The Potions Master
Knockturn Alley was quiet and had been for several nights now; a telling sign that the battle of Hogwarts had not gone to the Dark Lord's plans. It was almost as though he had vanished overnight, save for the sudden shift of power within the Ministry of Magic.
Corban Yaxley had indeed been named Minister and was going about the task of making the changes Riddle wanted implemented.
With the Wizengamot well and truly cowed, there was no one to stop him.
For now, at least, it seemed that Riddle was content with meddling in politics, but Morgana knew it was only a matter of time before he would emerge from the shadows once more with further violence and attempts to seize all he wanted.
"They're here," Bones murmured, narrowing her eyes as they flittered about the length and breadth of the alley. "I can feel it."
Morgana nodded.
She was not so familiar with this world, and with Harry being so busy, she knew it would be best to work with someone who had more of an insight into how the criminals in wizarding Britain operated.
Bones had immediately agreed to assist her, and the woman's help was proving to be invaluable, despite their lack of success in finding let alone apprehending Bellatrix Lestrange.
Already, the two of them had sorted through all of the items seized from the family home at the end of the last war, and though there had been many unpleasant items amongst the belongings, there had been no sign of the Horcrux.
Even a careful, second sweep of the house had yielded nothing, but Morgana was convinced that if there was any other Death Eater that had been entrusted with one of Riddle's Horcruxes, it would be his most loyal and fanatical follower.
By all accounts, Bellatrix would sooner die than betray her master.
Her years of silence in Azkaban spoke of such, and her outbursts during her trial only cemented Morgana's own thoughts on the woman.
"They're here," she agreed, "but finding them is another matter entirely. I have a few ideas, some less clandestine than others."
"Drawing attention to ourselves will not be helpful. They will only move on, and we will be back at the very beginning again. They may be feeling rather smug and even cocky that they are in control of the Ministry, but they will be paranoid given what happened at the end of the last war. The Dark Lord proved he was not infallible, and he did not cover himself in glory at Hogwarts thanks to your husband."
Morgana smiled proudly as she nodded, and Amelia frowned at her.
"You know, you make quite the pair," she mused aloud. "Potter has always had this air of mystery about him with what happened when he was just a babe, and when he vanished, that only grew. You, on the other hand, you came from nowhere and have already carved quite the reputation for yourself. Riding a werewolf into battle, mind, the most notorious werewolf in recent history, will do that."
"Fenrir proved to be useful enough."
"How did you do it?" Amelia asked curiously.
"Such creatures have such simple minds," Morgana answered. "You just have to know what it is they desire and what they fear. When you know that, it is just a matter of breaking them to your will."
Amelia quirked an eyebrow at her.
"The Mind Arts are heavily frowned upon," she pointed out.
"And yet, the most powerful of wizards are experts, much like you. You hide it well enough, but I have something of a gift in it myself."
"I do not doubt it," Amelia said thoughtfully. "I expect you could be quite the adversary for any, even your own husband."
Morgana laughed.
"Undoubtedly," she replied. "Oh, in a fight, Harry would likely kill me, but I would not be foolish to stand in front of him with a wand. My husband has honour, pride, and unmatched ruthlessness and talent when it comes to battle. My talents lie more in subtlety. No, if I had an enemy like my husband, I would slit his throat whilst he slept."
"You know, you are quite terrifying."
Morgana grinned.
"I take that as quite compliment, but few have anything to fear from me. My ambition only goes as far as exploring magic, and one day having a family that me and Harry have both been denied. Perhaps it would be different if I did not have him, but then again, so would he."
"You complement one another."
"No, we saved one another," Morgana corrected. "He saved me from falling into a deep pit pf darkness I would have no reason to pull myself from, and I saved him from himself. Harry is selfless to a fault and pays no mind to his own wellbeing. I am his reason to live, and that prevents him from doing things unspeakably foolish, for the most part."
"For the most part?"
Morgana snorted.
"I fell in love with him for everything he is," she sighed. "Harry would not be Harry if he wasn't reckless from time to time. In some ways, it is exciting, and others…"
"Terrifying?"
