.
Hermione blushed slightly.
"Viktor took me there."
"Krum?" Ron scoffed. "Krum took you to that dive?"
Hermione tutted and shook her head.
"He's really Dumbledore's brother?"
"He is," Sirius confirmed. "His younger brother."
"I bet that wasn't easy," Harry snorted. "Having Dumbledore as your older brother. I imagine people had expectations of him."
"They did," Sirius replied. "Aberforth is an exceedingly gifted wizard, perhaps more so than most you will ever meet, but he never quite reached the height of his brother."
"He will be fun to talk to then," Harry grumbled. "But I have to try."
With that, he once more took his leave of Grimmauld Place, and Morgana picked up the drink he'd left behind.
She would never truly understand how he would brush off being in near-death situations so easily, but then again, he'd found himself in them more times than all within the room combined.
(Break)
The Dark Lord stepped carefully across the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, the glass and displaced mortar crunching loudly beneath his feet. It would unlikely look as it once had given the damage that had been done, but fortunately, only a handful of his Death Eaters had lost their lives in the commotion.
Better yet, Potter had failed to find a way to manipulate the protections, and they remained firmly attached to the old fool, even if such a connection was all but useless, on the surface.
Not that there wasn't an advantage to be had, but no.
He had tasked young Draco with killing the headmaster, and he would see the boy prove to boy as inept as his father.
Then, he could be rid of the Malfoy in its entirety, and Bellatrix would stop complaining that the boy shared her blood.
It always came back to blood with them all.
He shook his head tiredly as he continued to survey the damage.
Potter was proving to be much more of a problem than he could've anticipated.
How he had come so far, the Dark Lord didn't know, but the boys' journey occupied his thoughts more than he would like. Ever since the Halloween night he'd first made Potter's acquaintance, the demise of his foe had become an obsession.
Even during his years of isolation and suffering, little more had crossed his mind.
No, Potter must be killed before he could continue wreaking havoc on his ambitions, and the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes as he began to carefully ponder the inevitable fall of the-boy-who-lived.