Harry Potter and the Orb of Slytherin

Chapter 13: The Requiem of Sirius Black

Instantly, Harry Apparated to Ron's side, shielding him from Moody.

"NO!"

"Relax Potter," Moody said in an annoyed tone, his blue eye concentrated on Ron. "I can see through Weasley's transformation. I just knocked him out so we could bring him inside."

Moody pointed his wand at Ron and the great blue beast gradually turned into the pale, red-haired boy and was levitated inside, Harry following close behind. Hermione met them halfway, shocked to see Ron's unconscious form.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly. "Why was Ron outside? And where did the cerebrus go?" Harry looked at Hermione and she suddenly understood. "Of course... the Weasleys must be pure-bloods, even though they could never really know before. That would mean Ron is able to use Ramses Beauregard's Trinny charms."

"He must have come across Ramses' journal while looking for that book on Transfiguration I told him about."

They watched as Moody brought Ron back to his senses. He opened his eyes and quickly jumped up on his feet and started patting himself. "Oh thank Merlin! I thought for sure you were going to curse me Harry... and I knew Mad-Eye would!" He opened his palm and showed them the cerebrus charm. "I still had these charms in my pocket and when I opened that journal, the chant was the first thing I saw. I pulled one out and just spoke it."

"That's bloody fantastic Ron!" Harry said. "So, tell us, what is the incantation to use them?"

"I...uh..." Ron thought for a second and looked puzzled. "I don't think I can tell you."

"Why not?"

"I don't know! My brain is forbidding it if that makes sense."

"That's a powerful magic placed on those Trinny charms," Mad-Eye harrumphed, walking off to where he came from. "Do us all a favor Weasley - make sure you memorize the incantation to change back before you use those things again."

"Ron, you need to be careful using those," Hermione said with a guarded look. Harry didn't think she wanted to tread on Ron's newfound happiness in his ability to use the Trinny charms.

"Relax Hermione," Ron insisted. "When I was that cerebrus, I was fully aware of what was happening. I just wasn't used to walking on all fours and seeing from two different heads - that was a shocker."

"She's right though Ron," Harry said. "If you turn into something like a dragonfly, you could get squished real easily."

"Well, I can't imagine having to ever turn into a bug when I have a bloody hawk at my disposal. Come on Harry! Watch me try them all out!"

"Ronald! You have homework to do!" Hermione said with a stern face. "You can use them after class on Wednesday!" Ron's face fell and Harry chuckled as he was once again led back to their rooms.

* * *

January 10^th

Ron stepped out of the fireplace on the far end of the arrival hall at the Ministry of Magic, joining Harry and Hermione who had already used the floo network from Black Manor to arrive. They used magic to clear their robes of soot and then looked ahead. They had arrived in the morning in the middle of the early morning rush of Ministry employees but before the golden gates were opened for the start of the day. They began walking down towards the entrance gate, none of them speaking, just looking straight ahead. Harry noticed the fountain that had been destroyed was replaced with one of just a wizard and witch. He rolled his eyes and set them once again on the gate.

As they walked, people around them caught sight of the three young magicians and those who saw Harry's forehead began to whisper excitedly. In the blink of an eye, the talk of Harry Potter moved like a firestorm up the hall until everyone was suddenly turning to see what was happening. Jabbering, shouts, and hushed tones all met them as they reached the gate and stood in front of the guard. The security wizard in his small booth was reading the Daily Prophet as usual, apparently unaware of the commotion that had gathered around Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry cleared his throat and the man looked up from his paper with an irritated look. Once he saw Harry's scar, however, his look changed.

"Uh... um... wands... please?" He looked at Harry's staff with apprehension and alarm, but shakily held out his hand.

"I don't think so," Harry narrowed his eyes. "Tell Minister Scrimgeour Harry Potter is here to see him."

"Um... I don't have that kind of... you see, Mr. Potter... I can't--"

"Now," Harry demanded authoritatively, turning to look at the gate, focusing on not paying attention to the crowds which were just beginning to come out of their stupor. The guard went about attempting to contact the Minister of Magic while Ron and Hermione stood behind him, waiting patiently. Worthwhile was slithering around Harry's shoulders, taking in his surroundings and keeping a look out for Harry.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir?" Harry looked down to see a young girl no more than five years of age tugging at his robes. She had short brown hair and a lightly freckled nose. Harry didn't know how to react at first. He smiled and knelt down.

"Yes?" he asked in a hushed tone as the large crowd who was still gathered around them began to whisper and gab even more.