Morgana nodded.
"He just seems to find a way of getting himself into trouble but is equally gifted at getting out of it. I have some tales to tell, but they must wait for another time. For now, I am going to see what I can find here."
"I doubt very much."
"Perhaps," Morgana conceded. "Maybe tonight will not be our night, but I will find her."
"You still haven't told me why you want her so badly," Bones pointed out. "Very few would hunt Bellatrix Lestrange willingly."
"For your own safety," Morgana explained. "The reason for finding her is all in aide of killing the Dark Lord. She has, I believe, something of great importance, but the less you know, the better. If you were to be captured with that knowledge, the war will be lost to us."
"And what if you are captured?"
Morgana grinned.
"Harry would find me," she said confidently. "Just like me, he would burn the entire country to ashes to do so. Besides, I would sooner die than betray my husband, and Riddle would soon see that for himself, but not before it was too late."
Amelia eyed her curiously for a moment before shaking her head, evidently deciding not to press the matter.
"How do you intend on looking around here? Any of his supporters will be on guard."
Morgana merely grinned in response before changing into a small thrush.
She chirped before taking to the sky and landing on a nearby roof, leaving behind a rather perplexed Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
(Break)
"I fear Horace will be harder than ever to find now," Albus sighed tiredly, wiping the water from his face.
"We will find him," Harry said reassuringly, drying them both off with a wave of his wand.
Neither had mentioned the young man was now in the possession of the Elder Wand.
Harry had unintentionally won its allegiance whilst disarming Albus when Tom had all but succeeded in possessing him via his connection to the Ministry of Magic.
The headmaster was currently using his own wand, and somehow, he felt much less burdened than he would've perhaps expected.
One of his greatest fears was that the legendary wand he'd taken from Gellert would once more find itself in the possession of someone with unpleasant ambitions, but Albus did not believe Harry harboured such.
He'd spoken often enough of his desire for a simple life when the fighting was over, and the older man took comfort in that.
The wand would be in good hands, and as he watched Harry methodically inspect the cavern they found themselves in, he did so with curiosity. He was interested to see how he would solve the puzzles laid out before them, even if he was a little nervous about what awaited them on the other side.
'How many did you see, Kreacher?'
The little elf shuddered at the memory that undoubtedly plagued him.
'Kreacher could not count, but there were many, sir. They were cold, pale, and vicious.'
Harry had merely nodded in response, seemingly unfazed by such an unpleasant task ahead.
"Of course, he would demand it," the younger man snorted amusedly.
"Demand what?" Albus asked with a frown.
He looked on as Harry drew a dagger and sliced the palm of his hand before pressing it against the wall of the cavern.
As he did so, a large, illuminated arch formed, and Harry shook his head as he stepped through, healing his wound as he did so.
"Blood," Albus murmured. "Tom would not hesitate in delving into such things."
Harry only shrugged in response.
"It's useful if implemented correctly. The magic only wanted blood for passage because Tom would need to be able to proceed with an able body and clear mind to retrieve the locket if he needed it. It would not do him well to put anything in place that required too high an admission fee."
Albus nodded his agreement and frowned as they came upon a much larger cavern.
This one, however, was mostly taken up by what appeared to be a blackened lake, and it was unusually cold.
Harry held a hand up to halt their progress, only to shake his head once more as he seemingly snatched something invisible from the air. Tapping the large chain he'd retrieved with the tip of his wand, he allowed it to pool on the ground, and the two of them watched as a small boat cut across the surface of the water until it thudded against the rocky bank.
Both eyed the vessel curiously for a moment, but it was Harry who spoke first.
"Only one of us can use it," he said with a frown. "No matter, it just means we have two points of attack when they come."
"When they come?"
"They're in the water," Harry chuckled. "I can feel them waiting for us to make a mistake."
"How many?"
"Hundreds," Harry said darkly. "He spent a lot of time putting this together."
Albus shuddered at the thought, and Harry wasted no time climbing into the boat and tapping it with his wand, sending him towards what appeared to be a small island in the distance.
