Throughout the rest of the holidays Ron and Hermione pleaded Harry nonstop to just let them take the matter to the Wizengamot. They both claimed that Scrimgeour had no case. It had been a life or death situation, so what happened back in November had been completely within the law.
And Harry knew that they were both right. But he just couldn’t take the chance that the Minister had the Wizengamot in his pocket, and without Dumbledore there for the defense, the verdict was out before the voting began. After Mr. Weasley heard he wanted to try and do something about it, but that was also futile. He would have been sacked faster than Weasley’s Wildfire Wizbangs on caffeine.
So, when the morning of January the fifth arrived, Harry woke up and dug through his trunk looking for some wizard robes. I’m still Dumbledore’s man, Harry reminded himself constantly, and he’d want me to help my best friends.
When he got downstairs, he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him at the foot of the steps.
“Look,” Ron began stiffly, “I can quit my mission at any time. If you don’t go to the Ministry, I’ll quit and tell you what the Council was planning for me.”
It was the opportunity that Harry had been waiting months for. Any other time he would have given in to the proper demands, and have Ron spill the big secret…. Unfortunately, now wasn’t it. He had to turn him down.
“Sorry,” Harry said.
“Harry, please take it,” Hermione pleaded him. “I’ve been reading up on this ever since you told us. I built up an effective case that should get Ron and I off the hook.”
“Brightest witch in your age or not, Hermione, how convincing will you yourself be, eh?” he retorted. “How calm will you be when you’ll be facing possible time in Azkaban?”
She turned a little pink, and looked away. And with good reason too, Harry thought. She may have gotten all A’s on exams even after burning out on studying, but proving your innocence in front of possibly unsympathetic people was too much.
Harry walked past them with only a slight glance. He then noticed that the portrait of Mrs. Black hadn’t reared its ugly head. Must be because she knew she couldn’t make things fouler, he figured with a scowl.
After making sure there were no Muggles around outside, he turned on the spot, and Apparated to the Atrium. There so many people were Apparating and Disapparating at the same time that nobody took any notice to Harry at first. But as he made his way to the lifts, heads started to turn. Then at the security desk, Eric Munch looked very surprised to see Harry coming towards him.
“Didn’t think the Minister was serious,” he said, when Harry came up to check his wand. “Well…follow me.”
“My wand,” Harry protested.
“No need for that today, Mr. Potter.” Eric then led the way to the lifts leaving his post behind. Slightly concerned, Harry followed. Who would make sure no dangerous people got in?
The security wizard then got a lift of his own, and waved Harry to go inside. He did so, and then Eric came in and pressed the Level One button. As they went up without interruption, the usual voice didn’t say anything until they reached the top.
But Eric pulled Harry out, and led him along the corridor. And after a few more hallways and double doors, they finally arrived in a fairly large room with seven desks. Six were all filled with overworked-looking wizards and witches. The one at the end of the room only had one person calmly scanning some papers. With a scowl, Harry noticed that person had a crop of red hair.
As they passed, Harry didn’t even attempt to make contact with Percy. Percy, on the other hand, was startled by his sudden appearance. He tried to ask something, but Eric waved him off.
“He’s the Minster’s personal guest,” the security wizard explained.
“Uh”yeah.” He nodded with a confused look on his face, and got up to open the door behind him marked “Minister of Magic.” Inside the spacious office was a large oak desk with the form of Rufus Scrimgeour sitting behind it. He had been looking over some parchment, when he heard the door open.
“Thank you, Eric, you may leave us,” the Minister said.
“Very good, sir.” And Eric backed away closing the door behind him.
“Take a seat, Harry,” Scrimgeour offered, waving at a plush chair in front of him.
Harry stuck his hands in his pockets. “Rather stand.” Every cell in his body practically told him to make a break for it. No, it’s for Ron and Hermione.
“As you wish,” the Minister responded indifferently. He then handed Harry a piece of parchment. “A reporter from the Daily Prophet will be coming over in a little while, Harry. This is a list of possible questions he might ask, and the correct responses. If anything strange comes up just use your head.”