"I know who you are. My mummy said you are a hero. She said one day you would come back and make everything better and everyone will be happy again and not be afraid."

"Where is your mum?"

"She is in the hospital." Harry became sad to hear that come from a wide-eyed little girl. "She was hurt when those dead people came into our house."

"You mean in Hogsmeade?" The little girl nodded shyly.

Harry put his hand on the small witch's shoulders reassuringly. "Well, you tell your mum I will make things better. I promise." The girl smiled and ran off towards a shabby-looking wizard that must have been her father. Harry rose and looked at him; he looked back at Harry with appreciative but humbled eyes.

Loud footsteps were heard rushing up to the gate from the floo fireplaces and the large crowds waiting patiently for the gates to be opened for Harry were shoved aside by Daily Prophet reporters. Rita Skeeter herself was in front of the pack and in seconds she had muscled her way in front of Harry.

"Harry Potter! The prodigal son has returned from the dead! What a grand entrance you are making! Where have you been? Are you out fighting You-Know-Who? Rumor has it you actually cracked under the stress and St. Mungo's took you into their psychiatric ward. Is this true? Are you mentally sound? Just a few words..."

Hermione looked furiously at Skeeter and Ron had to put her hand on her shoulder to keep her from going after her. Skeeter spotted Hermione and suddenly looked fearful. She became speechless for a couple seconds, which was just long enough for the other reporters to begin to hound Harry with questions that he ignored. He turned to give the security wizard a withering look, making the man jump in his seat and shrugging in a worried "I don't know where he is" manner. However, heavy footsteps answered Harry's silent question as Scrimgeour and four other witches and wizards strode with heavily grimaced faces up to the gate on the other side - Percy and Umbridge were among them. The other two Harry had never seen and were probably brought in when Scrimgeour took his post as Minister of Magic. One was a portly wizard with a long mustache that reminded Harry a little too much of his uncle's. The other was a tall witch who had an expression on her face that resembled Madam Pomfrey's, pursed lips and withering, disapproving gaze and all. The gate opened instantly and Scrimgeour limped up to face Harry - they looked at each other for what seemed like a lifetime, the crowd quiet in expectation of forthcoming words.

"Quite the entrance, Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour said with a scowl. He had more grey in his wild hair then the last time they had met and the bags under his eyes gave his tough outer demeanor a tired look. He had not had pleasant times in his first year as Minister of Magic.

"Cut the crap Scrimgeour. We need to talk." Scrimgeour's eyes flashed with anger before realizing the whole of the Daily Prophet and Ministry of Magic was watching them.

"Very well. Come with us. Your two friends can wait here."

"Ron and Hermione come with me or I walk, and I guarantee Minister, I will not be coming back."

"At the very least leave the animal behind!" he growled referring to the calm Worthwhile. Harry only narrowed his eyes.

"Fine!" he growled, turning and walking back through the gates. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed and the crowd of Ministry workers went on talking while others gave reporters accounts of how Harry arrived and just what he said. Ron and Hermione heard among their reports things that did not actually happen and couldn't help but snicker - it was exactly as they had planned. The Prophet was going to build Harry up and their alliance with the Ministry of Magic, if it worked out, would solidify Harry's standing.

They kept an even step through the small hallway towards the many lifts; Scrimgeour walked all the way to the end and clicked the button that opened a much larger magical elevator than the others. They got in to the spacious lift and one of the unknown wizards clicked the number nine button. The ride to the floor was extremely tense, but Harry just smiled with a withering dead look, his eyes flashing.

Finally arriving, Harry stepped out into familiar settings, but a different route was taken as they were led to presumably Scrimgeour's office or a conference room. People who were just reaching their offices were still poking their heads around trying to get one more peek at Harry. They reached a large steel door and Scrimgeour pulled out a long, bulky set of keys from his robes. Singling out one, he inserted it into the lock. The door gave a sort of glow and then opened. They all stepped in to a large white room filled only with a long table and chairs. There were no windows or posters or decorations of any kind and it was extremely silent. Scrimgeour, Umbridge, Percy, and the two other people sat down on the far end of the table, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione did not sit down.

"If we're going to do this," Hermione said with a deadly look on her face, pointing at Umbridge, "she will not be present." The toad-like face of Delores Umbridge withered under Hermione, Ron, and Harry's fierce glares.

"She is still my second," Scrimgeour gritted, half-irritated and half-scared.

