Arthur M

Thanks first to my best friend Hawk, whose help, ideas, feedback and encouragement are always invaluable. A big thank you to Mad Madam Mim and her sister April. I was debating whether to even write this story due to its grim nature. Madam Mim not only encouraged me to write it, but she and April gave me some excellent ideas, such as making Dumbledore King Duncan (I had initially planned on using Cornelius Fudge) and making Sibyll Trelawney, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil the three witches.


* * * * *

Prologue

"Show me," Ginny Weasley whispered as she peered intently into an oval-shaped mirror.

The mirror was slightly larger than the young woman's face. A tangle of wings, clawed limbs, grotesque gargoyle heads and serpentine bodies, all of tarnished silver, made up the frame.

The reflection first showed a young woman, now in her early 20s, with flaming red hair tied in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, with several tangled strands framing her face. Her large brown eyes peered eagerly, almost hungrily, into the mirror's surface.

"Show me," she whispered again. "Him. Lord Voldemort." The name, where once even the thought of saying it out loud would have given her a thrill of horror, rolled off her tongue smoothly, caressingly, as a spider stroking its prey before the bite.

The surface of the mirror began to grow foggy, obscuring Ginny's reflection. Then the surface cleared again to reveal a pale humanoid figure with glowing red eyes. He was speaking soundlessly to dozens of his followers, the Death Eaters. The young woman narrowed her eyes into slits, concentrating. This was the hard part, hearing his words, reading his mind ....

If someone were to have entered that tiny room in 12 Grimmauld Place and seen Ginny Weasley then, they would have thought her a wax statue so still she sat. The room itself was almost bare. A cot rested in one corner, covered in a white sheet. There was a faded silver, purple and red floor rug beneath Ginny's feet, and the young witch sat at a battered ironwood desk on an equally ratty-looking wooden chair. A tattered tapestry of a Medieval hunt scene was on the dirty stone wall. It was early in the morning; the first rays of light stretched tentative yellow fingers through the narrow, mullioned window.

Ginny sat like this for a long time, unmoving, concentrating on the conversation in the mirror. Finally, she smiled.

"Finis," she whispered in triumph. "Nox."

She gingerly placed the mirror back on the desk. Just then, there was a tentative knock on the door.

"Come in," she called out, her voice tired but pleased. "I am finished."

Arthur Weasley, her brother Bill and Albus Dumbledore entered the room.

"It must have been a strong connection today," Arthur said. "We knocked twice before, but heard no answer." Bill, meanwhile, handed his younger sister a steaming mug of green tea with lemon, which Ginny took gratefully.

"I hope you didn't overdo it," Dumbledore said as he took in the woman's pale face and slightly shaking hands.

"I'm all right," Ginny replied. "You, father and Bill always worry too much. This is the best way to get information from the Dark Lord, since it is too dangerous for Snape to spy at his meetings now. Besides," and her eyes gleamed menacingly, "I relish the fact that I am paying him back for possessing me when I was a child. I live for the day that the Dark Lord will realize the terrible error of that. He probably doesn't even realize the connection still exists between us."

"Most certainly not," Dumbledore agreed. His eyes still reflected his concern, but he said nothing further.

"So," Arthur said. "Were you able to find out anything?" His expression was hopeful.

Ginny smiled triumphantly. "Oh yes, I have. A lot of things, and if we play our cards right, I believe it will be enough to turn the tide decisively in our favor."

The other three wizards listened as Ginny related what she saw and heard....

* * * * *

The Daily Prophet

July 15, 2003

DARK LORD, ARMIES, FORCED TO FLEE

Brilliant attack by Order of the Phoenix in Scotland results in arrest of 32 suspected Death Eaters

By Rita Skeeter

Reporter

Those fighting against He Who Must Not Be named scored a decisive victory yesterday in the outskirts of Forres in an intensely pitched battle lasting several hours.

The Dark Lord suffered heavy losses, with more than 100 Death Eaters confirmed dead, another 64 wounded and 32 arrested. The Order of the Phoenix, led by Albus Dumbledore, had 26 confirmed dead or wounded.

Several of those fighting against You Know Who are expected to be awarded the Godric Cross for especial bravery in battle, including Dumbledore himself and Harry Potter, who personally confronted the Dark Lord and helped force his retreat. Arthur Weasley, who was wounded in battle but is expected to make a full recovery, and his sons Bill and Ron Weasley and daughter Ginny Weasley are also expected to get the Cross, which is the highest honor the Wizarding World bestows on wizards in wartime situations. They are to be commended for putting their lives on the line and assisting two dozen Muggle and civilian wizards fleeing the battlefield. Arthur and Ginny Weasley will also receive a medal for special services for uncovering and capturing Dalziel Cawdor, who is suspected to have been a spy working for the Dark Lord.

The Ministry is divided whether another member of the Order, werewolf Remus Lupin, would be eligible for commendation for his actions for pulling Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt to safety after both were wounded. Generally, said one of the members who wished to remain anonymous, such commendations are reserved for human mages.

Among the arrested Death Eaters include several who are believed to have been in You Know Who's inner circle, including Lucius Malfoy, Atherton Nott, Augustus Rookwood, Walden Macnair...."

* * * * *

ACT I

Two wizards, a young man in his mid-30s with long red hair tied back into a ponytail at the base of his neck, and an older wizard whose equally red hair was beginning to gray at the temples, were leisurely strolling along Diagon Alley. They walked slowly past the storefronts, for the older man used a cane and walked with a slight limp, favoring his right leg.

Both wizards held their wands straight upright, and the fine, steady stream of drizzle that fell from the sky bounced harmlessly around them.

"So foul and fair a day I have not seen," said Arthur Weasley as he looked up at the sky with a rueful smile.

"One would think Mother Nature would cooperate more," Bill Weasley replied with a chuckle. "After all, our days are the brightest I can remember in many a year, at least figuratively. How's the leg, father?"

"Oh, I'm holding up all right," Arthur replied. "It's a bit stiff with all of this wet weather, but ...." And his smile grew thinner still. "It's better than it was a week ago. But let's hurry to The Apothecary, now," Arthur laughed good-naturedly. "Your mother is wanting some cinnamon and brown sugar to make rolls tonight, and she will be cross if we tarry."

Their progress was suddenly halted by two young witches, dressed in white frocks draped with colorful silk scarves, who were dancing and singing in front of a storefront and blocking their passage. Both of them clutched half-empty glass bottles. Their bare feet were splashing in the puddles that were forming on the cobblestones.

"Oh my," Bill said, and he choked back a laugh. He glanced at the chipped black wood sign above them on the storefront, which advertised in large, blocky white letters: "Trelawney, Patil and Brown, Readers and Advisors." In smaller, white script below, it read: "Ready to help you prepare for the future with foresight."

Suddenly, the witches stopped dancing and stared at the two Weasleys.

"Why, if it isn't Arthur and Bill Weasley," piped up one, a pretty witch with an olive complexion and raven black hair done in a plait.

"Two distinguished war heroes," sang the other with a porcelain complexion and sandy brown hair. Both witches then took long pulls from their bottles and giggled insanely.

"Hail!" said the first, with a deep curtsey.

"Hail!" said the second, with an identical curtsey.

"Hail!" a third voice called out from the doorway, an older witch dressed in a gaudy, sequined dress and similar colored scarves. She wasn't carrying a bottle, but by her glazed look and silly grin, it looked as if she, too, had been indulging.

"Professor Trelawney?" Bill asked, recognizing his former Divinations teacher at the doorway.

"Come in! Come in!" Trelawney said, beckoning the two wizards inside. "Let us see what the future holds for you!" The two younger witches flew in, their scarves fluttering like multicolored wings.

"I don't think ...." Bill said, and he started to walk away.

"Oh, come on, Bill," Arthur said. "It will be fun, just a lark. Besides," he cast a look at the building and its shabby appearance. "It looks like they've just started out, and we can part with a sickle or two. We can afford it now."

Bill rolled his eyes but decided to humor his father. They both entered the small, cramped room and looked around. The two witches they had seen earlier were seated cross-legged on large red velveteen poufs, watching them. The chipped black walls were partially covered in drapes of red and purple. Tall candelabras stood in three corners of the room, and the ivory candles filled the room with a strong smell of cinnamon and incense. A small hutch held a motley array of teapots and cups. A cat the color of smoke napped on a low table, it's thick, bushy tail curled around the base of a large crystal ball, its paws resting on a deck of Tarot cards.

"Shoo, Graymalkin, shoo!" Trelawney scolded, and she waved her hands at the slumbering feline.

Graymalkin yawned and stretched. He looked at Trelawney irritably from his blue eyes before standing, stretching again and leisurely hopping down from his perch. He soon curled up in one of the many poufs strewn around the room and resumed his interrupted nap.

Bill helped his father sit on a bright red pouf on the floor as Trelawney started to take a seat near the crystal ball. However, she stumbled into the edge and jostled the ball loose from its holder, a wooden ring painted gold and decorated with rhinestones.

"Conversing with the spirits rather heavily aren't you?" Bill asked dryly as Trelawney grabbed the crystal ball and collapsed into her seat. "Especially since it's not even afternoon yet."

"Bill!" Arthur reprimanded.

"But of course," Trelawney said breezily. "It is important that I keep in ever-close contact with all of the spirits around us, no matter what form they choose to take." She Summoned a bottle to her hand and took a long pull. The older witch then placed her bejeweled hands lightly on the crystal ball. The two younger witches moved closer to her and peered into the clear sphere, which started to turn cloudy.

"Ahhhh," Trelawney whispered, and she looked over her glasses at Bill. "You, you have lost someone close to you, your wife, I believe ... yes, she was beautiful. Like the flower she was named for."

"That is common knowledge for anyone who reads the papers or listens to the Wireless," Bill said stiffly. Two months later, the death of his wife Fleur was still like a fresh wound.

Arthur reached out and gently squeezed Bill's hand. "Her murderer will be brought to justice tomorrow," he said fiercely. "Malfoy may have slipped through the Ministry's fingers twice before, but he will not escape retribution a third time, mark my words! He will pay for her death, and all the other crimes he has committed if it's the last thing I do!"

"Arthur Weasley," Trelawney continued. "You will become head of the Muggle Relations department ...."

Arthur laughed good-naturedly. "I'm already that. Have been, for some years now. Perhaps you need to get your crystal ball updated...."

"You will also become Defense Strategist," Trelawney continued dreamily.

Arthur and Bill exchanged sharp looks.

"Cawdor's seat on the cabinet?" Arthur exclaimed to his son, his eyes wide. "That hasn't been decided yet...."

"And soon after, Minister," Trelawney said.

"Ooo yes," said the dark-haired witch, and she pointed at the crystal ball. "I can see the bowler hat! That means authority! But what does that cup...?"

Trelawney hastily pushed the girl away, and the younger witch looked up, surprised. But the older witch continued to stare in the crystal ball's surface with an intent look.

"Minister?" Arthur whispered, his expression uneasy. "You don't mean Minister of Magic? But Dumbledore...."

"Well, he's only Minister of Magic de facto," Bill pointed out. "Perhaps you'll be officially appointed to that position. After this infernal war."

"Yes, perhaps that's it," Arthur said, his expression relieved. "Is that it, then? I'll be appointed? I really don't fancy the idea of Dumbledore leaving us."

Trelawney looked at Arthur. "You will become Minister of Magic. Soon. That is all I can say."

"As for me? And my son?" Bill asked dryly.

The seer again turned her penetrating gaze to the younger wizard. "You will serve your father faithfully. Then the Ministry. Until your death. Your son will survive to carry on the line."

Bill's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Well, that's all I can hope for. Pleasant, yet vague. Now, if we are quite finished...."

"Yes," Trelawney replied wearily. "The crystal grows dark again. I can discern no more."

"How much do we owe you?" Arthur said as he pulled out his money pouch from his robe pocket.

Trelawney gave him a tight-lipped smile and waved her hands. "No, you do not need to pay...."

"Nonsense!" Arthur said, and he drew out a handful of coins and placed them next to the crystal ball. "There, is this sufficient?"

"Thirty sickles," Trelawney said with a sigh as she mentally counted the coins before her. "A very appropriate sum."

"Well, we're settled then," Arthur said. "I always like to try to help someone who is just starting out. I wish you ladies luck ... Bill, could you give me a hand up? Thank you, lad."

Arthur rose to his feet with Bill's help, and with a cheery wave he left the room, with Bill following close behind.

Three pairs of eyes watched the door long after their departure.

"Madam Trelawney," said the light-haired witch. "There was more in the crystal ball, much more!"

"I could not tell them all," whispered Trelawney. "It is too horrible."

"So, will it happen then?" asked the dark-haired witch. "All of it? All that we saw?"

"It reads like the pages of a book," Trelawney intoned. "The script was written and the roles cast long before this day. All we can do is watch the tragedy unfold."

* * * * *

"I can hardly wait until we move into our new place," Molly Weasley said as she, Hermione and Ginny packed the numerous suitcases scattered on the bed and floor in Molly's room. "Even with a cleaning, this place gives me the willies."

"Yes, but it will be another month or two before the Weasley Estate is completely finished, right?" Ginny said as she folded a shirt and placed it into one of the cases. "Who will be staying here after we leave?"