"Do you think it wise for you to go?" Albus called. "Forgive me, but your life is much more valuable than mine, Harry."
He laughed in response.
"Maybe," he agreed, "but I have more experience in dealing with them than you. Just be ready. I expect they won't be happy with either of us being here."
Albus could only shake his head as he vanished from sight, and yet again, he was reminded that although he was a participant in this war, that was all he was.
Harry had very much taken the lead since he'd arrived, had achieved more on the path to defeating Tom than any other, and had been the one to stand firm in the grounds of Hogwarts when the Dark lord had attacked the school.
No, Albus may lead the Order on all but his reputation alone, but this was Harry's war to fight, and he was stepping up to do so admirably.
Still, Albus was not disheartened.
If anything, he felt a sense of relief that there was someone else finally willing and able to do what he had these past decades.
He'd never truly been cut out for war, and though it saddened him that such thing had to be, Harry somehow was.
He'd grown into a warrior, and yet, had somehow still become an honourable and caring man.
The same could not be said for many jaded by violence and trauma, but Harry;' own had shaped him into something quite remarkable, and certainly admirable, even if he was seemingly as reckless as his father could be.
That was something Albus observed as the cave was filled with a sudden, fevered splashing, before an almost painful heat filled the air.
The headmaster could only watch as the enormous, fiery basilisk lunged back and forth across the lake, and the smell of scorched flesh, and sounds of screaming filled the air.
Very few of the eerie corpses headed in his direction, but a powerful vortex of fire from his own wand sent them back into the murky depths.
After only a few moments, the cave was eerily silent once more, save for the gentle crackling of the some of the rocks that had been melted into slag.
Fiendfyre truly was something to behold but was not something that should be trifled with.
Albus himself had seen the effects of such, and something perhaps even worse at the hands of Gellert.
He would never forget the blue fire the man had conjured, nor coming dangerously close to being consumed by it.
Fortunately, Albus had been privy to just how Gellert had invented the spell and had been able to do enough to render it quite ineffective against it. Many others had not been so lucky.
He shook his head of the maudlin thought, and all but jumped out of his skin as Harry suddenly appeared next to him, grinning triumphantly.
"Here is the fake Regulus Black placed here," he revealed, holding up a gold locket embossed with a serpent inlaid with green stones. "It's a close match, but it wouldn't have fooled Tom. Regulus did leave a note though. I'll give it to Sirius."
Albus nodded his agreement and frowned as he pondered just how Harry had made it back to him.
The protections in place to prevent apparation were still somehow intact, but before he could ask, the young man was already leaving the cave.
"Well, at least he won't be able to use them against us," Harry said, evidently relieved. "They would wreak havoc on a battlefield."
"They would," Albus agreed. "Were there any other protections?"
Harry's expression darkened as he nodded.
"Something most unpleasant, and I know exactly what I will do with it. Don't worry, it is nothing so fatal, but it will certainly give a certain someone less misery than they deserve. So, Slughorn next?"
It was clear that Harry would divulge nothing further, and Albus was not inclined to press him.
It would serve no purpose, and they had much more important things to focus on.
"I will find him," Albus assured him, "but there is perhaps one other place we should check, once I am certain we will find what we are looking for. It would not do well for Tom to discover what we are up to before our work is done, and the location is a little trickier than this one and not so hidden."
Harry nodded.
"We only have around a week before term starts," he pointed out. "If you want him to teach, we will need to find him soon."
"Indeed," Albus murmured. "If it takes longer, do you think your wife would fill in for him?"
Harry chuckled amusedly.
"That is a conversation you would need to have with her," he answered. "She is an excellent potioneer, Albus, but her knowledge is much older than the current Hogwarts practices. Oh, I don't doubt she could do it, but whether she wants to or not is another matter."
Albus was somewhat taken aback, but he nodded his understanding.
"Then I will do so when I see her next. Finding talented potioneers is no easy feat, Harry. Horace and Severus were both exceptional in the field, as was your mother."
"A talent I certainly didn't inherit," Harry snorted amusedly before diving into the water to exit the cave.