"She almost used an Unforgivable Curse on a student," Ron said in a disgusted voice. "We ought to blast her where she stands."

"Minister," Harry began calmly, tapping his staff menacingly with his hand. "She has no place here. I have made my peace with what she has done, but I am afraid my friends have not, and there's no knowing what they are liable to do to her. She would be safer if she were absent."

Scrimgeour's eyes widened upon hearing of their accusations - something he had never heard. He turned and whispered in Umbridge's ear. She sneered in loathing, got up from the table and waddled out of the room. Silence permeated the room as Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked across the table at Scrimgeour, Percy, and the two remaining Ministry officials. Harry looked at each of them; Percy gave the smallest of winks and Harry gave a half-smirk before taking command of the session.

"Minister Scrimgeour, it is high time we put aside our differences and work together to defeat Voldemort." Scrimgeour and the two others winced at hearing the Dark Lord's name. "For too long, the Ministry has stubbornly refused to listen to Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix... yes the Order. Don't pretend like you don't know of the organization."

"We have been trying to cooperate with you!" Scrimgeour said angrily.

"No, you have been trying to bully me. The difference is that your pride is what is at stake. For us to be able to help each other and bring this maniacal wizard down, you must sacrifice it."

Scrimgeour glared at him, but Harry only smiled. Hermione continued for him.

"Minister, Harry's return is becoming big news all over the world. The looks on everyone's faces down in the entrance hall was enough for everyone here to know he will be welcomed back as a hero. What Harry means is that you know you cannot afford to be enemies with us any longer, but with Harry's support, you would have a much stronger ally for your cause."

"But our help comes with a price," Ron finished.

"Money?" the stout man with the long handlebar mustache said angrily, standing up. He had a deep voice that matched his stature. "You want money after all your time gone? Some hero you are Potter!"

"We don't want money you great big prat!" Ron shouted defiantly.

"Sit down, Quigley," Scrimgeour said with a restrained voice.

"We want the things you're stealing from people!" Ron continued, calming himself. "We want the lives you've stolen just to make people think you're actually worth more than the robes you're wearing!"

"Precisely," Hermione said, her arms folded. "We want full cooperation from you, making up for the lives you are destroying in the name of your so-called justice and sideways diplomacy. All of the prisoners the Ministry locked up based on whimsical or completely false information must be set free immediately with a full pardon and public apology."

"This is what is meant by sacrificing your pride, Minister," Harry said coolly. "You are going to have to come clean, as well as set things right. Not only that, but I want the Daily Prophet to become completely independent of the Ministry. You cannot choke them into reporting Ministry agenda any longer."

"Will that be all?" Scrimgeour asked through his teeth.

"No," Ron answered. "We want a tour."

"A tour?" the witch next to Scrimgeour said with absolute disdain. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Well Miss... um... I'm sorry what was your name again?"

"Pastley," the woman answered, irritated.

"Pastley..." Ron repeated, trying to contain a laugh that was also welling inside of Harry. "We want a full unrestricted tour of the Department of Mysteries."

"Excuse me?" Scrimgeour interrupted, unnerved. "You must be out of your bloody minds! Didn't you already get a good look at everything down there already?"

"Oh we sure did," Hermione replied sarcastically. "As we went through alarmingly pitiful Ministry defenses to fight Death Eaters for a prophesy hidden deep within these building walls, we saw many frightening things, some of which we are not happy about, especially concerning the veil."

"Oh you mean Black, aye?" Quigley said with an evil little grin. "So you got a lesson in what happens when people snoop where they -" The wizard suddenly stopped short. He almost looked confused, staring ahead and starting to look scared. He was having a hard time breathing and as every second passed, his face became more and more red. His obvious lack of air supply became apparent to Scrimgeour and Pastley and they began to ask him what was happening. Hermione looked at Harry who was staring intently at the struggling Quigley with his hand clenched tightly around his staff and his eyes blazing a furious green flame.

"Harry," she said softly, placing a hand on his arm, "let it go. They are not our enemies... let it go."

Instantly, Quigley breathed in heavily and gasped for lungfuls of air as Harry calmed himself. Quigley looked up in complete fear and ran out of the room, leaving Percy, Scrimgeour, and Pastley behind.

"Should you not comply with any of our demands," Hermione continued calmly, her hand still on Harry's arm, "you will lose our allegiance and you will have to explain to the public why Harry has denounced the Ministry of Magic."

"Very well," Scrimgeour said, defeated. "We will take the tour now. After that, however, I want full knowledge of where you have been and what you know about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This is an alliance after all?"