"I think Snape said he will stay here," Molly said. "At least until things settle. Circumstances are still very dangerous for him. I think Remus Lupin said he'll stay as well."

"So, I heard that you and Mr. Weasley...." Hermione started to say.

"You can call him Arthur, and I'm Molly," Molly interrupted.

Hermione gave the older witch a shy smile. "I've heard the home you're building is quite large."

"It is somewhat extravagant," Molly said. "But Arthur is happy. He's like a child at Honeydukes whenever he's looking over the plans or talking to the architects."

"It's enormous," Ginny added with a laugh. "Ironic, since I'm on my own, as is Ron and Bill, and Percy of course. And since...." Ginny looked down. "And since Fred, George and Charlie are gone," she finished with a whisper.

Hermione looked down and wiped at her eyes, while Molly walked over to the windows to draw the blinds against the hot afternoon sun. The older witch ran a hand through her graying red hair and stood at the window for several minutes before turning and heading back to the bed to help pack.

But before she reached the bed, a soft tapping was heard at the window. Molly turned again to open the blinds.

"It's Hermes," Molly announced as she opened the window to let the owl in. Hermes flew into the room and landed softly on the bed, where he extended a leg to Ginny. The young witch removed the attached letter while Hermione Summoned a saucer of milk and an owl treat, which Hermes ate and lapped up with the air of a gentleman.

"Well, is it from Arthur?" Molly asked. "Is it about the trial?"

"Yes," Ginny said as she opened the note and read its contents out loud:

"My dear family,

"This letter bears news that is both joyous and bitter.

"First, the good news. I have been named Defense Strategist on the cabinet...."

Ginny looked up.

"Just like he said Trelawney had forseen," she whispered in awe.

Hermione snorted. "Lucky guess. Your father is the highest-ranking Ministry official on our side. He was the most obvious candidate for the post after Cawdor's arrest and execution."

"What's this about Trelawney?" Molly started to ask, but Ginny had already started reading the letter again:

"Harry Potter was chosen as Dumbledore's successor as head of the Order and the Ministry if something should befall him. His tone was so strange, never heard Dumbledore talk about having a successor."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, and she paused for several seconds before continuing.

"Speaking of Dumbledore," Ginny continued to read. "He cast the deciding votes on the sentences for several of the Death Eaters, including the Malfoy family. Lucius Malfoy is to serve two months in Azkaban, and is to pay 500,000 Galleons restitution...."

"WHAT???" Molly shrieked out. "After all that evil, self-serving foul creature has done, he only gets two months???" Hermione stared in shock.

Ginny continued reading the rest of the letter through clenched teeth. "After his sentence, Malfoy is to serve for five years helping rebuild the communities that were devastated by the War, and perform other charity work as the Ministry sees fit. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were sentenced to one year community service each."

"Dumbledore voted for such a sentence?" Hermione said slowly. "But why?"

"Dad says here I guess Dumbledore said something about wanting to 'prevent the next dark lord' or something," Ginny said as she looked up. Her features twisted into a grimace. "He thinks it would be more valuable to use service work as opposed to Azkaban."

"This ... this is an outrage," Molly whispered. "That man killed Charlie, and she killed ... she killed my babies! Fred and George, they are gone! And she will only get one year of this ... volunteer work nonsense?" She let out a shuddering sob, and Hermione ran over to console the older witch.

Ginny stood motionless, the letter clutched tightly in her right hand, her left hand clenching and unclenching.

* * * * *

"Father, we need to talk," Ginny said as she strode into the Muggle Relations office.

Arthur was seated at his desk, the stem of a tall fluted glass between his forefinger and thumb. The gillywater and rum he had been drinking was nearly gone.

"What about?" he whispered, and he rolled the stem of the cup between his fingers. "It's done. Malfoy has been sentenced. Dumbledore has announced his choice of successor, and no one would question Dumbledore's choice if something did happen to him. Never mind the fact that Harry is still a boy, and that I have given years ... years ... to the service of the Ministry!"

"Dumbledore is mad," Ginny pressed. "He seeks to mend what can't be fixed. A black heart cannot be turned by pounding nails and digging ditches! Surely others agree ... you said yourself the vote was divided...."

"But it's done!" Arthur snapped, and he hurled his glass against the opposite wall. The remaining liquid made a red stain on the white wall, and the glass splintered into hundreds of pieces. "The vote has been cast, it would take a two-thirds vote to recast, and that won't happen. The Wizengamot is too evenly divided."

"Now it is," Ginny pressed. "But if circumstances were to change...."

"Such as?" Arthur said, and he turned away. He ran both hands through his hair. "Justice is dead, Ginny. While your brothers and my sons are in the earth, Malfoy ... he will go on! He will be released in two months, and then he returns to his estate, a few galleons lighter and with some callouses on his hands, but his life will go on. How he must be laughing, the way he has cheated justice yet again! It makes me sick! Sick! How could Dumbledore betray us like this?" He put his head in his hands.

"But what if Dumbledore were to die?" Ginny said slowly, calculating.

Arthur snorted and sat up. "The man may be 160-some years old, but he's healthier and more robust than many wizards half his age."

"But Dumbledore is not immortal," Ginny said.

"Right," Arthur said sarcastically. "A most astute observation! We'll wait another 20, maybe only 30 years before Dumbledore goes beyond the veil and by that time, who knows? Maybe Dumbledore will be proven right, and Malfoy will have renounced his life .... sold his mansion to raise money for the poor and will have retired! To the quiet countryside to live out his life in anonymity! As a pig farmer ... somewhere in Devonshire!" He started laughing in uncontrollable, hysterical fits.

Ginny waited silently until Arthur stopped his insane laughter.

"Dear Merlin," Arthur whispered. Traces of the insane smile were still on his lips. "I feel as I will go mad."

"There are means of bringing about death earlier," Ginny said quietly.

The last traces of laughter disappeared from Arthur's face. "What do you mean?" he asked, his expression uneasy. "What ... what are you saying?"

The younger witch's smile became predatory. "A fall, an accident, drowning, poisoning ...." She let that last word hang in the air. "Life is so uncertain, isn't it?"

"No," Arthur whispered. "Ginny ... no! No, what you suggest, it's akin to treason!"

"He betrayed us," Ginny replied simply. "You said that yourself. He betrayed us, and the families who also have lost a loved one to the filth he all but set free."

"Dumbledore is a good man!" Arthur insisted. "He ... his last actions were ... were distasteful, but what you speak of is murder!"

"What I speak of is justice!" Ginny retorted heatedly. "Justice for our family! Justice for Charlie, Fred and George!"

Arthur stood and started pacing the room.

"This is madness, madness!" he said. "We would get caught, he is heavily guarded. Dumbledore is smart, he'll see through any plan!"

"He trusts you," Ginny said. "He has always trusted to the better nature of man. It is both his greatest strength and greatest weakness. You are meeting him tomorrow, correct? In 12 Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes," Arthur said faintly. "We'll be working on capturing the last of the Death Eaters. We found where they might be hiding...."

"Excellent," Ginny said. "Leave the details to me, for I have a plan. When you see him, to beguile the time, look like the time. Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it."

"What would you have me do?" Arthur said. He was shaking.

"There will be refreshment for you both, correct?" Ginny asked. Arthur nodded mutely. "It will be easy enough then, to slip a little extra into his drink. Blacklotus nacre ... yes, that will suit our purpose."

"But that's contraband! How do you hope to obtain...?" Arthur asked.

"There's nothing that can't be obtained with a few Galleons placed in the right palms," Ginny said. "Leave it to me, just be ready to act tomorrow."

Arthur stared in disbelief at his daughter. "I begin to wonder if Dumbledore and Bill were right," he said, his voice shaking. "That mirror, has it colored your heart as well? The Ginny I knew five years, three years, even one year ago...."

"How else could we possibly defeat him, father?" Ginny responded coolly. "I shudder to think if Dumbledore had discovered the mirror's uses instead of me. He would have destroyed it. For all his wisdom, he never understood that you have to fight fire with fire."

"As it was, he did want to shatter it," Arthur reflected. "Bill, Snape and I talked him out of it, but he was very reluctant to keep what has turned out to be ..." he looked away reluctantly. "An incredible stroke of luck for our side."

"But what of the price?" said a third voice. Arthur and Ginny both jumped and looked guiltily at the doorway, like two children who have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Bill Weasley stood there, hands crossed over his chest, and he stared at his father and sister with a look that reminded Arthur of Molly when she was upset.

"I can't believe what I am hearing from you two," Bill whispered angrily.

"Now Bill," Arthur said placatingly. "We were ... just blowing off some steam."

Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation. Bill noticed this, and his eyebrows shot straight up.

"Really?" he hissed. "You seemed awfully serious to me. Do you realize if anyone else had overheard your conversation, you would find yourselves in stocks and put on trial?"

"Since when was it a crime to speak one's mind?" Arthur retorted.

"Since never," Bill said. "But...."

"Don't you feel what Dumbledore has done is criminal in itself?" Ginny said, rounding on her brother. "Letting our brothers' murderers go free?"

This made Bill recoil. "I don't deny I'm as puzzled and angered as you. I detest the Malfoys with every fiber of my being. But Dumbledore wasn't the only one to vote for leniency."

"No," Arthur said bitterly. "But his speeches swayed an awful lot of votes to his way of thinking, and he did cast the tie-breaking vote with the Malfoys. I can't help but think that if he had not been at Council that day, it would have gone very differently, indeed, and the Malfoys would have been cast in Azkaban for life, like they deserved!" The older wizard clenched his fist and pounded it on his desk.

"I know father," Bill nearly shouted. "I know. It galls me too! But it is done. There is nothing we can do...." Ginny started to speak in protest, but Bill held up his hand to silence her. "The Malfoys are a terrible, corrupted family who have somehow managed to escape justice yet again, and it is sickening. But I would hate for us to descend to their level of treachery."

Silence met this speech. Bill looked from his father to his sister and back again.

"I will repeat nothing of what I have heard tonight," Bill said. "Let's go home and get some rest, it's been a trying day for all. By next morning, we will have new challenges to concentrate on, issues even bigger than the Malfoys. And we must not forget, it is stipulated that if Lucius Malfoy cross the law again, he will be in Azkaban permanently. He is on his last chance."

"Charlie never got his last chance!" Ginny hissed. "Neither did Fred and George! Or Fleur!" She hurled the last at her brother with especial malice.

"Yes, but sending the Malfoys to Azkaban for life, even if that would be satisfying personally, won't bring our brothers back," Bill said calmly. "Nor my wife."

Bill glared at both of them before he turned around and walked out of the office. Arthur and Ginny listened for his footfalls to fade into the distance.

"It was that kind of thinking that swayed so many votes," Ginny said, her tone dripping with venom.

"If we ... if we kill him, Dumbledore, I mean," Arthur said haltingly. "What next? What happens?"

"Father," Ginny said, a little exasperated. "Do I really have to tell you? You start using your position to try to get a retrial."

"But Harry Potter was placed in charge if...." Arthur began.

"Harry is only a year older than myself," Ginny interrupted. "And he looks up to you. He will come to you for advice. You may not become Minister as those soothsayers predicted, but you can be the shadow behind the Minister. That can be just as powerful a position, father. Also, you must not discount the possibility that you could be elected, despite Dumbledore's decree."

"Either way, I could undo this injustice," Arthur said, and his eyes glinted angrily. He looked his daughter in the eye and took both of her hands.

"All right," he said fiercely. "For justice!"

"For justice!" Ginny echoed.

* * * * *

The next night, Arthur Weasley found himself heading towards 12 Grimmauld Place.

Arthur found that he was visibly shaking despite the warm night air, and he wrapped his cloak tighter and pulled his hood over his face. He walked noiselessly, save for the soft, staccato tapping of his silver-headed cane.

Dare I do this? Arthur thought bleakly. Would it really be for the best? If it were to be done, then it would be well if it were done quickly.

"That but this blow be the be-all and end-all here," he whispered, not even realizing he was speaking out loud. "Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return to plague the inventor. This even-handed justice commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice to our own lips. Dumbledore trusts me, can I so easily betray that trust, even though he has wronged me? As his friend, I should against murderers shut the door, not bear the knife myself. Will eliminating him now thwart our efforts at defeating the Dark Lord? Will the cost be greater than the gain?"

"Psst!"

Arthur startled out of his musings and turned to see a slim, similarly cloaked figure beckoning to him several feet away. He thought first to simply ignore the figure and started to head away. But something made him stop, and he found himself reluctantly heading back.

"Father," the feminine voice called.

"Ginny," Arthur replied, and he licked his lips. "Ginny, I can't do this. I won't..."

"What do you mean you won't do this?" Ginny said, her tone low and dangerous.

"We will go no further in this business," Arthur continued more firmly. "Dumbledore, for his faults, is a peerless man. He has honored me of late, and I have bought golden opinions from all manner of people. Shall I cast that away now, just when the Weasley name is beginning to get some of the respect it so has deserved these long years coming?"

"Are you a man?" Ginny hissed.

Arthur's eyes flashed in anger. "How dare you accuse your own father...."

"Can you so easily cast out the memory of my brothers?" Ginny said between clenched teeth. "The deaths of our friends?"

"Ginny!"

"Have you forgotten what happened to me as a child?" she continued, her tone mocking. "Remember, it was Malfoy that slipped me that diary in the first place ... do you care nothing for my feelings?"

