Resurgence of Evil

CHAPTER 5:

The others seated themselves slowly, and once everyone had found someplace to sit, the Minister began. "The situation with the Death Eaters has taken an unexpected turn. It’s reached a critical point — there is a leader, rallying the ranks of Dark witches and wizards. It’s not Voldemort, by any means — but the potential to break apart the Ministry and destroy both the wizarding and muggle worlds is very great."

I frowned. I hadn’t known the situation was as critical as the Minister had revealed, and wondered again about my presence.

"This alone the Ministry could handle, if not for the information we received recently. The Dementors have thrown their strength behind the new leader, whomever he or she might be," Harry said, his voice grave and eyes hard. "Unfortunately, we don’t have enough knowledge about the Death Eaters to determine who this leader is." His eyes turned to me, and I saw that several other people were looking in my direction.

"To my knowledge, it could be anyone," I said. "Any of the Death Eaters, a member of the Ministry, even someone in this room."

"Is anyone above suspicion?" Neville snapped, irritated.

"Only the dead," I replied coldly. "And sometimes not even them." There was a slight pause. "I don’t know who could be the new head. I haven’t had contact with the Death Eaters since May — four months. In the time before I went underground, Voldemort was recruiting greater numbers of Death Eaters than ever before. People were fleeing to his ranks for many reasons - fear, ambition, to save their families and friends." I shrugged.

"I don’t believe you." Neville Longbottom again, predictably. I rolled my eyes. Neville suddenly pointed his wand at me and said, "Dice veritas!"

Surprised, I threw up a shield, but it was weak. I dove to the side as it crumbled, somehow feeling the spell hit my wall of magic and burrow through. The chair exploded in a shower of splinters. I pulled out my wand, weakened and furious. By this time, everyone had a wand out, pointed in different directions. The majority, however, were aimed at me. I got to my feet, forced to grab the wall as the world spun around me.

For that small moment, that weak shield, I had drained the slowly-replenishing well of wandless magic within me — magic I had been careful to rebuild since the last —

My head spun, and my vision blacked out, then slowly faded back in. I was deaf to every sound but the blood pounding through my ears- but not surprised to find my legs weak.

Neville looked satisfied, and Harry said, "Thanks, Neville."

"What was that about?" I snapped, short of breath.

"I needed to show everyone that you could control wandless magic," said Harry.

Totally blindsided, I said blankly, "What?"

"Everyone in this room knows that you defeated Voldemort," Harry said. My head snapped up and I tensed, leaning against the wall more than I would have liked. "Priori Incantatem was preformed on my wand, and came up with no spell that could have defeated Voldemort. I told them the truth," he said. "The press doesn’t know," he said, correctly interpreting my look of horror. "But several were — dubious, and needed proof," said Harry, glancing sidelong as McGonagall.

"I need to sit," I said abruptly. I took a small step and my knees gave. I clutched at the wall and glared at Lupin as he moved toward me on one side. I steadied myself, moving carefully to the chair.

Harry frowned. "Did the spell hit you? What happened?"

I sat, burying my face in my hands. I really didn't want to have to tell the truth, but I'd promised myself at my trial that the façade was over. Direct question, direct answer. It took me a moment to respond, to force the answer out through stiff lips. "No. I’m burned out." I raked a hand through my hair and sat back in frustration, starting to feel pissed off.

"What?"

I glared across the room. "You heard me. It’s been taking me a while to recover, magically. That well-timed little incident-" here I glanced at Neville "-pretty much drained what I’ve built up in the last few months."

"Are you sure?"

In answer, I reached out a hand and, palm up, raised my arm. Across the room, one of the plants on the windowsill rose several inches into the air. I felt sweat bead on my forehead as I turned my hand, and the plant rotated. My hand shook and the plant dropped, hitting the floor with the crash of breaking pottery. I said back, gasping, feeling sweat run down my face from less than thirty seconds’ exertion.

"You can’t do magic at all?" asked Sirius.

"That’s not what I said," I answered, taking out my wand. I pointed it at the plant and said, "Reparo." The ceramic pot reassembled itself and with a flick of my wand it returned to its place on the sill.

There was a bit of muttering throughout the room. "How long will this last?" asked Ron abruptly.

I shrugged. "I don’t know."

"Is there anything — a potion, a spell — that could . . . ." This from Harry.

"Fix it?" I shrugged. "I’ve searched. So far, I haven’t found anything." It was a minor stretch of the truth. "But why do you care, anyway?" I was suspicious of the sudden subdued atmosphere in the room.

"Well, it would be nice for you to have a trump card," said Ron.

"Weasley, I always knew you were crazy, but now you’re completely unintelligible as well. What the hell are you talking about?" I asked bluntly, looking at him strangely. He glared at me and opened his mouth, but the Minister replied, cutting off a scathing remark in mid-utterance.

"We were going to ask you to re-infiltrate the ranks of Death Eaters," he said baldly. It was so unexpected, and he said it so casually — as if he already knew that I would agree - that I froze.

I blinked and said coldly, "What gave you the idea that I would ever agree to that?"

Apparently my reaction was unexpected. "We thought - " Harry started, looking taken aback.

"You thought wrong," I interrupted. "I may have been a Death Eater, but most of Voldemort’s supporters believe they saw me die — and there were several who knew that I am alive."

"Were?" asked McGonagall carefully.

"Yes. Unfortunately, they died rather recently." I looked around the room at the stony, unbelieving faces around me. "I’ve had enough of this foolishness," I said, my contempt evident. I stood up slowly, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. Taking a deep breath, I moved quickly to the closest Apparition point and transported myself to my apartment.

I locked down the wards, and began packing my belongings. There was only so much doubt and suspicion I could take from others before my patience ran out. I was particularly angry that the Ministry members had tested me like that — I was now weaker than before, for no reason. I was also without a surprise weapon that had before saved my life when Death Eaters, knowing of my existence, had sought me out, howling revenge for my treason to Voldemort. The more people who knew that I had actually killed him, the greater the potential that the Death Eaters would find out and come after me, seeking blood and revenge.