"Indeed," Harry said with a small smile, getting up from his chair. "I will expect the same from the Ministry."

Scrimgeour stood up and Pastley and Percy followed suit. "I will have to clear the red tape. It will take a few hours."

"Harry, we can go visit my dad," Ron said.

"Okay. Minister," Harry decided, "send us a memo when you are ready for us. Take your time. I know you are going to want to alert the world of our alliance and that is what I was aiming for. I hope we can put our differences aside and work together to defeat Lord Voldemort. So much is riding on our success and I came here because I need the Ministry's help as much as you need the Order's."

Scrimgeour's expression changed a bit and relaxed. He nodded and led Harry, Ron, and Hermione out of the room. Left at the lift, the three made their way to the second floor to Mr. Weasley's office. Walking through the halls towards the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects, Ron and Hermione reached the door and knocked, but Harry stopped short. He heard voices talking about something that caught his attention. Ron and Hermione did not notice Harry's backtread and walked into Mr. Weasley's office as Harry stepped close to the nearby open door where the voices were coming from.

"What is it Harry?" Worthwhile asked quietly into his ear.

"I heard something - a word I've heard before," Harry whispered back. He trained his concentration on the hushed conversation coming from behind the door.

"I just don't believe it Mafalda!" a nasally voice said, sounding completely shocked and almost offended at what he had been told. Harry turned his head in thought. He recognized the name spoken. "We haven't heard of that magic being used in over a thousand years!"

"Believe it Dwingood," a woman said in response, sounding just as offended. "My intelligence is never faulty. The magic known as Amor Immensus was found to have been used somewhere in England. We were unable to locate the place it was used, which means someone who is hiding from us used it. At first, we didn't know what to think of it. We thought there was a mistake which is why it took us so long to let anyone else in on this information. We are going to have to report to Minister Scrimgeour."

"Merlin's beard this is bad! If You-Know-Who is the one using it, then it could spell disaster. It's rumored that magic is unstoppable!"

"Well, hopefully the fact that it has only been used once in the past six months is a good sign that You-Know-Who hasn't actually obtained that kind of power yet, but we can only speculate. He might not even be the one who employed it."

"Yeah... yeah of course. Ha ha!" Dwingood huffed in relief. "Why would someone as villainous as You-Know-Who try to use magic based on love?" His face shifted to a worried look again. "Unless... unless he just doesn't care what it's based on as long as it does what he wants. I mean how do we know he hasn't just blocked us from discovering when the magic is used again? What if he's mastered full use of it?"

"Calm yourself Colin! We're going to make a report to the Minister. We will just have to prepare ourselves and make the most ready defense possible. Remember, Harry Potter is back seemingly from the dead and You-Know-Who hasn't shown up in months!"

"Y-you are right. Well, I guess I had best be off to my office. Thank you Ms. Hopkirk." Harry suddenly remembered the name. Mafalda Hopkirk was the one who had sent him the owl the day Dobby had showed up at the Dursleys' his second year. "I will wait to hear from you and hopefully things will work out in due time." Footsteps walked towards the door and Harry quickly retreated to Mr. Weasley's office. Opening the door, he banged into something hard and heard a yell. Peeking around the door, he spotted Ron on the floor, rubbing his head.

"Sorry mate," Harry said sheepishly.

"Where were you?" Ron asked, getting up with the help of Hermione and his father, still rubbing his head and squinting. "We just noticed you weren't with us." Harry told them everything he had heard.

"Amor Immensus is the magic Slytherin referred to, Harry," Worthwhile said excitedly. "I remember now. You mentioned it when you told me and Ramses about your confrontation with him."

"That's right! I remember now!" Harry said, putting his hand to his forehead in realization. He looked at his friends and Mr. Weasley and told them what he overheard. "Slytherin said it was the magic Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw used to overpower and contain him."

"Harry, that is a magic on the Ministry's short list of 'very dangerous if ever used again' kinds of magic," Mr. Weasley said in an uncharacteristically ominous voice. "If what you say is true, then the Ministry is going to once again be in extremely full alert. If Voldemort is using this magic, it could mean the end for the Ministry - from what we do know, it is beyond any power we could ever imagine."

"If he has it, he would have used it by now, right?" Ron asked.

"Unless he hasn't mastered it," Hermione suggested. "Or maybe he intends to use it to contain Harry."