Arthur recoiled as if he had been slapped. "And ... if we should fail?"

"We fail!" Ginny shot back. "But screw your courage to the sticking-place and we will not fail."

Arthur sighed. "All ... all right then." He could feel his cheeks burning.

Ginny smiled in satisfaction. "I knew you would come to your senses. Here," and she handed him a small gold-colored goblet, plain save for an embossed seal on the bottom. "This looks like any of the goblets inside, and I know you are excellent at palming."

Arthur nodded. "And the poison?"

"I've already lined the cup with it," Ginny said. "All you need do is pour the beverage and hand it to him. The Blacklotus will take care of the rest."

Arthur peered at the bottom of the cup and looked at his daughter sharply.

"This has the crest of the Montague family," he said, his eyes searching Ginny's face. "How did you come by this?"

Ginny smiled nastily. "The Montague fortunes have not been so prosperous of late, and I chanced upon it in that pawn shop in Knockturn Alley."

"Knockturn Alley?" Arthur hissed. "What on earth were you doing...?"

"How do you think I got the ingredients for the poison?" Ginny replied as if she were repeating an elementary fact to a slow student. "The Apothecary doesn't even carry all of the ingredients for it. I confess the goblet was a stroke of luck."

"Montague could be accused," Arthur whispered as he turned the goblet around in his hands.

"Yes, and?" Ginny responded, and she folded her arms across her chest. "Don't tell me that makes you uneasy?"

"No," Arthur said with some force. "No. While Tobal Montague was never accused of murder, I know a lot of his gold went to ... to the Dark Lord. I will feel no guilt if he is sentenced in this."

"Then go," Ginny whispered urgently. "The hour grows late, and Dumbledore is already inside."

Arthur nodded silently and proceeded to the row of houses that lined Grimmauld Place. The pale full moon, its full radiance obscured by a brownish haze, cast strange shadows on the street. He stared at the space between 10 and 13 Grimmauld Place and concentrated. Soon, he saw the third structure appear, seeming to crowd itself between the two houses, and he headed for the door.

He did not bother turning on the gas for the chandeliers, which would have cast some faint light into the former Black estate. He walked by the rows of aged, grimy portraits in the hall, taking care not to bump into the umbrella stand.

Off to his right, he saw a fire crackling in the fireplace. Remus Lupin, in werewolf form, was napping on a battered couch of indistinguishable color in front of it. The werewolf took up the entire couch, and his paws dangled near the floor. Thin tendrils of smoke still drifted from an empty goblet resting on a small table near the couch. Remus yawned and looked up when he heard Arthur's approach.

"Hello, Lupin old boy," Arthur said as he approached the couch. "Is Snape around?"

Lupin wagged his tail in greeting and shook his shaggy head "no."

"Hmmm, out on business, again?" Arthur said, more to himself. "He should be careful, he was very nearly caught that last time." He peered at the werewolf reflectively. "I say, you're getting a little gray around the muzzle there, old boy."

Lupin yelped in protest, growled and buried his snout in one of the cushions. Arthur chuckled.

"Yes, well, I supposed I can't talk," he said. He turned to the mirror behind him, which was cracked and rippled with age. He stared at his distorted image and sighed. "These times have aged all of us. That I have lived to see such days...." Arthur sighed and turned back to the werewolf, who was still fixing him with a hurt, reproachful look.

Accusing, that look is accusing, accusing him ... did he somehow know...?

"Now don't look at me like that," Arthur suddenly shouted. "I have done nothing ... nothing..." he caught himself and lowered his voice. "Nothing but tell the truth." He gave a shaky laugh "We're both getting older, that's all there is to it. That's all."

Lupin raised his head and cocked it. He regarded the wizard through narrowed yellow eyes.

"Well, I best be off," Arthur said, and he gave himself a mental shake. "Dumbledore's upstairs, then? In his study?"

The werewolf regarded the wizard for a moment, then nodded and put his snout between his paws.

"All right, then, goodnight," Arthur said.

Lupin responded with a low, guttural "woof" and closed his eyes. His light snores followed Arthur up the stairs into Dumbledore's study.

Arthur found Dumbledore's study door opened, and the older wizard seated at his desk.

"Come in, come in," Dumbledore called out. He was contentedly munching on some finger sandwiches on a tarnished silver tray. "Help yourself. The cucumber and chives on rye is especially good."

"Thank you, professor," Arthur said as he entered the office and took a seat in one of the two chintz chairs in front of the desk. However, he did not touch the sandwiches.

Dumbledore's office at 12 Grimmauld Place was plain compared to his office at Hogwarts, but it had several of the older wizard's personal touches. A replica of the solar system, made up of brightly-colored glass balls, hovered high on the ceiling. Behind Dumbledore was a large grandfather clock with 24 hands of various colors, the pendulum making a steady, even ticking sound. Arthur had never been able to figure out what it kept track of, although he noted that all but two were lined straight up; one hand was three degrees from joining the others and the last was at the third quarter mark.

One wall had a bookshelf that was haphazardly crammed with books. The other wall had shelves filled with several curious oddities such as musical instruments, gadgets that moved back and forth along the shelves and what looked to be globs of an enchanted glass-like substance that changed their color and shape. In an alcove set back near the door was a small liquor cabinet with several bottles of various drinks and a set of gold-colored goblets.

"So," Arthur said conversationally. "Is McGonagall ready to take over the reins at Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Yes, she's ready. I can tell she's nervous about it, but after this year, I can no longer be there, the Ministry and here without something giving way. Especially with us so close to our goal." The former headmaster sighed. "Pity. Of all the things I have ever done, I loved teaching the best. I would have been perfectly content to stay there until the end of my days. Alas, it is not to be."

Dumbledore picked up another sandwich and munched reflectively. Arthur waited patiently, his hands clasped in his lap.

"I just received word from Severus, not a half hour ago," Dumbledore said after he finished his sandwich. "He's confirmed what we have suspected: the majority of Lord Voldemort's forces are regrouping just outside Little Hangleton."

"But where are they hiding?" Arthur asked, his brow furrowed. "The old Riddle mansion is gone...."

"Yes, and I am grateful every day for the Muggle housing inspectors who thought they had an abandoned building and ordered it knocked down and demolished," Dumbledore said with a quiet chuckle. "Tom was so busy watching for the obvious threat he completely ignored them until too late."

"Ah yes, Muggles," Arthur said with a laugh. "You have to love them!"

"But he's found some sort of new headquarters in the outskirts of the town," Dumbledore continued. "In an abandoned structure that used to be a bed and breakfast. Severus says he suspects there are underground tunnels there."

"Is ... he... there?" Arthur asked, and he leaned forward slightly.

"Sometimes," Dumbledore replied. "But not always. There lies the problem."

"Coordinating our attack while he is there," Arthur said. "Yes, but I don't think that is a difficulty. We have the mirror ...."

"I would rather look into other alternatives before resorting to that," Dumbledore interrupted. "Dark magic has a way of tainting the purpose, even when the cause is good. I worry about the long-term effects that mirror will have on Ginny. Surely, as her father, you must notice how she has changed the past few months?"

Arthur's eyes flashed in anger. "Of course I've noticed! Do you think me blind? But how else...?"

"Just because we can no longer send Severus undercover doesn't mean there aren't other ways of obtaining what we need." Dumbledore snapped his fingers, and three starlings apparated on the older wizard's desk, squawking and flapping their wings in agitation. "Starlings are greatly overlooked in our society. They are plain, noisy birds. But their intelligence is near equal to the owls', and their small size and drab appearance make them excellent candidates for lookouts." The older wizard snapped his fingers again. The three birds took to the air and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"We have to be on constant alert," Dumbledore continued. "The minute one of these three birds reappear here, we must be ready to move."

Arthur nodded. "We don't want them too thoroughly settled, for him to regain any of his former strength."

"Exactly," Dumbledore said. "I have already put the Order on alert. As many as we can spare will be here by tomorrow morning, where we will wait in shifts." He pulled out a handful of rolled-up foolscap and handed them to Arthur. "These are maps and notes Severus has compiled for us on the property. I need you to look these over and plot out a defensive strategy."

"Right," Arthur said. "I will start this evening. Is ... is there anything else?" The weight of the tainted cup inside his cloak pressed against his side, almost as a reminder.

Dumbledore stared at Arthur. The younger wizard managed to keep his face neutral, but inside he was wondering if the former headmaster knew what he was thinking, and panic flared up briefly in him like a flame at the end of a match.

"If fortune smiles on us," Dumbledore said softly. "This could be the final battle with Lord Voldemort. Just think, very soon, we can put these dark days behind us."

"Yes," Arthur said. "Soon, we could have all of the Dark Lord's agents...." Just so you can vote to let them go free again, he thought silently. A sudden surge of bile rose in his throat and at once his mind was made up. "I think this calls for a drink," Arthur announced. "May I?" He gestured towards the liquor cabinet.

"But of course," Dumbledore said mildly.

"You prefer brandy, straight up, correct?" Arthur asked as he rose from his chair, deposited the scrolls on a corner of Dumbledore's desk and walked over to the cabinet.

"That's right," Dumbledore said. "But only half a cup, the hour grows late."

That will be enough, Arthur thought maliciously as he stealthily removed the tainted gold cup and placed it on a small, tarnished silver tray. He poured about a half cup of brandy, then took another glass and poured himself a gillywater and rum. Arthur then walked back over to the desk, tray in hand, and set the tainted glass closest to Dumbledore.

"A toast then," Arthur said, and he picked up his glass and raised it. "A toast to the defeat of the Dark Lord and to a brighter future." He took a long drink from his glass.

But Dumbledore did not drink. Instead, he turned to Arthur, a sad look in his eyes. The glass was still in his hand, near his lap.

"You are angry with me," he said softly.

Arthur nearly dropped his own glass. Sweet Merlin, did he suspect?

"Professor?" Arthur asked politely, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I see it in your eyes," Dumbledore said as he looked at the glass in his hands. "Ever since the trials, I saw ... a darkness there. Anger. I know you must not have been pleased with the outcome of the trials, particularly with the Malfoys."

Arthur slammed his glass on the desk, the contents nearly sloshing out. He leapt from his chair and turned away from the headmaster.

"You pleaded for leniency," Arthur said in a low voice. He ran both hands through his hair. "For those monsters. You did a terrible thing yesterday, Dumbledore, and for the life of me, I can't understand why."

"I wanted to attempt to break the cycle," Dumbledore said. "Look at our history, Arthur. I've lived through about 160 years of it. We've had dark lords in the past stretching to even before the Founders. They have always been defeated and their allies tracked down or killed, or sentenced. But then, within 30 years or so, a new dark lord springs up. Almost always, it is either the son or daughter of one of the former dark lord's allies or even one of the allies. They are either eager to seek revenge or take over where their masters left off."

"Why do you think that making them lay brick or plant peonies will change their hearts?" Arthur said with a scowl. "If anything, it will show the Malfoys they are above the law."

"The Malfoys had to pay restitution."

"A sum they can easily afford."

"Time in Azkaban has never made a wizard any better! Indeed, they are usually more hardened...."

"But at least society is safe with them removed ...."

"But Azkaban's a temporary solution! It does not address the problem!"

"No! It doesn't!" Arthur roared and he rose to his feet, face flushed. "The real problem is that for too long, certain wizarding families, because of their fortunes, believed themselves to be above the law and were treated as if they were above it!!!"

"Yes! And these certain families have never known a hard day's work!" Dumbledore retorted from his seat. "If they see what they have destroyed and how hard it is to rebuild, if they have to see what others...."

"Bah!" Arthur said with a wild wave of his hands. "You are dreaming! There is no hope for the Malfoys, their hearts are too blackened and hardened by their misdeeds, their eyes too myopic to see anything beyond what they desire!"

"Arthur...."

"My sons were killed by them," Arthur said as he placed his hands on Dumbledore's desk and leaned forward. "My sons are dead! And my Bill's wife! Their 5-year-old son is motherless!"

"Charlie and Fleur were killed in battle," Dumbledore said softly. "And Fred and George ... they should never have gone to Malfoy Manor. Their deaths were tragic, but...."

"Are you saying that my boys deserved their fate?" Arthur snarled. His face was scarlet.

"I am saying," Dumbledore said sternly. "That Fred and George must have believed they were doing the right thing. But they had no business going to Malfoy Manor and attacking Narcissa Malfoy. She is not a known Death Eater and was a non-combatant."

"SHE WAS MARRIED TO A BLOODY DEATH EATER!" Arthur practically screamed. "AND TO THE WORST ONE OF THE BUNCH! HOW COULD SHE NOT HAVE...?"

"Narcissa Malfoy acted in self-defense!" Dumbledore said, his voice rising. "The Wizengamot was unanimous in that!"

Arthur let out a roar of rage and upset his goblet, which rolled under Dumbledore's desk. He snatched at his cane and started for the door.

"Arthur, wait!"

The younger wizard turned to Dumbledore, his eyes glittering in cold fury.

"Arthur, please listen to me," Dumbledore said gently. "Your service to the Order has been spotless, and I know you have always given me your trust. As hard as it is, I must ask you to trust me in this. I know there is a possibility that some granted a second chance won't take it, and go back to their old life in dealing with the dark arts. But if there's a chance that some might be saved, isn't it worth that risk? Wouldn't it be the more tragic if we threw the whole cart away because of a few bad apples?"