Harry snatched it from his hands, and read over it. “What made you finally give support to the Ministry after year of silence?” one asked. The answer was some bullocks about the Ministry making progress the past few months, and them being the only hope. “What is your favorite program enacted by the Minister?” Answer: a no mercy policy on Death Eaters or people suspected of affiliation in any way. The questions went on, and he handed it back when he was through. He would most likely feel sick by the end of this.
The interview itself was a grueling process. The reporter sat across from Harry, and asked almost every single question on the list. And as Harry spoke, the reporter practically drooled over the scoop that he was getting. He predicted it to be the biggest interview since the one given to The Quibbler. The reporter did throw in some odd questions, and Harry gave the most confident answer possible.
By the end of it, the reporter had almost ten pages worth of notes, and he quickly hurried out of the office to make a dash for the Daily Prophet. The interview would most likely end up on that day’s afternoon edition.
The Minister looked very pleased. “Good, Harry, very good!”
“Glad your happy,” Harry spat, dropping his act. “Can I go now?”
Just then the door to the office opened once more, and a man walked in. His face was one that was reaching old age, but was not there just yet. His gray hair still had a few whips of black in it. When he walked in he looked very surprised to see Harry there, but was delighted nonetheless.
“Henry,” Scrimgeour greeted, getting up to shake the man’s hand. “How may I be of service?”
Henry? Harry thought. Could this man possibly be…?
“It’s nothing,” the man named Henry responded, looking at Harry intently. “I was just wondering if the rumors are true”and apparently they are! So, Harry Potter has sided with the Ministry!”
“Apparently so,” Harry said, still unsure of that name.
“Ah, how rude of me,” the Minister said. “Harry, this is Henry Dempsher, Amelia Bone’s replacement as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
Now he was positive. “You’re the one that delayed the Aurors getting to Godric’s Hollow!” Harry blurted out. “I remember it from the papers.”
Dempsher shook his head. “Yes, nobody lets me forget that blunder. I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Potter, but it was an honest mistake.”
“A mistake that could have gotten me and my friends killed!” Harry backfired.
A curious look then crossed Dempsher’s face, and he then turned to the Minister. “That reminds me, Minister. I remember reading that the court summons for Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger had been cancelled. There was a report that placed them as your friends…are they not, Mr. Potter?” he asked Harry.
Harry tried to shrug casually. “Yes, they are.”
“Yes, it’s interesting that their court summons was cancelled just before you decide to support us. Interesting coincidence is it not?” He cast a keen eye at Scrimgeour.
“Harry, go back home,” Scrimgeour advised. “And come back once a week. People have to see your face around here to believe your story, but they see it too much, and they’ll think it’s suspicious.”
Dempsher smiled and opened the door for Harry. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter.”
Harry gave a curt nod and left. When Harry walked out Percy had immediately tried to talk to him. But Harry ignored him completely. Being nice to Percy wasn’t part of the deal, and his day was already bad enough. Harry found his own way back to the lifts, went back down to the Atrium, and Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.
Down in the basement kitchen he found Hermione sitting alone with a mug in her hands. She had a glazed look in her eyes as she just stared forward.
“Uh…where’s Ron?” Harry asked, taking her by surprise.
She jumped a little. “Oh! Um, never mind that now. How did it go down at the Ministry?”
Harry decided to giver an encouraging smile as he sat across from her. “As long as I do what I’m told you and Ron should be kept out of Azkaban. And unless Scrimgeour says otherwise, I just have to appear at his side once a week. So, where’s Ron?” he asked again.
Hermione looked away. “He went out for the rest of the day. Said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning.” She sighed heavily. “Poor Ron. You should have seen him as he left. Looked like he was close to throwing up. What in blazes is he doing?” she asked for the umpteenth time.
“All we can do is wait.”
And wait they did. Harry hadn’t lost too much sleep that night since it was common for Ron to stay out all night. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. Hermione had pretty much said that Ron was nervous, and that didn’t show before now to the best of his memory.
When morning came and Ron came back he indeed looked like he had just thrown up, but was thoroughly pleased about it. At the foot of the steps Harry and Hermione just stood there watching him, wondering what to say. Ron merely looked up at them tiredly, grinned nervously, and passed them on the way up to his room.