"I find it hard to believe it would take Voldemort so long to master anything concerning magic," Harry huffed. "Although considering it's supposedly based in love, he might be having a hard time. My bet, however, is that he doesn't have it but knows it's being used. He might have his own way of tracking the use of certain magic he knows of, just like the Ministry."

"That could explain why he's been off the radar lately," Hermione said.

"What's a radar?" Mr. Weasley asked. Harry smirked and Hermione explained it to him as best she could. "Amazing. Simply amazing what Muggles think of!"

"So is anyone else thinking that this great terrible magic that sprang up is the thing stolen from the Royal Library at Alexandria?" Ron said uneasily.

"That can't be," Hermione replied. "The theft happened only a couple months ago, but the spell the Ministry tracked was earlier, right Harry?"

"Hopkirk said it was used once in the past six months," Harry said with a frown. "It might be possible; or perhaps Voldemort is searching for not just one kind of magic or weapon. On the other hand, we don't even know that this is all related or if Voldemort is even behind it. The only thing I do know is that what was stolen in Egypt has something to do with the Ministry - Amor Immensus being cast for the first time in a millennium hardly seems like a coincidence."

"Harry, you said Hopkirk said the magic was cast here in England," Ron said curiously. "Shouldn't that be a good bet it is Voldemort who is using it?"

"Unfortunately, you may have something Ron," Harry sighed. "That does seem pretty weird to be chance. We will just have to keep going. Hopefully our working with the Ministry and Scrimgeour will provide some help... and answers."

A paper airplane memo had finally zoomed into Mr. Weasley's office and unfolded neatly on his desk after over five hours of patient waiting. Harry knew Scrimgeour must have taken longer than expected because of Hopkirk's report. They had been instructed to meet him and two escorts at the door that led to the Department of Mysteries - that door that was etched into Harry's mind so well. Led into the depths of the Ministry, they were shown everything they could handle. Some things they had trouble looking at without feeling sick - other places gave them a newfound wonder in the world of magic. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were allowed to see what very few others could ever dream of and they understood why.

"What I don't understand," Hermione said as they entered the dark, circular access room, blue candles lighting the way, "is why there was no security the night the Ministry was broken into? Where was everybody?"

"What you must understand, Ms. Granger," Scrimgeour replied with a sardonic emphasis on the miss, "is that we had very tight security as we did every night, but they were jumped by the Death Eaters. Now you surely won't watch me stand here telling you the Ministry couldn't have done more... I most definitely would have done a much better job than Fudge... but we just were not prepared."

"But why even use guards?" Hermione persisted as the many different doors whizzed around at a dizzying rate. "Why not use magic to guard the Department? You had powerful agents protecting the prophesies and even one of these doors!"

"We have many Unspeakables who work here. To undo and redo that kind of magic is absurd to even consider, unless we don't intend for those certain guarded objects to be touched very often. The door you mentioned, for instance - until today, we had not opened it in decades. I would imagine I don't have to tell you why."

"We understand, Minister," Harry said quietly, looking straight ahead as the spinning doors came to a stop. "But there are some things that should not even exist. Why do you keep them?"

"Mr. Potter, believe me when I say the Ministry of Magic does not consider anything here to be a toy," Scrimgeour said coolly. "If it is kept here, then it exists because it's possible it might have a very good use with study or..."

"Or you can't destroy it to begin with," Hermione finished for him.

"Precisely."

Harry pointed towards a door, his eyes flashing. "Such as this?"

Scrimgeour lifted his eyebrows dubiously. He walked to the door Harry had pointed to and opened it. It was indeed the last door, the room that contained the dreaded veil. "How did you know this was the last door?" he asked curiously.

Harry walked past Scrimgeour, his face set in a determined grimace. He paused and looked into the dimly lit rectangular room. The air inside was cold and the feeling inside Harry's heart matched it. As before, there was no draft, no noise... nothing but a scene so finely etched into Harry's mind that he had little need to actually view the room. He made his way to the dais, stepping down with trepid determination.

"How did he know this was the room?" Scrimgeour asked quietly askance to Hermione. "These doors are supposed to be perfectly alike - there is no difference between them."

"Trust me when I tell you Minister..." Hermione said sadly, "Harry knows this room and the door that leads to it more than the whole of the Ministry."

"What exactly is that thing?" Ron asked, pointing to the veil.