Albus could only smile fondly.
In so many ways, Harry had grown to be his own man, but from time to time, there were undeniable glimpses of both James and Lily Potter in him.
It was heartwarming to see and reminded the headmaster very much of just where the boy had come from.
(Break)
Stepping through the fireplace into the office of the Minister of Magic was something the Dark Lord knew he would always do. Even in his darkest moments in exile, he'd not doubted that he would one day return to fulfil his destiny, and being here now was just the very beginning.
Still, he needed to remind himself to be patient, something he was not so accustomed to.
Lord Voldemort did not like to be inactive, did not like the thought of his foes becoming comfortable, but for now, he knew he needed to change tact.
Now, he could truly take control of Britain, using all the tools he'd acquired during his clever coup.
"My Lord," Yaxley greeted him with a bow as he stood from his seat behind the desk.
The position of Minister of Magic suited the man.
Corban had always been charismatic and had quite the gift in swaying people to see things his way.
The Dark Lord idly wondered if the man had somehow swayed him to choose Yaxley for the position, but he shook his head at the thought.
No, none could influence the Dark Lord.
He'd never developed any vices beyond his indulgence in the suffering of others.
There was no lust for flesh, or even for riches.
Gold was not something he coveted.
He'd seen the characters that such wealth produced; lax, unambitious, and weak.
His own birth had seen him raised by those who could never understand him. Food had often been scarce, and his other basic needs barely met.
Even when the old fool had visited him at Wool's Orphanage, the young Dark Lord had needed to rely on the school to obtain what had been on his list of required items.
Once more, all of it had been cheap, and second-hand, save for the wand that had become his most prized possession, and he had used that to better himself more than any amount of gold could.
He'd devoured his education, even bettered it over the years, and become something that no spoiled, lacklustre, bratty pureblood could come close to.
"Corban," Voldemort greeted his subordinate. "I have come to discuss your meeting with the Wizengamot. What do you intend on introducing?"
Yaxley nodded his understanding and handed the Dark Lord a thick stack of parchment.
"Firstly, we will introduce the Muggleborn Registry Act and will do so under the guise of orchestrating a census. It is something the muggles do, my lord, to get an accurate accounting of how many of them there are."
"Do we not have this information?"
"For the most part, my lord, but deaths and births are often overlooked until a child shows magical potential. As to the former, many magicals pass on and are buried by their muggle family. Of course, our true reasoning is to not only ascertain an accurate accounting, but to ensure we know where they are at all times. In the coming weeks, additional sensors will be installed across Britain to track magical activity, and we will introduce and incentivised scheme for cooperative members of the community to come forward with information of those who have not registered under the act."
"So, it will be mandatory?"
"Of course, my lord. To enforce this, we will have a dedicated group of men and women working around the clock to seek out those who do not register within the window."
The Dark Lord looked at Corban curiously, and the man grinned.
"Of course, the group will be well-trained, and granted powers that will ensure they will arrive to register. Those who refuse to cooperate…well, I expect it will end terribly for them."
The Dark Lord chuckled as he placed the stack of parchment back onto the desk.
"So, theoretically speaking, this group could be used to perhaps thin the herd of those who may prove to be a problem in the future?"
Corban nodded.
"Especially if they were to resist, my lord."
The Dark smiled.
"Then the act has my full support, Corban. Have you devised a way to make life difficult for other, more pressing enemies?"
"Indeed, my lord. Dumbledore will be named as a traitor to the Ministry for establishing a vigilante group. The known members of the group will be made known publicly and added to a list of wanted men and women."
"And what of Potter?"
Yaxley frowned.
"He will be much more difficult to implicate officially, my lord, especially without raising suspicion. Dumbledore's reputation is already in tatters from the work of the media over the past years, but Potter is all but untouchable in the eyes of the public. Your re-emergence is known, and his fame for what happened between the two of you will be all but difficult to combat, more so now after what happened at the Ministry."
The Dark Lord released an irritable breath.
He'd expected as much, but had hoped for a solution that would benefit him by keeping Potter needing to lay low.