"The Malfoy family can't change," Arthur hissed. "The Dark Arts is too inbred in them. As your friend Alastor Moody once said, some spots don't come off."

"Set aside your personal, familial grudge of the Malfoy family," Dumbledore said, his temper beginning to rise. "I will point out that those Death Eaters who engaged in cold-blooded murder and torture were sentenced to life in Azkaban. No charges of murder were ever brought against Malfoy."

"Because he was slippery enough not to get caught!" Arthur shouted. "He's responsible for my Ginny being possessed ...."

"That was long ago, and we could never prove that in a court of law!"

"He was in You Know Who's Inner Circle! He paid large sums, blood money...."

"Yes, and for that he was sentenced...."

"You are mad!" Arthur again started for the door.

"You won't at least try to see things from my point of view?" Dumbledore said softly. Arthur stopped. "Are you not willing to trust me one last time?"

Arthur turned and looked the older wizard in the eye. "Not in this. I cannot. You ask the impossible." He turned away a third time.

"Wait, Arthur. You forgot something."

"What?" Arthur snapped, and he turned his head.

"Your toast," Dumbledore continued with a sad smile. "You know it is ill luck to leave a toast unfinished."

Arthur's blood suddenly ran cold as he saw Dumbledore raise his tainted glass.

"To the future," Dumbledore said, and he drained his goblet.

"The future," Arthur whispered hoarsely as he watched the older wizard put the cup on his desk. "I best be off. Oh...." He walked rapidly over to the desk and grabbed the roll of maps Dumbledore had given him earlier. "Good night, professor." He started for the door.

"Arthur?" Dumbledore's voice was soft, hoarse.

"Yes, professor?" Arthur stood in the doorway, but did not turn around.

"Do you realize what you have done?" Dumbledore's tone was not accusatory, only tired and filled with regret.

Arthur did not answer. He felt as if his legs would buckle, and he gripped the door frame for support.

"I suspected my remaining time was short," Dumbledore continued. His voice was almost a whisper. "This grandfather clock, you see, keeps excellent time." He moaned softly. "All but one ... all but one of the hands are aligned now. The last hand will be with the others in a matter of moments. I knew my life would end soon...."

Arthur bit back a sob of anguish....

"But I never ... I never believed ... believed it would end like this... not like this...."

The younger wizard started gasping. The clicking of the pendulum, which he barely noticed before, now filled his ears with a steady pounding that grew slower and slower and slower ... no! He started to leave again....

"Arthur?" Dumbledore's voice was very weak now.

Arthur stopped as if a barrier had been placed before him.

"I forgive you." The older wizard's last words was barely audible.

Arthur gave a strangled cry and nearly ran towards the back exit, the sound of the pendulum filling his head, getting slower and softer until it stopped and an oppressive silence took its place.

"What have I done?" he whispered once he was outside again. "Oh sweet Merlin, what have I done?"

"Father!" a hushed voice called out.

"Yes, Ginny," Arthur said, his voice shaking. "I'm here."

"What took so long?" the witch asked as she glided up to her father.

"We had to talk about the plans," Arthur said. "Then we got into an argument. Then we had a toast, but he didn't drink, not then...."

"Father!" Ginny said, exasperated. She looked around to make sure no one was watching. "Control yourself! So is it done? Is he...?"

"It's done," Arthur said, and his voice cracked. "Albus Dumbledore is no more. I, who extinguished his life heard his last words as the final minutes of his life's clock wound to it's end. Oh what have I done, what have I done!"

"Father, calm down!" Ginny said sharply. "You did the right thing."

"He knew I did it, he knew!" Arthur continued, as if not hearing. "He knew, but you know what his last words were to me? 'I forgive you.' He forgave me ... despite my betrayal. I betrayed him, I've killed him...."

"Father, lower your voice," Ginny said as she gripped her father's shoulder.

"I don't think I will ever sleep again without hearing his last words, over and over again in my mind," Arthur said, a half-crazed look on his face. "And that clock, that accursed clock, that pendulum droning on and on until all is still, and he is no more again. I will never be able to drive this night out of my memory, should I live to be 100!"

"Please, calm down," Ginny begged, and she once again looked over her shoulder. "You will awaken someone with your ranting!"

Arthur looked at his hands. "What hands are here? Ha! They pluck out mine eyes. Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red...."

WHACK!

Arthur looked up sharply and clutched at the left side of his face as Ginny gripped him savagely on the shoulders.

"Get. A hold. Of. Yourself!" she whispered fiercely. "What is done is done. We cannot undo this, and I wouldn't even if I were given a time-turner and the Ministry's blessing."

Arthur laughed bitterly. "If the Ministry knew about this...."

"The Ministry won't find out, unless we stay here all night waiting to be caught," Ginny said, then she started. "Hurry! I can see Snape off in the distance. It wouldn't do for him to see us here!"

"No, it wouldn't," Arthur said in a monotone. He allowed Ginny to steer him home.

"We'll go home, try to get some sleep," Ginny said. "When we come tomorrow, we must keep our wits about us and act like nothing is amiss until he is found. We must act normal."

"Act normal," Arthur muttered. "Nothing is normal anymore."

* * * * *

"Well, well, well," said Severus Snape with his patented sneer as Remus Lupin half-stumbled into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. "Look who has finally decided to grace us with his presence this morning! Rough night howling at the moon with the other feral creatures?"

"Severus," Remus said with a tight smile. "I am not in the mood right now for your dazzling displays of wit, so shut your bloody cakehole."

"Testy, testy," Snape tsked as the werewolf groped for a coffee mug.

"Now you just lay off, Snape," Molly Weasley scolded as she tended to a large pot over the fireplace which smelled like it had hot sausage gravy warming inside.

"'Sides, Remus isn't the last one here, we're still waiting on people" Tonks added. She was nibbling on a biscuit. "Wotcher, Remus, all right?"

"Been better," Remus said as he found the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "The textbooks on werewolves say that they become human again when the full moon sets and the sun rises. They are wrong. Werewolves also need strong coffee to become normal. Liberal doses of it." He took a sip from his cup and collapsed into a moth-eaten blue velveteen chair. "And I think this is going to be a three-cup morning." Remus drained the rest of his mug and looked around, his bleary eyes scanning the room. "So who are we still missing?"

"Kingsley said he'll be running late due to Ministry business," said McGonagall, who looked up from a pile of scrolls stacked on the dining room table. "Same with Diggory. Arthur and Ginny Weasley haven't arrived yet, but should be here any time now. Potter and Ron Weasley were here, but we sent them out to gets some eggs and flour, and to pick up the latest copy of the 'Daily Prophet'" McGonagall's brow furrowed. "Dumbledore isn't down here yet, either, and that concerns me."

"Hi, we're back," Ron called out as he and Harry came into the kitchen. They were each carrying a bulging sack full of groceries, and a copy of the newspaper peeked out from the edge of Harry's bag.

"I should have known better," said Molly Weasley as she looked disapprovingly at the two bags. "I send you two out for a couple of items and you buy half the store!" She took Harry's bag and pawed through it. "Let's hope you didn't buy all cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs again!"

"No, mum," Ron said, exasperated. "And we only bought two of each last time!"

"All right, professor?" Harry called out to Remus. The werewolf made a noncommittal grunt in reply as he got up and poured himself a second cup of coffee. Harry smiled sympathetically.

"Are Dad and Ginny here yet?" Ron asked as he looked around. "And where's Professor Dumbledore? I hope something serious hasn't come up!"

"Poor man's been looking positively knackered lately and probably just overslept," said Emmeline Vance. One of her elegant, slim hands daintily held a tea cup. "Heaven knows he's been doing the work of 10 lately! Let him sleep a while."

"Yes, he had visitors all day and all night yesterday on Order business," Remus confirmed as he stifled a yawn.

"Including that horrible Montague," McGonagall snorted. "The nerve of that man!"

"Pity the Wizengamot never could pin anything on him," said Elphias Doge. He waved his biscuit in the air for emphasis. "Slippery git."

"Not for a want of trying," muttered Amelia Bones as she poured herself a cup of tea. "Trust me."

"Morning," Ginny called from the hallway. She and Arthur came into the room with armfuls of scrolls. Ginny looked cheerful, but Arthur looked tired, haggard.

"Arthur," Remus said, his eyebrows raised. "You look worse than I do and that is quite an accomplishment."

Arthur gave Remus a forced smile. "I was up most of the night going over these maps. Severus, the information you compiled is quite thorough, I thank you."

Severus inclined his head at the complement, but one black eyebrow was arched in concern at Arthur's peaky complexion.

"Dumbledore's not down yet," said McGonagall, and she rose to her feet. "I'm really getting concerned."

"He's not, is he?" Arthur said in a tired monotone. "My, that's ... not like him." Ginny cast her father a sideways glance.

"Do you want me to knock on his study door?" Tonks asked.

McGonagall nodded. "Yes, could you please? Tell him we are waiting and breakfast will be ready soon."

"If you can get up there without tripping and falling over," Severus said nastily.

Tonks gave Severus a raspberry and dashed up the stairs before he could think to retaliate. She only tripped once near the top and recovered her balance quickly.

"So, why was Montague over here yesterday, anyway?" Doge wheezed between bites of his second biscuit.

Arthur and Ginny exchanged surprised looks.

Did you know this? Arthur mouthed. Ginny shook her head. They looked away from each other quickly, but each was thinking the same thing: this was, indeed, a lucky stroke of fortune for them.

"Seems as if Montague, to get into the good graces of Dumbledore and the Ministry, tried to sell Albus a plan he had concocted," McGonagall said angrily. "Montague said he would be willing to donate a sizable part of the family fortune to hire some help for us in our last efforts to defeat You Know Who."

"Hire?" asked Vance. "You mean, as in mercenaries?"

"Exactly," McGonagall said.

"Who was Montague thinking of hiring for us?" Ginny asked.

"More like what," Bones said in her booming voice. "Hags, mostly. River trolls, goblins, even some vampires. Montague promised 5,000 strong and said he would pay 20,000 galleons for them."

"I don't think I like the thought of fighting side by side with any of that lot," said Ron with a shudder.

"And knowing Montague," Severus said with a scowl, "He would have stuck us with the bill and disappeared when the mercenaries came to collect. That man's sense of honor goes about as deep as the breadth of a sheet of parchment."

"Well, as you can imagine," McGonagall continued. "Dumbledore turned him down flat. Oh, Montague was pretty hot under the collar, I assure you, but as Dumbledore said, if you are only fighting for money, you are fighting for nothing."

"Speaking of Dumbledore," Remus piped up. "I would have thought Tonks would be back here by now with word from him."

Severus sighed from his spot near the dining room entrance. "She probably got lost on the way up. I'll go, since...."

The potions master was cut off mid-sentence by an earth-shattering scream that filled the entire house.

"That's Tonks!" Remus cried, and he rose from his seat.

Severus froze for a second, then bolted up the stairs in a blur of sable capes. Everyone else soon followed suit, led by McGonagall. Ron and Harry reached the top of the staircase when Severus emerged from Dumbledore's study. He gripped Tonks, who was sobbing hysterically, by the shoulders.

"Severus?" McGonagall called fearfully. "Tonks? What is it? Where ... where is the headmaster?"

Tonks continued to weep, and Severus himself seemed stricken by some terrible shock. He looked up at McGonagall, his face white and an unspeakable horror reflected in his eyes....

* * * * *

Harry stood on one of the balconies on the third floor of the Ministry of Magic looking at the sun, which had just come up over the horizon. A single tear slid down his cheek as he remembered the ceremony conducted just 15 minutes ago....

Dumbledore's body had been enclosed in a shimmering, clear capsule...

Kingsley presided over the service. "He was the best of us. The powers that be granted that he walk this earth for 162 years among us...."

A chant sounded from an unknown part of the room. "Pie, pie espiritu. Dona eis requium. Sanctus spiritus. Miserere mei. Pie ... pie...."

Harry ran a hand through his shaggy black hair and took off his glasses. He placed a hand over his eyes....

Kingsley ... "Now he shall return to his forefathers beyond the veil, where he will at last be with those who have gone before...."

The capsule around Dumbledore began to glow and seemed to melt....

"Dona eis requiem ... Miserere. Pie, pie espiritu...."

The capsule started to blaze with an intense, white flame....

Harry leaned on the balcony and put his head in his hands....

"...And where he and our forefathers will one day meet each of us, and we will no longer be parted...." Tears streaked down Kingsley's face....

It was nearly impossible to look at the capsule now. Dumbledore could no longer be seen....

"Sanctus spiritus...."

The white fire grew brighter and brighter, like a dazzling star....

"Miserere mei ... Pie, pie...."

"We part now, with the knowledge..." Kinglsey gave a shuddering sigh. "...With the knowledge that one day, we will meet again in the place with no shadow, in the place with no fear...."

The brilliant light suddenly went out, and Dumbledore was gone....

"And a place with no darkness...."

Dumbledore was gone....

He's gone, Harry thought, emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Dumbledore is gone.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to see Arthur Weasley looking at him sympathetically. The older wizard had been crying as well, from his red eyes.

"Hi, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's Arthur, son," Arthur reprimanded gently as he walked over to the younger wizard. "All right?"