“So you’re saying you aren’t done yet!” Harry asked two days later in the kitchen. He and Hermione had tried to pry out what Ron’s mission was ever since he had come back, and so far there was as little success as before. And when Harry tried to argue that Ron should spill it since the mission was done and over with, Ron denied that he was done.
“Nope,” Ron corrected. “You could just say that I’ll be home more often. I still have a long way to go.”
Just then Hermione came running into the kitchen with a letter in her hands. “The Council wants us,” she announced.
“What for?” Ron asked, snatching the letter and reading it over himself. “Well, can’t be anything too serious, can it? Probably babysitting or something.” Though, Harry noticed, he didn’t sound too convinced. “I mean it is getting kind of late, so we might just have an all-nighter.”
Hermione looked at him curiously. “You seem pretty well informed.” It was usually her that deduced things like that.
Ron shrugged. “Just some things I picked up at headquarters.”
“Maybe Draker spoke up again,” Harry suggested, though he severely doubted it. So, not wasting anymore time, the three of them left Grimmauld Place, and Apparated to headquarters. They ended up in a small alley to avoid any Muggle eyes. Then they ran up to the house that appeared to inflate between two others, and knocked.
The door opened, they entered, and the door slammed behind them.
“Harry, Ron, Hermione,” Lupin called from down the hall, ushering then into a room. “The briefing’s about to start.”
“Briefing?” Harry wondered out loud. Was this bigger than he thought? And indeed it was. Inside the room about a dozen or so other people were standing. All of them were simply talking amongst themselves, and there was a chalkboard on the other side. Lupin then whistled.
“Listen, now that the last of us have arrived,” he said, pointing out Harry, Ron, and Hermione, “we can begin.”
“We find a Horcrux, Remus?” a voice asked excitedly. Harry looked for the owner and saw Bethany Williams standing towards the front. She then looked back at him. “Only reason why Potter and his friends would be here, right?”
Moody then limped his way into center stage. “No,” he announced, deflating her. “But we do have a piece of very interesting information that we are going to exploit tonight.”
Intrigued, and ignoring Bethany’s semi-insulting comment, Harry listened intently. Lupin then rapped the board with his wand, and lines began to appear on it making what appeared to be floor plans.
“Through one of our sources,” Lupin began, “we found out about a Death Eater facility in a small town on the east coast. And by interrogating Pendle Draker to see if he knew anything about it, we determined that this pace is basically a prison for people that can provide very useful information.”
Ron’s eyes widened. Hermioned muttered, “Prison?” Harry could hardly believe it himself.
“While we’re just keeping Draker hidden away, and above the line of starvation,” Moody went on, “the Death Eaters are most likely doing things on the level of torture. And they have a lot of people trapped down there from what we understand, so I doubt even Severus Snape could make enough Veritaserum.”
“It’s our duty to rescue these people,” Lupin added hotly. He then pointed to the chalkboard. “The plan is simple enough, so when we run through it, we’re heading out. How many of you here know how to get to Bacton?”
About half the people”including Hermione”raised their hands.
“When were you there?” Ron asked her, surprised.
“Before I came to Hogwarts,” she answered simply. “Passed through there once when I was nine. Never knew it had a wizarding presence, though.”
Lupin smiled. “Excellent.” For the next half hour or so, he went over the floor plans tediously. He had everyone memorize the simple yet dangerous task to the letter. They were to break in, and immediately head for the door hidden behind the fireplace. Then down the stairs to where the prisoners were held. The trick was getting inside in the first place. “Apparate to the north side of the town,” Lupin finished.
In twos and threes everybody Apparated away as they were told. Hermione grabbed Harry and Ron, since they didn’t know where to head exactly, and she Apparated. When the sensation of being sucked through a tube ceased, Harry regained his vision to see that the sun had completely set. There were a few more cracks, and it seemed as if everyone made it.
“Harry, Hermione, Ron.” Lupin came up to them. “Go over with Bethany. I put her in charge of your group.”
They all nodded and found her with another wizard. “Potter,” she greeted, looking at him curiously. “Weasley. Granger.”