"We could, however, dispute that this man is Harry Potter at all," Yaxley continued thoughtfully. "There are those that do not believe him to be Harry Potter at all. If the Ministry were to officially declare him an imposter, it might just work towards his public opinion dropping."
"Will it work?"
"I cannot be certain, my lord," Yaxley answered honestly, "but we have nothing to lose from trying. Potter has offered no explanation to where he has been or what he's been doing, or even how he is no longer the boy he should be."
The Dark Lord hummed before nodding.
"If we have nothing to lose, there is no harm, but wait a while, Corban. Make it seem that a thorough investigation has been done before announcing anything to do with Potter or Dumbledore."
"Yes, my lord," Yaxley complied. "Is there anything else?"
"Nothing that cannot wait. Of course, I will continue with our own operations, but I will keep you in the loop where necessary to ensure there is no conflict of interest."
"I'm sure there will not be, my lord," Yaxley chuckled.
The Dark Lord nodded before throwing a handful of floo powder into the fire and stepping back through to Malfoy Manor.
Yaxley was serving him well in his newfound position, and in truth, much of what he was doing was merely for the benefit of the public.
Both Potter and Albus would unlikely be troubled by anything Corban could do, but it did not hurt to sway the opinion of the public.
At the very least, there may be less resistance in the coming months, and when both men were dead, any fight left in Britain would fade with them.
"What did you find, Wormtail?"
The man all but jumped out of skin as the Dark Lord addressed him, and his eyes widened as though he were an infant being caught doing something he shouldn't.
"Nothing, my lord," Pettigrew answered. "There are no passages into the school, and the security seems to have been tightened significantly."
The Dark Lord tutted unhappily.
"Then you had best keep looking, Peter," he urged. "There is a way into the castle, and you will find it!"
Wormtail yelped in a mixture of shock and pain as the Dark Lord aimed a stinging hex that caught him on the rear.
He fled from the room and Lord Voldemort sunk into a nearby chair.
Had he not proven himself to be so valuable, if cowardly, he'd have no use for such a pathetic man, but Pettigrew continued to have his uses. He could get to places no other could, and it could not be denied that he had served the Dark lord well, even if he only remained loyal because he had no other choice.
The Dark Lord could only imagine what Potter or Black would do to him should they capture Peter.
The rat would suffer greatly, and he would deserve every moment of it for his betrayal.
Still, it was not something Lord Voldemort feared.
Peter was too scared and too pathetic to betray him; not that he could.
The man had proven himself a coward to be trusted with anything so important, but still, he had his uses, for now, though there would be done who would mourn his loss if he were to find himself at the mercy of his enemies.
(Break)
"As much as I appreciate the offer, I cannot bring myself to accept it," Morgana said apologetically. "I adore parts of Hogwarts, and some of my best memories have been there, but so have some of my worst. Teaching is not what I am destined for, and I expect you would change your mind. My methods and practices do not align with your own."
Dumbledore offered her a smile.
"I respect your decision and honesty. Teaching is not something that should be taken lightly, and if you are not certain of doing it, then you should not."
Morgana nodded her agreement.
The idea of teaching was not something that had ever appealed to her.
Over the years, she and Harry had taught each other much, but to find herself instructing an impressionable group of children was not something Morgana had ever desired.
For the most part, she disliked them.
They had made her brief time within the castle quite miserable, and she'd only found a semblance of happiness when she'd moved herself into the forest.
That had grown when Harry had come into her life, but he'd not been like the others, nor truly a child.
By the time they'd met, any vestige of childhood innocence he may once have possessed had been taken from him, just as it had her.
She was pulled from her thoughts by a sudden plume of fire, and her breath hitched in her lungs at the sight of the phoenix sitting on the headmaster's shoulder.
Harry merely shook his head subtly and Morgana remained quiet.
"Already?" Dumbledore whispered, surprised by whatever Fawkes was communicating to him. "Well, I must say, I didn't expect it to be so soon."
"He found him?" Harry asked.
Albus nodded as he stood.