"I..." Harry started to say "yes," but then stopped. It would have been a lie. He ran a hand through his hair again. "I can't believe he's gone. I just can't believe...."

The two wizards stood silently, side by side, for several moments.

"Have ... have they made the arrest yet?" Harry asked quietly. His green eyes glittered angrily.

"Not yet, Harry, not yet," Arthur said, and he grasped Harry firmly by the shoulder. "But it's expected soon, perhaps even today. We have our best people looking for Montague."

"It is a good thing I am not among them," Harry said in a low voice. "I would kill Montague on sight!" He balled his hands into fists.

"You, me and many others," Arthur observed with a humorless smile. "But you ...you do have to power to make sure justice is done to him, Harry." His eyes became distant, cool, and his voice hollow. "Dumbledore did say that if something should happen, you would take over."

Harry stepped away and flung his hands up in despair.

"What?" Arthur asked, somewhat taken aback. "Harry? What is it?"

"Mr. Wea... Arthur," Harry corrected himself when Arthur started arching his eyebrow and giving the younger wizard one of his paternally exasperated smiles. "Arthur, I know nothing ... nothing about the Ministry or how it works! I don't know procedure or protocol, I've never even been in the Wizengamot chamber, save for that one time...."

"Yes, I remember that," Arthur said. "That Dementor situation when you were a teen. Yes."

"I don't know half the people," Harry continued.

"Harry, I can help you," Arthur said. "I've worked in the Ministry for a number of years, and I would be happy to assist you, help you get the lay of the land, so to speak."

Harry regarded Arthur thoughtfully.

"Dumbledore once told me, about a month ago, that a smart man will always keep smarter men near him as counselors," Harry said in sad reflection. "He said the wise man will do what they say, and the truly wise will know their limits and step aside if someone with superior knowledge should ever come."

Arthur turned away. "Dumbledore was a very wise man. We ... we will never see the likes of him...." He broke off and let out a shuddering sigh. "I will not pretend to be a wise man, Harry. More often than not, I'm a very foolish one. But I do know the Ministry and its people, and I will be happy to help you...."

"No, Arthur," Harry said. "I don't want you to help me lead the Ministry. I want you to lead the Ministry."

Arthur looked at Harry, stunned. "What? You want me...?"

"You've worked at the Ministry for more than 30 years," Harry continued. "You are one of the highest-ranking member alive. It would be foolish for me to try to lead an institution I know so little about. I want you to lead the Ministry because you are the best man for the job. I will then lead The Order. Dumbledore had given me pretty free reign over the last couple of assignments...."

"And they went quite well," Arthur said. "You are a good leader."

"With The Order," Harry amended. "I know how that works, what it takes." Harry gave a wry smile. "Despite what certain wizards might say, I do know one end of a wand from another, and I feel that, with Dumbledore's help, the others have come to trust me."

"You mustn't mind Severus," Arthur said. "I think he respects you far more than he would let on."

Harry snorted. "We have come to a truce at least, at any rate. I don't kill him, he doesn't kill me, and we don't turn each other in to the other side. That's some progress, I suppose."

Arthur chuckled, then looked at Harry, his eyes haunted.

"It's a sad reflection of the times," Arthur reflected, "when a young man not even in his 30s knows more about war-time operations than the peace-time government."

Harry shrugged. "That's the way it is. Younger than I have fought, and wizards not even in their majority have died in these times, died fighting this miserable war. Dumbledore was the greatest of us, and yet, in some ways, he's another name in that already long list of casualties brought about by Lord Voldemort's deceit and treachery. I think that is the most tragic thing of all."

Harry lowered his head into his hand. Arthur wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, and soon the two wizards hugged, comforting each other in their sorrow.

In the distance, Ginny Weasley watched and smiled in triumph.

End of Act I

ACT II

Severus Snape sat in one the chintz chairs in front of Dumbledore's old desk, deep in thought. He rolled his black wand between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. His chin rested on the back of his other hand, which was balled into a loose fist.

"Severus?" a soft voice called.

Severus made no response, didn't even look up as Remus Lupin entered Dumbledore's office.

Many of Dumbledore's personal belongings were now in cardboard boxes stacked on the floor. The replica of the solar system and other moving gadgets were still now, packed away between layers of cotton and paper to be stored in an attic somewhere, where they would probably be forgotten.

"Severus, I was wondering where you were," Remus continued as he looked around the office. "I'm nearly packed myself, and ...." He broke off as he gently stroked the door frame. "It's hard to believe ... it's been three weeks since Dumbledore's passing, and yet sometimes I still expect him to walk into a room. Especially when I come in here, I can still feel his presence sometimes, although it's starting to fade...."

"Could you stop prattling and let someone with a brain think?" Severus said nastily.

Remus' eyebrows shot up, but he decided to ignore the insult. "What ... what were you thinking so hard about?"

Severus finally looked up and stared at Remus.

"Am I the only one who thinks that the arrest of Tobal Montague was too ... convenient?" the potions master asked.

"What do you mean?" Remus asked, his brow furrowing. "Montague's cup was found here, at the scene of the crime. He had visited Dumbledore earlier and had been turned out without being able to strike the deal he wanted. Montague had the motive and the means...."

"I have known Tobal Montague for years," Severus said. "He is a disgusting, foul creature, but murder is not in his blood. He is too great a coward."

"Severus, any one of us is capable of murder under the right circumstances."

"It's too easy," Severus insisted. "Why would have he only brought one cup? A paranoid wizard such as Moody may bring their own flasks or drinking glasses, but for their own use."

"So Montague could taint the cup beforehand. Come on, Severus, that is elementary."

"But why wouldn't he have taken the cup with him later? Why leave it behind?"

"Perhaps he was in a hurry to get out. Maybe he never had the chance to retrieve his cup."

Severus shook his head. "It doesn't add up," he said testily. "I examined Montague's cup. Bones asked for my opinion as to the poison...."

"So do you know what poison was used?" Remus asked, surprised.

"No," Severus said. "The poison was gone. All that was left in the cup was a little brandy and traces of water."

"Water? But Dumbledore never used ice...."

"I know, but there are about a dozen potions which, once their effect has passed, turn into water. Three of them are poisons, which makes them very useful to an assassin trying to cover his tracks. One of those, Nexcrucia, can safely be eliminated because the ingredients are nearly impossible to obtain. It is improbable that even someone with Montague's wealth and prestige in darker circles could have obtained basilisk venom, acromantula blood and part of the essence of a lethifold in a short period of time. Besides, the poison is not a subtle one, the screams from its victim could have been heard...." Severus broke off quickly and looked away, his face becoming pale.

Remus narrowed his eyes but decided he really did not want to know how the potions master knew the effects of this potion so well. So he opted to wait quietly as Severus collected himself again.

"So that ... that leaves us with two poisons," Severus said, his voice still shaky. "One possibility is Creeping Shadow, a very slow-acting poison. If Montague was the culprit, he could have spiked ... he could have used that, and no one would be the wiser, for it takes anywhere from 12 to 18 hours to work. However, Dumbledore was a smart man, and would certainly have known the signs of poisoning, and could have administered an antidote."

"He was busy and tired," Remus said sadly. "Perhaps he didn't notice the symptoms, or thought it was overwork, until...."

Severus nodded. "That is a possibility, and I have considered that. Frankly, it's the only poison Montague could have used, unless he returned later that evening." He gave the werewolf a long, searching stare.

Remus shook his head. "Dumbledore had several visitors, including Montague. I know some thought Dumbledore insane for bringing Montague here, to The Order headquarters. But I think he wanted to give Montague a chance." Remus snorted. "Besides, The Order rarely meets here anymore anyway. But no, I did not see Montague again, and he wouldn't have known about the back entrance. Have ... have you brought your suspicions to the Ministry?"

Severus shook his head. "No. As far as I'm concerned, everyone is a suspect, save you and me. I was out on business nearly the entire day, and have witnesses to verify that...."

"Severus, I would never have suspected you...."

"Then you are too trusting. But be as that may, I was out, and you were incapacitated much of the day. Besides, you're skills with a cauldron are laughable. You couldn't even brew Creeping Shadow or Blacklotus Nacre to save your werewolf hide."

"Blacklotus Nacre? What is that?"

Severus snorted. "You're knowledge of poisons is rather lacking as well. Blacklotus Nacre is the easiest of the three to make, and the third poison that leaves only water traces when the effect has expired."

Remus shrugged. "So perhaps Montague used that."

Severus shook his head impatiently. "No, that is impossible, you dunderhead! Once a wizard ingests Blacklotus Nacre, death is almost immediate! Yet Dumbledore, by your own recollection, had visitors after Montague left."

"Do you have any suspicions...?"

"No. But ... what do you remember about that night? Who was the last person you saw?"

"Well," Remus thought, searching his memory. "I know McGonagall came in with you as I was transforming. After I went on the couch...."

"Which reminds me, you really should get a blanket or sheet before using the couch, because you shed and then your hair gets all over my cloak...."

"I do not shed!"

Severus waved his hand impatiently. "You do shed, you miserable fleabag! Now get on with it! Who else came that night?"

"Well, after you and McGonagall left, Kingsley came in for a while, he left around 9 or so. Then it was pretty quiet until Arthur Weasley came in around 10. I didn't see him leave," Remus looked apologetic. "But last I looked at the clock it was about 10:15, and then I next woke up when the moon was starting to set and I was transforming again. Someone could have come in while I was sleeping."

"You aren't much help, Lupin."

"I'm sorry."

Severus sprang up from the chair and started pacing. "There must be something we are missing, something...." He walked around Dumbledore's desk and flopped down in frustration on the former Hogwarts headmaster's old chair. "But I just can't put my finger on ....yagh!"

The chair suddenly bucked, sending its occupant sprawling onto the floor in a tangle of black robes and limbs.

"Severus?" Remus called out, his tone concerned. But he couldn't help smiling, and he tried to keep from laughing at the potions master's predicament. "Severus, are you all right?" There was no response, and Remus, now genuinely worried, started heading towards the desk. "Severus?"

"I'm quite all right," came the surprisingly calm response. "In fact, I am extremely well."

Remus' eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped at the unexpectedly even tone.

Severus emerged from behind the desk, a gleam of triumph in his eyes.

"I think," the potions master said. "I have found what might be the missing link."

Severus held up his hand, which clutched a plain, gold goblet.

* * * * *

"Arthur, do you have any idea what you are asking? What you are doing?"

Amelia Bones stared at the wizard in front of her desk, her mouth a thin line.

"Yes, I know, Amelia," Arthur replied. "But I think there is a legitimate cause to retry these cases!"

Amelia sighed. "I can tell you now, you will not get anywhere unless you pare down this list. Even then, the odds are against you. Never before has a case been successfully retried like this, not once a sentence has been passed down. Not for a harsher punishment. Besides, it won't be as popular as you might think...."

"No one liked to see these creatures get off so lightly," Arthur said, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Perhaps not," Amelia said. "But it may be seen as a sign of disrespect to Dumbledore."

"Not taking action could be construed as showing disrespect to the victims of this filth," Arthur retorted.

"All right," Amelia said with another sigh. "I will bring this before the Wizengamot, on the condition that you pare down this list. Twenty-five is far too many cases for the court to reconsider. Select the half dozen or so worst offenders and bring the list back to me."

Arthur smiled, and there was a gleam of triumph in his eyes. This was actually more than he had expected, at least for now. "That is agreeable, Amelia," he said as he took the list back. "I will pare the list down here, right now." He withdrew a ball-point pen from his robe pocket.

Amelia's eyebrows shot up at the sight of the Muggle writing device, and the corners of her mouth twitched. Arthur noticed her reaction.

"These are very handy," Arthur said. "You can carry them around with you in a pocket and not worry about bending or breaking it, and you don't have to worry about an inkwell."

"Right," Amelia said, and she couldn't help chuckling. "I'm sure these Muggle pens have their uses, but I will stick to my quill and ink. There's no skill or style with those thin, plastic and metal gadgets."

Arthur shrugged good-naturedly as he made additional checkmarks before handing the list back to Amelia. Amelia looked at the list, then back at Arthur, shocked.

"There ... there are only three names checked off," she said slowly.

"Those were the worst," Arthur said, his eyes glittering strangely.

"Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy and Draco Malfoy," Amelia muttered as she looked at the list. She looked at the wizard again. "Arthur, if you want any chance of this succeeding, take Narcissa and Draco off the list, and check off five more names."

"And why is that?" Arthur said in a tone that made Amelia uneasy.

"If you send this, people will think this was a personal vendetta," Amelia explained hastily. "The blood feud between the Weasleys and Malfoys is near legendary. The Wizengamot will not consider this if it thinks there is personal motivation behind it."

Arthur swore and sprang from his seat, his hands clenching and unclenching. Amelia looked at him uneasily.

"Arthur...?" Amelia said softly.

Arthur sighed and turned back to the witch. His face was still flushed, but he gave her a small smile.

"I ... I suppose you are right," Arthur said. "Very well, give me the list, and I will withdraw the woman and boy, and add five more names." He took the list back and studied it carefully....

"Minister?" a third voice called from Amelia's doorway. Arthur did not respond. "Minister?"

"Arthur," Amelia prodded with a half grin. "Someone's addressing you ... minister."