“Hey, Beth,” Harry said. Ron and Hermione nodded.
“You know,” said Bethany, “I heard the craziest rumor going ‘round the Ministry. People are actually saying that you went to Scrimgeour’s office, and gave him your support.”
Ron and Hermione looked away. “Yeah,” Harry said slowly.
Bethany’s eyes widened. “Why in the bloody hell would you do that? You know as well as I do we’re not getting anywhere!”
“I had no choice,” he responded, leaving it at that.
And before Bethany could say another word, the wizard said, “Hey, Beth, we’re moving out.” Harry looked, and saw that two other groups led by Moody and Lupin were headed towards the town.
“Stay alert,” Bethany ordered, waving them forward. They then went on about a dozen yards behind the rest.
Everyone moved through the streets as quietly as possible, ducking behind houses and alleys, and crossed the streets trying to avoid streetlights. Whenever a Muggle ran into them a quick mind wipe did the trick.
Finally, the group in the lead was about five houses ahead when they stopped. Bethany stuck her arm out, and led them around the corner of a house. The group that was in the middle stopped three houses behind the first.
“From what Remus said to me, we should be in for quite the show,” she said, sticking her head around. “We move in after the house is infiltrated.”
Just then a figure ran across the street to a decrepit building with no lights on. From what Harry could see in the dark, the person went up to the door and knocked. Then, a bright square of light appeared through what was probably a peephole. Suddenly, the figure raised his wand, and a red light went though hitting whoever must have been on the other side right in the face. The figure then sprinted back the way he came.
Then the door of the building burst open, and about six Death Eaters rushed out shooting spells. And immediately the first group came out into the open, and began to fight. Spells and curses flew, loud bangs erupted all over, and Harry wondered how long it’d be before neighbors came to inspect. He could see a spell being deflected, which then landed nearby.
“Blimey,” Ron breathed, looking nerve racked.
More Death Eaters then rushed out of the building, and that’s when the second group joined the fray. The reinforcements looked to have taken the Death Eaters completely by surprise, and they were dealt with quickly. And soon enough there were only three enemies to be dispatched compared to the nine or so Order members. A few went into the building and were met with spells.
“Go!” Bethany yelled. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the wizard all began sprinting to the building. They threw a few spells to the fight still going on outside, and managed to get one in their hurry.
“Stupefy!” Harry shouted, shooting the spell at the first enemy that came into view. He caught him right in the chest. Then, following the plan, Harry ran through the house, casting spell after spell towards the fireplace.
“Lanktus!”
“Watch it!” Ron yelled, shoving Harry aside, and taking the hit. The curse had tore through his shirt, and made a throbbing purple bruise.
“Ron!” Harry and Hermione yelled. Then they both threw a curse at the caster who hit him. Harry then went over to a table and turned it over, and Hermione dragged Ron behind it.
“You okay?” she asked Ron, with Harry guarding over them.
“Yeah,” he grunted, holding his injury. “Keep going!”
Harry didn’t need telling twice. The fight around them was raging. It seemed that only half the Death Eaters inside the house had gone outside to initially do battle, so the two sides were even at the moment. Lupin was already disposed of, Moody was taking two at once, and the rest were doing their best to overtake the enemy.
He then spotted a Death Eater pointing his wand at Bethany, shouting, “Avada Kedavra!”
Harry took a page out of Moody’s book. “Reducto!” he yelled, blasting Bethany aide. When the Killing Curse completely missed, Harry then pointed his wand to the would-be killer. “Stupefy!” It was blocked. A gray jet of light then hit the Death Eater causing him to be blasted right against the wall, and creating a large hole.
“Bastard,” Bethany spat scathingly at the Death Eater, clutching the spot where Harry hit her. “Thanks, Potter.” Something caught her eye, and she ran off in that direction.
Over the next ten minutes the Order started to take the upper hand. And when a new wave of reinforcements led by McGonagall came bursting through the door, Harry knew that they won the battle. Ron, despite his injury, continued to fight with a vigor Harry hadn’t seen before. Hermione took care of anyone who might try and get them from behind. When the realization that they had lost got to the Death Eaters, they began to run through the door, broke through the windows, or created an exit for themselves.