"Which can only mean Horace wished to be found," he said gravely. "I expect his life has been considerably less peaceful since we last spoke. Perhaps he will not be so difficult to convince this time. Are you ready to accompany me?"
Harry nodded, and only a moment later, the two of them left Grimmauld Place, leaving Morgana to ponder her less than satisfactory venture in Knockturn Alley.
Riddle was indeed intent on remaining out of the public eye and had evidently told his followers to do the same.
Taking the Ministry was indeed quite the boon, and something he could use to his advantage, though how he would do so was yet to be revealed. Morgana expected it would be soon enough, but that did not alleviate her frustration.
Knockturn Alley had proven to be much more complex than she could've anticipated.
She had no doubt that many of Riddle's followers were frequenting the place. How they were doing so eluded her, though Morgana suspected it had to do with the array of protections in place.
They were a veritable maze to navigate, each flowing into the other, and many leading only to dead ends that could not be bypassed so easily.
Whoever was responsible for them had a particularly keen mind for such magic, and even if it were possible to map them, breaking them down or breaching them would be another matter entirely.
Morgana did not believe it would be an impossible task, but it certainly would be time consuming and challenging at best.
She released a dep breath as she shook her head.
It was a task she would rather not undertake, but suspected might become necessary if any of her other ideas failed to lead her to Bellatrix Lestrange.
With Harry and Dumbledore slowly closing the net around the Dark Lord, the woman might just prove to be a vital piece of the puzzle, so it was paramount Morgana found her.
How she would do so, she wasn't certain, but she would.
No one could evade her forever, and Bellatrix's days were all but numbered before she found herself in Morgana's clutches.
(Break)
They both drew their wands upon arriving in the small village.
The sea air was prominent, meaning they were not so far from the coast, but it was warmer than one would expect, and Albus hummed thoughtfully as they moved along a narrow street.
"Cornwall," he murmured. "This is a rather charming village."
"One that has been visited recently," Harry pointed out.
Albus nodded.
He could sense the magic in the air, left behind by no less than half a dozen people, and his pace quickened in concern for his former colleague.
If Tom was indeed searching for Horace, he would leave no stone unturned.
Fortunately, there did not appear to be any sign of a struggle or disturbance within the sleepy dwelling, and Albus breathed a sigh of relief as he paused outside a small cottage.
"I believe we will find Horace in here."
"Likely terrified," Harry replied. "That could work in our favour."
"Indeed."
With his wand raised, he stepped forward, only to frown at the sight of the front door hanging off its hinges as though it had been breached violently, but there was no other indication that it had.
"A clever ruse," Harry chuckled as he stepped over the threshold. "The blood is a nice touch, but it comes from a pig. Ah, this looks rather suspicious."
He proceeded to kick a nearby armchair, eliciting a yelp of surprise from the piece of furniture, which, only a moment later, had been replaced by the paunchy Horace Slughorn, who was rubbing his knee as he scowled at the young man.
"Was that truly necessary?" he grumbled.
"I could've hit you with a nasty curse instead. You can't be too careful these days," Harry pointed out. "You know that for yourself."
Horace continued to scowl unhappily.
"Fear not," Albus sighed. "You are as safe as can be with me and Mr Potter here."
"Potter!" Horace gasped as he looked towards the other man. "Oh ho, I see it. You look just like your father, but your eyes…"
He broke off as his tone and expression softened.
"Are just like my mother's," Harry finished. "I hear you were quite fond of her."
Horace frowned as he shifted his gaze towards Albus.
"If you think you can use her to sway me…"
"Oh, shut up," Harry huffed. "We came here to help you, but us doing so comes at a price. You're hiding from him, and you would only do so if he had a reason to look for you. My offer is simple. You will share what you know and will return to teach at Hogwarts. In exchange, you will be kept safe and out of the war."
"You lack subtlety, boy," Horace warned.
"No, I just prefer to be straight to the point when all of us know what is at stake," Harry corrected. "We already know his followers have been here tonight, and we know that you wanted to be found, but not by him. So, shall we stop playing stupid games now?"