"Oh? Are they?" Arthur said as he looked up from the list. He laughed. "Well, I guess if someone calls for the Minister that would be me, now. Don't know how long it will take for me to get used...." He turned to the doorway and stared. Percy Weasley stood there, uncertainly.

"Yes?" Arthur asked, his manner suddenly frosty.

"Father... I mean, Minister, I...." Percy gulped and looked down from Arthur's cold gaze. "Gin... Miss Weasley sent me to look for you. The suspect is in the interrogation room, and everyone is waiting for you."

"What is this?" Amelia asked, suspicion dripping from every word. "I'm not aware of any questionings today! These things are usually handled by officials with the Wizengamot!"

Arthur shrugged. "Dumbledore handled and oversaw several interrogations," he pointed out.

"Always with a member of the court present, Arthur! Why were we not notified?"

The wizard looked at her coolly. "Very well. If you don't trust me, you are free to send a member. You can even come down yourself."

Amelia looked down. "I ... very well, although this is most unusual. I do not have time to come down myself, and I don't believe I could get a member of the Wizengamot on such short notice, if you are ready to proceed," she looked up sternly. "But in the future, I would like to be kept appraised of such things, since questioning suspects and witnesses is in my jurisdiction. As you should very well know."

"I apologize," Arthur said smoothly, and he handed Amelia the list. "I didn't mean to tread on toes, I was just trying to be efficient. Good day, then, other duties call."

He rose from his seat and left, with Percy following behind. It was several moments before either one spoke.

"Father," Percy said. "I ... I didn't know that Madam Bones wasn't made aware of these proceedings. It is rather unusual not to let the head of the Wizen...."

"Foolish boy!" Arthur snapped. "You imbecile ... she wasn't meant to know!"

Percy's eyes widened. "But father ... minister ... why...? I mean, doesn't ... doesn't it ...?" The younger wizard fell silent, not knowing what else to say.

"Listen," Arthur said in a hushed voice. "I would appreciate more discretion on your part next time. Amelia Bones is a good woman and a capable head of the Wizengamot. But I don't think she would approve these necessary measures today. We need information, and the ordinary channels are just too inefficient."

Percy nodded reluctantly. "I ... I guess I understand." Another pause. "Father, haven't you been able to forgive me for... the past?"

"I can not so easily forgive being called a fool and a disgrace to my face. I am not that altruistic."

"I have apologized more times than I can count," Percy said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "What do you want me to do? Grovel at your feet? I would, if it meant that you would once again look favorably on me!"

"Would you grovel because I am your father, or because I am now minister?" Arthur retorted. He stopped and faced his son. "I let you back into the family for the sake of your mother and your siblings, Ginny especially. You should be grateful to get off so lightly, after what you did."

"I may be back in the family," Percy said softly. "But I'm not back in your heart. What would you have me do to win your respect again?"

Arthur regarded Percy with a cool, detached gaze. "Serve me. Serve me without fail, without question and without hesitation. Show me your loyalty, and then perhaps I can once again look truly on you as my son, as I once did." He turned and continued down the hall without waiting for Percy's response. Percy followed close behind.

"So who all is assembled?" Arthur asked after a few moments of silence.

"Severus Snape, of course," Percy said. "Remus Lupin, Bill, and Ginny. Oh, and the Dementors."

"One or two?"

"Two, just as you had requested."

"Excellent," Arthur said with a cold smile. "Then we are ready." He opened up a door leading to a small room, where the others were already assembled. "Let us begin."

* * * * *

Ron Weasley shuddered as he and his brother Bill passed uncomfortably close to a cluster of hags going the opposite direction on the narrow, cobblestone thoroughfare through Knockturn Alley.

"To think that when I was younger, I would have done about anything to be able to walk down here," Ron muttered. His full-length black cloak lightly brushed the gray cobblestone. He pulled his hood further down over his face in a nervous gesture. "Tell me why we are in this dump again?"

"We are on our way to Borgin and Burkes," Bill said smoothly. He was wearing a similar black cloak and hood. "Now, don't look around and don't stare. Burkes should be in, and he sent communication to Snape that he had some information for us."

"Right," Ron said nervously as they passed a river troll and two goblins. "So, how did the questioning go yesterday?"

Bill's usually mild expression darkened like an approaching thunderhead. "I really don't want to talk about that. I would rather forget...."

Ron's eyes widened. "Oh? Couldn't get anything from the blighter?"

"Oh, we got plenty of information," Bill said coldly. "It was the manner in how that information was obtained. I never dreamed father could be capable of such cruelty." His voice trailed off.

"But it was just a Death Eater, right?" Ron said. "A scumbag! Why are you so upset?"

"You didn't witness the questioning," Bill said sharply. "And you didn't see the Dementors fighting over him afterwards...."

"You mean to tell me that he got the Kiss?"

"Precisely."

Ron shuddered. "Who was he, anyway?"

"A kid," Bill whispered. "About a year younger than you, Ron. Ginny's age. Enough about this. I don't want to discuss what happened, especially out in the open air where anyone can overhear."

They walked in silence until they reached a large storefront, with a black sign on the doorway. "Borgin and Burkes" was emblazoned on the sign in gold script.

"So this is it," Ron said, and he placed his hand on the rusty doorknob. Bill put out a hand to stop his younger brother.

"Wait," the older wizard ordered. "Just in case...." He withdrew his wand from the depths of his cloak and aimed it at the keyhole. Bill muttered something Ron couldn't hear, and a small stream of yellow smoke entered through the keyhole. The two Weasleys waited in tense silence for a few seconds, then a stream of answering white smoke emerged from the same place.

Bill nodded in satisfaction. "Burkes is in and he's alone." The older wizard placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it. Soon they were inside.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered as he looked at the array of shrunken heads, skulls and other dark items. Numerous gems and stones glinted and glittered coldly in the smoky light of the dark room. A shrunken, skeletal hand holding a half-melted candle could be seen on one of the counters, resting on a faded purple pillow.

They walked over to the main counter, where a tall man with dark-tinted eyeglasses and sallow skin waited. The wizard wore long green and black robes, and his face and short, greasy hair were partially covered by a black hood. His long, bony fingers were interlaced together.

"Good afternoon, Merrs. Weasley," Burkes said. His voice was low and hoarse.

"Mr. Burkes," Bill replied quietly. "I hope all is well?"

"As well as can be expected," Burkes said. "As I put in my communication, I had some information that might prove to be valuable."

"You wrote as much," Bill said. "So what is it?"

Ron began wandering up and down the aisles, looking at the various oddities and powders stacked on the shelves and cabinets as Burkes was talking.

"There were two wizards here yesterday," Burkes said. "They had obviously enchanted themselves to disguise their true appearance." He tapped his glasses and nodded. "I did not recognize the man, but the woman was almost certainly Bellatrix Lestrange. They purchased some very telling items...."

A gold-colored dining set caught Ron's eye. A large teapot sculpted to look like a dragon's head, with the spout as its tongue, rested in the middle of a tray. Two crystal decanters, each acid etched with a monogrammed "M" flanked either side. Four teacups, with decorative metalwork around the rim and the handle, sat on identical plates. Four spoons, with the head and body of a dragon at the handle, lay near each plate. There also were matching goblets and a matching sugar bowl and spoon. A crystal bowl with a monogrammed "M", to hold lemons, was placed near the sugar bowl. Ron picked up one of the goblets and studied it and the crystal decanters.

"Montague," Ron called out as his brother and the store clerk were talking. He turned to them. "I recognize the seal. Say, isn't his trial in two days?"

"Three days," Bill responded. "It was delayed a day."

"I imagine this is here to help pay for the trial," Ron remarked as he put the goblet back.

"Actually," Burkes said. "That has been here for more than a month. Montague isn't as wealthy anymore as he would like people to believe, and hasn't been for some time. He's had his share of misfortune long before the murder. Can't say I feel sorry for him."

"Say," Ron called out as he counted the goblets. "There's a goblet missing from this set! There should be four, I only see three. Did he lose one, then?"

"No," Burkes said. "Actually, a young lady came in here about two weeks ago I guess, and took a fancy to the set. She said she only wanted the one piece, though, couldn't talk her into buying it all. Pity, she seemed quite taken with it."

Bill, meanwhile, walked over to Ron and looked at the set through narrowed eyes.

"Mr. Burkes," Bill said. "Do you remember who bought the cup?"

Burges thought a moment, stroking his bare chin.

"She was young," he said. "Couldn't see her face all that clearly, but I do remember that she had red hair, similar to yours in fact. She bought a few other items, too. Potions supplies."

"What kind of potions supplies?" Bill asked through gritted teeth. The color had drained from his face.

Burkes shrugged. "I don't recall, but that is something I couldn't disclose anyway. Other than the ... but never mind, a shopkeeper could lose customers if he doesn't keep a discreet tongue in his head."

"Bill, what is it?" Ron asked, amazed at his older brother's horrified look.

"Burkes," Bill said. "This is important! A man's life may...."

Suddenly, an owl swooped into the store and landed near the dining set, a scrap of white paper in its beak. Bill took the paper and unfolded it. His eyes widened as he saw what was on the paper: the image of a starling, flapping its wings.

Bill looked at Ron. "It's the signal!"

"Let's go!" Ron said.

"This way," Burkes said. "There's a back room you can Disapparate in. The rest of the store is enchanted to protect from theft and you'll attract too much attention on the street."

* * * * *

The Daily Prophet

August 3, 2003

THE DARK LORD IS DEFEATED!

Harry Potter confronts, kills You Know Who. All of the Dark Lord's followers now believed captured or slain.

By Rita Skeeter

Reporter

A sudden, desperate attack by You Know Who at the Ministry of Magic in the early hours this morning was swiftly repelled by the ready forces of the Order, led by hero Harry Potter, who, along with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom, confronted the Dark Lord and killed him. The others in the Ministry successfully battled the remaining Death Eaters and the scores of Lethifolds it had brought with them.

"We received a tip that [the Dark Lord] would bring Lethifolds to this battle," said Potter. "We also received information that the next attack would most likely be on the Ministry. We were prepared for it. I'm just glad it's over."

Arthur Weasley, Minister of Magic, echoed Potter's words and praised the Order.

"We did what we had to do, and we did it well," the minister said. "We can all breathe a sigh of relief and celebrate a new day, with this darkness behind us...."

* * * * *

"Look at that sunset, boy," Arthur Weasley said, a goblet of gin and tonic in his hand. He turned to Percy. "I've never seen another like it. It's symbolic, I suppose. It goes down on these dark days, and when it comes up tomorrow, a new era begins."

"Yes, father," Percy said. "It is lovely here."

They were both standing at a window on the fourth floor of the ministry building, looking out as the sun set, brilliant and red, below the line of London's buildings. The two Weasleys were taking a quick break from the flurry of activity inside, where other wizards were cleaning up the fallen rubble and beams from the battle, and preparing for the formal victory celebration and commemoration in two nights.

"I ... I thank you for making me your deputy Minister," Percy said haltingly, and he stole a quick glance at his father. "I appreciate your vote of confidence in me."

"Make no mistake, Percy," Arthur said coolly as he still gazed out of the window. "You would have never been appointed that position, except Remus Lupin declined, said he wished to retire from active duty due to health reasons, and Bill...." Arthur's expression darkened. "I have not seen him since the battle. It's as if he's avoiding me."

Percy's cheeks flamed and he looked down.

"Still," Arthur continued. "I believe you can do well. You are bright and you are quick. Just remember to follow me in all things, and I think you will prove yourself."

The younger wizard looked up at his father, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Yes, father," he said. "Of course, I will always follow you. You need not question my loyalty ever again."

"Excellent," Arthur said, and he clasped Percy on the shoulder. "Now, your first task I give you as deputy minister is to make absolutely certain that there is no question or roadblocks thrown in the way of any of our military veterans receiving full military compensation for their services, particularly for Remus Lupin."

"Has there been a question of it?" Percy asked, his eyebrows raised.

Arthur scowled. "In Remus' case, yes. Some members of this ministry would like to see him denied compensation on the basis that he is a werewolf!" He shook his head in disgust. "He saved my life, and I won't forget that so easily. It was a travesty enough that he was never given formal recognition for his services."

"Do you want me to request a reconsideration ...?" Percy began.

Arthur shook his head. "I was going to, but Remus insisted the official recognition didn't matter to him. But his health has seemed poor of late, and even now werewolves have difficulty getting employment. I do not want to see one of our great heroes living in poverty!"

"Yes, father, I understand," Percy said. "This will be my first priority."

"Wonderful," Arthur said, and for the first time in years, he smiled at his son. "Now let's go back in. We have much work to do."

* * * * *

Bill sat in an old, padded rocking chair, rocking back and forth near a bright fireplace. There was a duffel bag next to the rocking chair, and his outdoor cloak was draped over one arm.

"Oh father," he whispered to himself. His words echoed slightly in the empty room. "You have it all now, the head of the Muggle Department, Defense deputy and now Minister of Magic. As the weird women promised. Yet I fear you played most foully for it. You have changed much in so short a time, I barely know you anymore. How can I possibly faithfully serve you now, when my heart suspects so much?"

"Daddy? Are we going somewhere tonight?" a young voice called.

Bill looked over and smiled at the 5-year-old, flaxen-haired boy who looked up at him with questioning blue eyes. The child so resembled his mother, the older wizard thought with sadness: the same hair, the same eyes, and the same nose and cheeks covered with a smattering of the Weasley freckles.