“Petrifucus Totalus!” Moody yelled, paralyzing one that was trying to make his escape. The Death Eater’s limbs snapped together, and he toppled over. “Blake! Simon! Terry!” he barked at three other people. They were all looking battle worn, but all nodded and went to the downed members of the Order. Lupin was quickly carried out of the house.
Ron then collapsed, holding his bruise in pain. “Damn! What did he do to me?” To their horror, it looked like it was spreading.
Hermione went to his side looked extremely worried. “I’m sure you’ll be okay,” she told him soothingly, taking his hand.
The one who Harry guessed was Simon came over to him, and inspected the injury himself. “Looks like a massive amount of pus formed inside,” he diagnosed with a grimace. “He has to be taken back to headquarters for treatment, or else it will get worse when it reaches the heart.”
“I’ll take him,” Hermione immediately offered. And without waiting for a response, she heaved him up and led him to the door.
“Thank, Hermione,” he said tiredly. Simon then went over to another person, and treated the wounds with his wand.
“Potter, get over here,” Moody said. He was standing over the paralyzed Death Eater. “Keep a wand over him in case he tries anything funny after I unfreeze him.” Harry did as he was told as Moody muttered the counter spell. The limbs went free, and he stood on his elbows looking at them spitefully. “Give us the password,” Moody ordered, putting his wand to his neck.
The Death Eater put on an unconvincing look of confusion. “What password?” he asked.
Moody pressed his wand tighter. “You know damned well what password. Don’t make the mistake of taking me lightly, Shaw.”
Shaw the Death Eater eyed the wand warily. “The Dark Lord shall rule.” Suddenly the fireplace went cold, and shifted towards the side to reveal stairs going down just as the floor plans showed.
“Stupefy!” The Stunning Spell hit the Death Eater right in the jaw, and he was instantly knocked out. “I need two people.”
So Harry, Moody, and two other wizards went down the stairs with their wands drawn. Then they started to hear the cries of other people asking for help. They then quickened their pace to find cells full of people. Harry was immediately disgusted at what was done to them. Many of them had bruises all over, their faces were shrunken, and they were all pale from the lack of sunlight. Some even had their hair turned unnaturally white.
“We’re saved!” many cried jubilantly when they saw them. Unfortunately, some did not take notice to them, because they looked too deranged by what was done to them. They were just sitting on the floor looking horribly into space. How many of them would regain their sanity?
Even Moody looked horrified. “Start opening cages,” he said, running over to the nearest cell and blasting it open.
Harry went over to the farthest cell, and muttered, “Alohomora!” There was a click, and the door swung open. The people who were still relatively healthy helped the ones who could barely walk. Harry himself let one man who couldn’t stand at all ride on his back”he was very light, so it wasn’t very difficult.
“You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?” he asked weakly as they went back up the stairs.
“Yes,” he answered, not really caring that he knew.
The man huffed appreciatively. “You know who I am?” Harry shook his head, concentrating on moving forward. “Let’s just say I was captured for information on press gatherings for important Ministry officials.” When Harry didn’t respond, the man said, “Name’s Barnabus Cuffe. I’m the editor for the Prophet. And if you ever need a favor after I recuperate, just owl me.”
Harry stopped at the top of the steps, and looked over his shoulder at him. “Are you serious? What if I wanted something printed that the Minister wouldn’t like?”
Barnabus Cuffe smiled. “Just say the word. I owe you one, and from what little I heard from Horace about you, it’d be worth the trouble.”
“Harry, put him down,” Bethany said, coming up to him. She had a few bandages on her face. “We’re letting the Ministry investigate the disturbance here, so they could take of these people and treat them properly.”
He nodded, and carefully placed Cuffe on a chair that was still standing. “Remember my offer,” he added.
“Oh, I will,” said Harry excitedly. But he’d have to wait until the opportune moment to bring down Scrimgeour. He could still hurt Ron and Hermione somehow. Something big had to happen so that the Minister would be far too busy to cause them more trouble….