Before Horace could answer, Harry waved his wand several times whilst holding up a hand.
"We know about his Horcruxes. We just need to know how many of the bloody things he made."
It appeared as though Horace had been slapped, and his mouth fell agape.
"W-why w…"
"Do not lie or conceal anything from me. If you want our help, we need honesty. How many did he make?"
Horace swallowed deeply.
"Seven," he whispered. "He intended to make seven."
Harry nodded.
"So, we have three others to find," he mused aloud. "The cup, the ring, and one we have yet to identify."
"Quite the task," Albus sighed.
"But not as bad as it could be," Harry pointed out. "When we have them, I can finally put the bastard in the ground. For now, we should probably get out of here. It won't do us any good if they come back. Hogwarts? We need to get him settled in," he added, nodding towards Horace before leaving the room.
"What just happened?" Horace asked.
"Mr Potter just saved your life," Albus answered.
Horace shook his head.
"Merlin, Albus, he is quite something, isn't he? I've heard the rumours and saw the articles in The Prophet, but I believed them to be little more than embellishments."
Albus chuckled as he shook his head.
"Horace," he said amusedly as he wrapped an arm around the man's shoulder, "you have seen nothing yet, but rest assured, Harry is a good man."
Horace did not seem convinced, but he allowed himself to be guided from the room.
"But can he win against him?" he whispered worriedly.
"He can, and he will."
(Break)
"Unbelievable," Sirius said darkly as he perused the morning edition of The Daily Prophet. "What's worse is that many will comply, not realising they are only damning themselves to his mercy."
"Wha do you mean?" Morgana asked, cutting into a mango.
She had become rather fond of the various fruits on offer and had harvested many seeds to grow for when she and Harry eventually returned home.
"The Muggleborn Registry Act," Sirius murmured as his eyes scanned the accompanying article. "The Ministry is now demanding that all muggleborn witches and wizards present themselves at the Ministry of Magic to be registered. They say it is in the name of getting a better understanding of our population in Britain."
"But it isn't."
Sirius shook his head grimly.
"No," he answered thoughtfully. "It is to ascertain who will continue to comply with them, and who will perhaps prove to be trouble. Those who resist…"
"Will be killed."
"Not officially. No, they will disappear under mysterious circumstances. The Ministry will claim they have fled Britain instead of complying if anyone asks, but the dead will hold their tongue."
"Will he not kill those who do arrive to register anyway?"
"Not so brazenly. I expect so long as there is no resistance from them, he will allow them to continue living within the magical community, but the moment they step out of line or even speak against the establishment out of turn…"
"They will be dealt with accordingly."
Sirius nodded.
"What's worse is that any who have found themselves in a prevalent position will be encouraged to vacate it in favour of a pureblood. Refusal will not be an option, and those purebloods who are married to a muggleborn will quickly find themselves just as shunned as their spouse. Those who care for their status may even take further action to find themselves reinstated."
"You seem to know a lot about what he wants."
Sirius snorted.
"I spent my childhood here, listening to my mother spout the same shit, and then Bellatrix when she would visit. Oh, they couldn't agree more with Riddle's ideology, and none of this surprises me. It is just the beginning of the misery. Any who oppose this will be silenced, and the more that are silenced, the darker Britain will become. It will be like last time. No one will know who they can trust, and those who would usually offer resistance will fade into the shadows in the hopes that the storm will pass."
"But it won't, not until he is dead."
Sirius nodded his agreement.
"And that is why those of us that can fight, must. That's what we did last time, but even that wasn't enough."
"Not until he was faced with Harry."
Sirius swallowed deeply.
"Not until he was faced with Harry," he agreed sadly.
Morgana offered him a comforting smile.
"It is different this time," she pointed out. "Harry isn't a helpless babe. He won't let Riddle just do what he wants. He will fight until he is dead."
"Or until Harry is," Sirius murmured.
Morgana shook her head.
"That isn't going to happen," she assured him, "and no matter what Riddle does, it won't be enough to stop Harry."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because you have seen nothing yet of what Harry can do."