"Hullo, little man," Bill said as he picked his son up and sat the boy on his lap. "Yes, we will be going somewhere shortly."

"Grandma and grandpa's?" the little boy asked hopefully.

"No, Tristan," Bill said, with a touch of sorrow. "They aren't home right now."

"Oh," Tristan said, disappointed. "Rats! I was hoping for grandma's chocolate chip cookies!"

"Me too, lad," Bill said with a sad smile. "Me too. But come, we better go." He grabbed his traveling cloak, Summoned a smaller cloak from a hook near the door and started to help Tristan put it on.

"Where are we going?" Tristan asked.

But before Bill could answer, the face and shoulders of Arthur Weasley appeared in Bill's fireplace.

"Bill," Arthur said, somewhat reproachfully. "I've been trying to contact you all day! Where have you been?" He took note of Bill's and Tristan's outdoor cloaks. "Where were you heading?"

"Hi grandpa!" Tristan waved cheerfully at the fireplace. "Are you home now?"

"Hello, big guy!" Arthur said warmly. "No, I'm still at work." Then he returned a cooler gaze to Bill. "Why haven't you responded to any of my notes?"

"I've... been busy," Bill said. "I'm sorry. So, what was it you wanted?"

"First, I was wondering where you were planning to go tonight with the boy," Arthur said, picking up on Bill's uneasiness. "Molly's not home, she and several of the others are at the Leaky Cauldron going over how to distribute the reparations money and prioritizing other projects to help families get back on their feet. I had wanted to tell you about it, but you made yourself scarce. I'd be down there myself, but Ginny and I got caught up with work here."

Bill's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, then he turned his attention back to his father. "We were just going to go for a walk," Bill said lightly. "It has been a while since I've spent any time with my boy."

Arthur looked at him suspiciously. "Well, I understand that. But I do want to meet with you later. We have some other things we need to discuss."

"I won't be available tonight or tomorrow," Bill said. "Mum is busy tonight and is away all day tomorrow, and I don't want to leave Tristan alone. Unless I can bring him...."

"No," Arthur said quickly. "What we have to talk about is strictly for adults."

"Awwww," Tristan whined. "I want to see you, grandpa!"

Arthur smiled indulgently. "I'm sure we will see each other sometime, little man."

"I will get back to you when I am able," Bill said as a way of ending the conversation. "But we best be off before it's too late for walks and it's time for his bedtime."

Arthur stared at his oldest son for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well. Good night, and try to contact me tomorrow. This is important."

"Goodnight, father," Bill replied, and he finished buttoning Tristan's cloak. Arthur's head and shoulders disappeared with a loud "pop!"

"Let's go," Bill said as they walked out the door.

"Where are we going?" Tristan asked.

"Just a little ways," Bill replied as he reached for Tristan's hand. "To a spot I visit." He disliked the idea of taking his little boy to Grimmauld Place, but he felt he had no choice. He knew Severus Snape would be there tonight, and while he disliked the acerbic potions master personally, he was the only one he could get a discreet word to. "But we must move quickly, now, and you must be quiet and stay near, all right?"

Tristan nodded, his blue eyes wide, as they walked into the night.

* * * * *

Arthur sat stunned in his chair, his hands clenching and unclenching on the tops of the wooden arms.

"He suspects us, doesn't he?" Ginny asked nervously. She was chewing on a fingernail.

"He suspects me, anyway," Arthur said. "We have to go find him."

"Where would he go?" Ginny asked. "12 Grimmauld Place?"

"Most likely. He wouldn't repeat his suspicions of us, whatever they are, to your mum, so he won't go to the Leaky Cauldron. We must hurry, Ginny. Our advantage is that we can Apparate. Bill can't Apparate with Tristan, and he wouldn't try flying with the boy."

"What do you plan to do?" Ginny asked, her tone pleading. "We have to try to reason with him, make him understand! What's to be done?"

"Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest child," Arthur replied as he gripped his wand. "Your father can handle this. He will come around, or...."

"Or what?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide, fearful.

Arthur smiled grimly as he reached into his desk and pulled out two glittering white objects. "Never you mind about that. Let us go."

They both Disapparated at the same time with a loud "crack!"

* * * * *

"Daddy, are we almost there yet?" Tristan asked. He stumbled over one of the cobblestones on the darkening road but recovered his balance quickly. "I'm getting tired."

"We are almost there," Bill said. "Just a few more blocks...." He picked up the boy and draped him over his shoulder.

Crack! Two wizards dressed in black robes and wearing white masks suddenly appeared in front of him. Bill blanched and hastily set his son down. Death Eaters! But he thought they were all gone...!

The larger wizard pointed his wand at the boy and Summoned the child to him before Bill could draw his wand, and Tristan flew through the air into the Death Eater's arms.

"DADDY!" Tristan screamed in fright. "DADDY, HELP ME!"

Bill's face went white. "Don't hurt him, please don't hurt him!" he begged. "He's only a child! Let him go!"

To Bill's amazement, the larger wizard gently set Tristan on the ground and gave him a pat.

"Fly along, little one," the wizard said in a husky voice. "Fly, boy, fly. Go back home."

Tristan stood, frozen, and he looked at his father in panic.

"Do ... do what he says, son," Bill said hoarsely. "Run back home. Hurry!"

"But daddy...." Tristan cried, tears swelling in his eyes.

"Daddy ... daddy will be home shortly," Bill tried to reassure the child. "Now go! Go!"

The child took off into the night. Bill watched his son depart until Tristan was swallowed by the encroaching nightfall.

"What ... what do you want?" Bill hissed. "I thought all of your kind were captured...."

The larger wizard removed his mask, and the more slender one did likewise. Bill stared in disbelief.

"We need to talk, son," said Arthur Weasley, the larger wizard. Ginny stood silently next to him.

"What is this?" Bill whispered. He lowered his wand. "Scaring us like that? Tristan will have nightmares for weeks, he's only just started sleeping through the night after losing ... after Fleur's death! Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Do you see either of us laughing?" Arthur replied.

A tense silence followed. "Where ... where did you get the masks?" Bill asked.

Arthur smiled mirthlessly. "Souvenirs. I keep them at my desk. I look at them as trophies from the war."

"That is sick," Bill said, his face twisting in revulsion.

"You are entitled to your opinion," Arthur said with a noncommittal shrug.

"I need to get back to my son," Bill said. "He's never been this far out by himself in the dark."

"You'll be with your son soon enough," Arthur said. "But first, we need to talk."

"About what?" Bill started to sweat.

"About Dumbledore," Ginny said, and she ran over to her brother and gripped him by the shoulders. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "You must listen to us, you must understand...."

"Ginny," Arthur reprimanded gently as he pushed his daughter back from Bill. He turned to his oldest son. "I know you are suspicious of us. You think we may have had a part in Dumbledore's death."

Bill looked from his father to his sister, then back again. "I know I recall hearing you mentioning how you wished he were dead. I also made a little stop at Borgin and Burkes, and found out that a certain goblet owned by Montague was purchased at their shop within the past month. By a young witch with red hair." He glared at Ginny, who blanched and turned away. She nervously ran her hand through her auburn locks.

Arthur sighed. "All right. I won't lie to you or mock your intelligence. I did poison Dumbledore, and used one of Montague's discarded glasses to do it."

Bill's knees went weak. "You ... you confess to killing...?" He couldn't say the rest.

"Yes," Ginny said. "But you must understand why, please listen to us!"

"I don't care about your reasons!" Bill shot back. "A good man is dead! And you are ready to pin the blame on Montague! An innocent man!"

"Innocent? Hah! Innocent of this, perhaps," Arthur countered heatedly. "But he is guilty of murder too, as far as I'm concerned. He may have never killed with his wand, but his money went to help those who did, so his hands are just as bloody."

"Bill, listen," Ginny said, her tone cajoling. "It was a terrible thing we did, yes, but the Wizengamot is considering a review of Lucius Malfoy's sentence now because of father. We couldn't have done that with Dumbledore alive. Now we can get our justice!"

"You mean revenge," Bill whispered hoarsely. "This goes beyond justice!"

"Bill!" Ginny implored. She once again ran to embrace her brother, but Bill pushed her away roughly.

"I don't know you two anymore!" he snarled.

"You were going to tell Snape your suspicions, weren't you?" Arthur asked coolly.

Bill blanched, but he nodded, reluctantly.

"Please, Bill," Ginny said. "We have been able to do much good, much! The Death Eaters are going to Azkaban, the war is over, we are rebuilding ... would you sacrifice all of that?"

"If I stay silent of what I now know, I am as guilty of murder as you," Bill replied.

"It was necessary!" Ginny said as she clutched Bill's robes.

"It was convenient!" Bill retorted. He set his jaw and took a deep breath....

But Arthur anticipated his son's actions and quietly cast a shimmering white net over him.

"Oh no," Arthur said softly, his tone filled with regret. "I can't let you go. Not unless you swear you will keep this to yourself."

"I cannot swear to that," Bill said as he struggled with the net.

"Do you have no sense of family pride? Of what this will do to your mother? To Ron and Percy? Do you really want to be responsible for throwing your own father and sister into Azkaban?" Arthur said quietly. There was an unsettling gleam in his eyes.

Bill started perspiring freely. He's gone mad, he thought in despair. "Dad," Bill said quietly, pleading. "They may let you go on insanity, act of passion, you were angry about the verdict...."

"That won't work and you know it," Arthur as he stepped closer to his son. "You can't poison someone in a rash moment of madness. Poisoning takes planning, any jury will see that. Premeditation, boy, takes the wind out of any act of passion plea."

"Bill," Ginny whispered. There were tears in her eyes. "Don't you love us? Don't you care about your family? Please, please understand...."

Bill shook his head. "There is nothing to understand," he hissed angrily. "I don't know you!" He broke free from the net.

Panicked, Arthur aimed his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted. Ginny shrieked in alarm.

"No!" she cried out, and she tried to pull Arthur's arm out of the way.

A thin, meager stream left the wand and hit Bill ... who remained standing. There was a stunned look on his face.

"You ... you don't want to kill me," Bill said, his voice trembling. He tentatively reached out a hand. "Father, let us go together. If you confess, they might grant leniency...."

A terrible change came over Arthur Weasley. He snarled and reached into his robes and pulled out something small, sharp and glittering. He then lunged at Bill like an enraged beast....

* * * * *

"I hope Bill's home," Ron said as he and Harry walked down the dark, cobblestone path towards Bill's house. He clutched his Nimbus 2002 in his hand. "I haven't seen him, he's been so withdrawn since... well, since our trip to Knockturn Alley. Something shook him there."

"How's Tristan?" Harry asked. He looked down to make sure the bristles on his Firebolt weren't dragging on the ground.

"Shooting up like a weed," Ron said with pride. "He's probably grown three inches since you've seen him last."

"How's he dealing with his mum's death?" Harry asked.

Ron's grin disappeared. "As well as can be expected. At least he didn't see it. He still has nightmares and doesn't like being left alone, especially in the dark."

"Are we about there, yet?" Harry asked as he looked around. He had never been to Bill and Fleur's new flat.

"Just about," Ron said as they reached an intersection. "We turn right here, and go about two more blocks, then ... what on earth? Tristan!"

Harry and Ron gaped in shock as Tristan came running up to them from the left, out of breath and obviously terrified.

"Tristan!" Ron asked as he ran up to the boy and scooped him up. "What are you doing out here by yourself? Where's your dad?"

Tristan was sobbing. "Death Eaters! Death Eaters! They have daddy!"

Ron and Harry blanched.

"Where was your dad last?" Ron asked.

Tristan pointed down the dark street behind him. Ron hoisted the little boy onto his back and both he and Harry started sprinting down the road, carrying their broomsticks.

Suddenly, a high-pitched, feminine scream pierced the darkness.

"What...?" Ron gulped. The two wizards started to run faster, when they heard another scream, this time from a man.

"Bill," Ron muttered. "Oh sweet Merlin!"

"Ron, you stay here with Tristan!" Harry ordered as he mounted his broom. "I'll go investigate...."

* * * * *

Arthur bent over the prone body of his son. He was unconscious of everything around him, of Ginny, who was backing away quietly, speechless in shock. He was unconscious of the wind picking up, and the incoming clouds. He was unmindful of his own injuries, inflicted as Bill struggled against him. He only saw his son, who was pale as a ghost.

"Why Bill?" Arthur asked. "Why did you make me do it? Why?"

Bill struggled to speak. "Father ...." He moaned. "Father...."

Ginny sobbed and ran off deeper into an alley. Arthur didn't notice.

"I had no choice," Arthur whispered. "You left me no choice."

Bill remained silent, but fixed his father with a cold glare from rapidly fading eyes.

"Bill? Where are you!" another voice called. "Bill!"

Arthur gasped as he saw out of the corner of his eye another figure approach. Harry Potter. Just what he needed. He placed the mask back over his face and stood as Harry drew nearer. The figure of Harry stopped several yards away and stood in shock as Arthur stood and Disapparated.

* * * * *

Harry ran over to Bill, wondering at the same time who the Death Eater was and how he managed to escape the last battle.

"Bill!" he cried as he ran over to the wounded wizard, who was barely breathing. Harry knelt beside Bill and looked at him. "Oh Merlin!" he whispered in horror.