"We don't know. We have never known," Scrimgeour answered with genuine pity in his voice. "We know that those who have seen death can hear voices, just like they can see thestrals. We also know that those who have taken life with their own hands can understand these voices. It has been here for centuries, first created by ancient Saxon warlocks - we have tried to destroy it, but that is impossible - no magic we have tried could ever bring it down. Time is doing its part, but that's all we have. The Ministry itself was housed around that archway centuries ago so as to protect its whereabouts. Many who know of this arch's existence believe it to be a gateway to the world of the dead, but no one really knows. Who would look behind the veil?"

"I think you're right about the voices," Ron said, pointing down to where Harry stood. "It almost looks like he understands them now. I can hear them as well, but if it didn't sound so appealing, I would think it was utter gibberish. The words make absolutely no sense to me."

"You can hear them?" Scrimgeour asked.

"We witnessed a Death Eater die last spring, remember? That was the first time Hermione or I had ever seen someone die. That must be why we can hear them now... and since Harry has killed someone before, he must be able to understand what the voices are saying."

"A handful of men who have worked at the Ministry in the past few hundred years have fallen prey to its allure... fallen in, never to be seen again. I'm surprised you resist them so easily."

"I don't think it's possible to be around Harry as long as we have," Hermione spoke up, "and not develop some kind of mental resistances to these kinds of things."

"If you understand each other so well, then tell me," Scrimgeour said, "what is he doing now?" Harry was continuing to gaze at the veil with a stoic guard to his face. Despite the lack of air current, the veil, along with Harry's cloak, flitted gracefully as if they were caught in a light breeze. "How does Harry Potter face his demons?"

"The only way he knows how... head on."

Harry gazed at the dark, tattered veil with a new respect for the world he lived in. He had seen so much and learned so many things, but it was all beyond him. What did he have that magic did not conquer? What could he learn without the ever-haunting realization that something could replace it?

"Master, are you alright?" Worthwhile asked quietly. He was shivering slightly, but stayed at Harry's side.

"I will be, Worthwhile," Harry said evenly, his voice as smooth and calm as the morning breeze. "There are so many things on my shoulders, so many weights that I always feel need lifting. Dealing with my fault in Sirius' death is one of them. I look at this barrier in front of me, blocking my way to the 'what if' and I hear voices I've never heard before, all of them luring me... inviting me behind the veil. I feel so many different emotions all at the same time that I'm afraid of the day when I might just go crazy."

"For every pain you hold onto, you also have something to fight for. I have never seen you give up Master, and I know you never will. Once you see that for every time you are defeated, you rise stronger than before, you will, at that moment, become undefeatable."

"Dumbledore always used to tell me that love is the conqueror of all ails - all troubles. The thing of it is, I believe him, but my ultimate fear is having nothing left to love. What do I do then?"

"The day you have no one left is the day the world dies, Master. You are loved the world over and you fight for those same people."

"I fight for their freedom, but I fight for the love of those who first loved me. Hermione, Ron and his family, my friends from school, the Order, the brave wizards and witches we befriended on our travels... they all are my true treasures; however, with each new step I take, death haunts me. I look at this veil and I hear these seductive voices clambering to take me... and I have these feelings of wanting to go... to end it and be done so I can just rest."

"But you won't," Worthwhile whispered.

"No... I have so much to live for. I see it clearly, Worthwhile. The new task I have now is to unburden myself... resolve the conflict in my heart, so I can fight with a cleared head and renewed spirit... and it starts..." Harry tapped his staff against the ground twice, "...with Sirius."

The orb on his staff detached and rose into the air, floating gently between them and the veil. It began to glow brightly and in a few moments, a light song emitted softly from the crystal. It was a beautiful, but heartbreaking song that reverberated throughout the room in sad melancholy. The words were undistinguishable - it was a language that no one had ever heard before, but Hermione, Ron, Scrimgeour, and the two silent aides who were behind him all began crying silently as they listened. The tune echoed in each of their souls and they all understood the meaning of the song. It came from Harry - from his heart. The entire story was played out in their minds - the song touched them in a way they never knew they could be touched and they knew of Harry's love for Sirius; they could feel his pain in never knowing family, never knowing his parents, and getting so little time to spend with his godfather. The song was a tribute to him and was a final parting gift... it came from the depths of his soul - the orb simply let the people surrounding him hear it.

The song finally came to a gentle, but glorious end and the orb quietly returned to Harry's staff. Harry nodded his head and returned to the party's side, all of whom were sniffing and calming down in a morose state. He walked by and Hermione and Ron followed in his wake as he walked out of the Department of Mysteries. Scrimgeour bowed his head, unable to understand how he could have been so foolish.

END Chapter 13