Bill had been stabbed several times, and there was blood everywhere.

"Father," Bill gasped out. "Father ...."

"Your dad's not here," Harry said, his voice cracking. "Hang on, just hang on. Hang in there, I'm going to get help! I'm going for help!"

Harry stood and concentrated, and soon he found himself in front of Ron and Tristan.

"Harry!" Ron called out in horror. "Are you all right? Your hands, your robes...!"

"Where's daddy?" wailed little Tristan from Ron's arms.

"Ron," Harry said. "Take my broom, take Tristan and get to your mum's, then send for help! I'm going to go back to see what I can do."

"Bill ...?" Ron asked.

"Badly hurt," Harry said as he handed Ron his broom. "Very badly. Now go! Hurry!"

"Hang on, Tristan," Ron muttered as he mounted the Firebolt and placed Tristan in front of him.

Tristan screeched. "But daddy says I'm not allowed on a big broom yet!"

"It's Okay, this time," Ron said hoarsely. "Uncle Ron promises you won't be in trouble!"

Ron kicked off the ground with some force, and soon they were both soaring out of sight. Harry Disapparated and soon was standing next to Bill again.

"Hang in there, Bill," he urged as he knelt next to the still wizard. "Hang in...." But Harry saw at once that Bill was gone. His sightless eyes stared up into the sky.

Harry closed his own eyes and let out a soft moan. "No, oh no," he whispered. His heart in his throat, Harry gently closed Bill's eyes, and he bowed his head, overwhelmed with grief.

Several loud cracking sounds reverberated behind him, and Harry knew that other members of the Order where coming to help. Too late.

"Harry!" Elphias Doge shouted. "Where are you?"

"Over here," Harry replied dully. "Bill's here. He's dead. There was nothing...."

Several wizards ran up, led by Amos Diggory and Severus Snape.

Snape knelt next to Bill's body. "Several stab wounds to the chest, including one at the heart," he muttered tonelessly as he instinctively felt for a pulse in the neck, knowing at the same time he wouldn't find one. "Death probably occurred within minutes. Even a master healer...." Snape rose to his feet as several more cracking sounds were heard.

"Bill!" a woman's voice shrieked. "Where is he???"

"Oh dear god, it's Molly," Diggory whispered, and he ran over to her. Doge and Severus followed. "No, Molly, don't! You don't want to see...!" He grabbed the sobbing woman and held her back.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley said, and she struggled against Doge, Snape and Diggory. "I want to see my son! I want my son!"

There was another crack. "What has happened?" Harry heard Percy ask frantically. "What happened to Bill? Is he...?"

"He's dead," Severus said curtly. "There's nothing you can do here. Take your mother home, she does not need to see this...."

"Dead???" Mrs. Weasley wailed in despair. "No! He can't he just can't, not Bill, not another of my sons ...NOOOOOOO!" she collapsed to the ground, sobbing. Percy held his mother, then helped her to her feet. He was shaking badly.

"Percy, take her home," Diggory said.

Percy nodded mutely and led Mrs. Weasley away from the scene.

Harry noticed Ron walking a distance away.

"Ron," he called out to his friend and he ran up to him. "Maybe you should go, too. Your mum could really...." He stopped and stared as he saw what had caught Ron's attention.

Ginny was standing in the street in her white robes she had worn to work that day. They were stained with blood and grime. She stood in front of a large puddle, dropping in flat, white objects into the surface of the water one by one. The fragments made odd ripples in the water, distorting Ginny's reflection.

"Ginny?" Harry called. "Ginny? Are you all right? Were you hurt?"

"Ginny?" Ron echoed. He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her in disbelief.

"Where is my father?" Ginny whispered, her voice haunted.

"I ... I think he's back at the Ministry," Ron said. "Why don't we go home? Bill, he's ... he's gone, and mum needs us...."

"Where is my father?" Ginny repeated as if she hadn't heard. "I've lost him. I've lost him. He's gone." She continued dropping in the strange white shards one by one. The constant motion of the water nearly obliterated her reflection.

Ron made a strange noise as Harry looked on helplessly.

"Maybe she saw what happened," Harry said. His voice cracked.

"Ginny," Ron said, and he stepped forward. "Ginny, stop that!" He took her hands and gently brushed the remaining flat objects from her hands. "Merlin," he whispered as he saw the palms of her hands and her arms, which were covered in blood and dirt. "Here, let's try to get some of that off." He knelt Ginny down and tried washing off the grime from Ginny's hands and arms. Ginny robotically started rubbing her hands together in the water.

"It won't come out," Ginny whispered. There were tears in her eyes.

"It's about out now," Ron said with forced cheerfulness. "Some soap will take care of the rest."

"It won't come out," Ginny repeated. "Father is gone. He is lost. He is lost... my hands ... my hands...." She started sobbing.

"Come on Ginny," Ron implored. He looked at Harry, panic-stricken. Harry could only shrug helplessly. "Let's ... let's go home."

Ron and Harry each took Ginny by the arms and led out of the alley.

Behind them, unnoticed, were a soiled black cloak and the remnants of a shattered blood-stained mask, its glistening white pieces littering the street and the bottom of the puddle.

* * * * *

"Ron, are you sure you are going to be all right with this, mate?"

Harry and Ron were walking through the vast halls of the Ministry of Magic, on their way to an emergency meeting in light of Bill Weasley's death in the hands of a possible Death Eater.

"Yeah," Ron replied. His face was pale, and he was white around the lips, but his jaw was set, resolute. "I want to do everything in my power to catch the monster who did this."

Harry nodded sympathetically, his own expression determined. They rounded a corner and started heading toward a staircase when they saw Arthur Weasley in front of them on the stairs.

"Dad!" Ron called out, and he jogged over to his father, who turned and looked at his son as if he had been startled out of a deep sleep.

"Arthur," Harry said, and he, too, ran over to the minister. "How ... how are you doing?"

"Evening," Arthur said wearily. "As well as can be expected. There will be revenge for what happened tonight."

"I'm so sorry, so sorry I couldn't do anything," Harry said as the three wizards started heading up the long staircase.

Arthur only nodded curtly without looking at either of the younger wizards.

"Ginny's still in shock," Ron said after a moment of silence. "Hermione and a St. Mungo's healer are watching her at your place. Percy's with mum, who's taking it pretty hard. Tristan, he's upset, hasn't said a word since we got him to your place ... dad? Are you listening? Dad?" Ron placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur recoiled and hissed in pain. "Watch it!" he snarled.

Harry and Ron started in surprise.

"Dad?" Ron asked. "Are you all right? Does your shoulder hurt? And ..." Ron peered closely at his father's face. "Dad ... how did you get those scratches on your cheek?"

"Cut myself shaving," Arthur replied bluntly.

"And the shoulder?" Harry asked, and his right eyebrow arched, nearly disappearing under his bangs.

"Old war injury is acting up," Arthur snapped, and he quickened his pace up the stairs. The two younger wizards easily kept up.

"Dad, I know you injured your leg," Ron said slowly. "But you never said anything about...."

"What is this?" Arthur shouted, his face turning red. "Twenty questions? Perhaps I did, but it doesn't usually bother me as much!"

Harry then noticed the bottom of Arthur's cloak: it was splattered with mud, water ... and something else....

"Arthur?" Harry started to say, and he pointed to the older wizard's robes. "How did you get...?"

Ron, interrupted with a gasp. "Dad!" he exclaimed. "What did you do to your right wrist and hand? It looks like Crookshanks used you as a scratching post!"

Arthur stopped and whirled on Harry and Ron, who both backed down a stair at the cold intensity of the older wizard's gaze.

"Are you accusing me of something?" Arthur hissed. There was a strange light in his eyes that made Ron and Harry recoil. He started down the stairs towards the two younger wizards, who started backing away. "Are you? What do you think I have been doing?"

"Arthur...." Harry implored, completely unnerved at this strange behavior.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK I HAVE BEEN DOING???" Arthur shouted, hoarse with rage.

"Dad!" Ron said. "Calm down! We were just ... just worried about you, that's all...."

"Just worried, you say," Arthur said, and he gave an insane laugh that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. "Just worried? Worried? Then why are you questioning me like a common, bloody criminal, eh?"

"Dad...." Ron tried again.

"Minister!" Another voice called from the top of the staircase.

All three turned and looked as Severus Snape started to descend towards them.

"Minister Weasley," Severus said. "Your presence is urgently requested upstairs in the meeting room."

Arthur turned slowly from Severus to Harry and Ron. He glared coldly at them before ascending the staircase again, all the while throwing murderous glances in their direction.

"Coming, Severus?" Arthur asked coolly as he reached the other wizard.

"No, not quite yet," Severus said, and his eyes glittered coldly. He withdrew a large ream of paper from his robes and glared down at the younger wizards below. "I need to have a little chat with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley about the very poorly written report they submitted earlier today on the Auror training program."

Harry and Ron stared open-mouthed as Severus descended the staircase to them. Arthur cast one more glacial look at the two younger wizards before reaching the top of the stairs and disappearing out of sight.

"I remember your papers from school, and was never overly impressed with the quality of your work, but you have outdone yourselves with this load of rubbish," Severus snarled as he closed the distance and thrust out the stack of white paper towards them.

Harry's face reddened. "We are no longer your students. You do not need to condescend...."

"Well, perhaps you should stop acting like students," Snape said caustically. "Look at this mess! How could you dream of presenting this to the financial board?" He started flipping through the pages, and stopped at about the third page. "Look at this!"

Harry and Ron stared at the third page in disbelief. Instead of seeing a page of their written report, there was a note scrawled in a very familiar scripty hand:

"You are in grave danger. Leave here immediately. Head to Remus Lupin's, Olde Center Court Alleyway, near Brighton. Go to the Palace Pier."

The text started to fade back into Harry and Ron's original report as Snape thrust the stack of papers in Harry's hands.

"Do you understand me?" Snape hissed.

Harry's face flushed, but he kept his voice steady and low. "Yes, professor. I understand perfectly. I will ... start working at once."

"Good," Snape said. "Now go, you dunderheads, and don't come back until this is straightened out!"

Harry nodded mutely as Snape whirled and ascended the stairs again.

"What did he mean...?" Ron croaked out.

"Let's go," Harry said, and he grabbed the red-haired wizard by the shoulder and turned him around. "Quickly."

"Where are we going?" Ron whispered.

"Out," Harry replied. "Then...." He gave Ron a long look as he Summoned his Firebolt to his hand and started for the door. Ron Summoned his Nimbus and followed mutely as the two wizards made their way back down the halls and out the door.

"What are we going to do?" Ron asked as he and Harry mounted their brooms and kicked off into the star-studded August sky.

"Keep as quiet as possible in case someone is eavesdropping," Harry said. After a few moments, once they were high in the air, he added. "You go to your flat, I'll go to mine. Meet me at Cecil Court in a half hour, then we head to the Palace Pier."

* * * * *

Less than three hours later, Harry and Ron touched down on the Palace Pier and looked around. The silhouettes of the multi-story buildings which stretched down the shoreline, were barely illuminated by the flickering streetlights and the waxing crescent moon. Only a few scattered lights could be seen from the windows of the many structures. A small carnival could barely be seen in the shadows, its usual cacophony of lights and sounds eerily still in the darkness.

"Well, now what?" Ron said as he peered closely at his watch. "It's nearly 11. I don't think Lupin will fancy us knocking at his door at this hour."

"First we have to find it," Harry said as he dismounted his broom. "Olde Center Court Alleyway, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds right," Ron said absently. "Well, we can't stand here all night, let's go look. Maybe we can find a place to hole up for the night ...."

"Harry? Ron?" a familiar, hoarse voice called.

"Professor!" Harry said, relieved, as he saw Remus approach them. He was wearing a full-length nondescript gray cloak, and the long hood nearly covered his face. But there was no disguising his voice or walk, or the plain wooden cane the werewolf used. Remus also carried a broom, a Comet 260.

"We were sent to find you," Ron said.

"We need help...." Harry began to explain.

Remus held up a hand and looked around sharply. "I know, I know. I received an urgent owl about you two not an hour ago. Quickly, follow me, and stay quiet ... I don't think there are any Ministry people about, but we can't take chances, not with...." He suddenly glanced at Ron uneasily. "Let's go," he whispered, and he mounted his broom. The others did likewise.

"Just follow me," Remus said in a low voice. "I live nearby, in the outskirts of Brighton, in Lennox Pass."

Remus kicked off the ground and sailed into the air, with Harry and Ron following close behind. They flew east for about five minutes before Remus started angling his broom downwards. They landed softly on an old, cobblestone street, lined on either side by two- and three-story Medieval-style buildings.

The narrow pathways made Harry feel as if he had stepped back in time to the days of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine, and Richard the Lion-Hearted. Most of the buildings were dark and shuttered, but smoky yellow light illuminated from a few pubs, and Harry could occasionally see a patron walk - or more often stagger - out.

Remus made a sharp right, then a left down an even more narrow pass. The buildings they saw now were one-story attached apartments. Remus then turned to his right between apartment numbers #132 and #135 and silently handed Harry a slip of paper. Harry and Ron read the scripty scrawl silently, which Harry recognized instantly as Snape's.

"Remus Lupin's full address is 133 Olde Center Court Alleyway. If you value your hides, listen to orders for once in your lives and do not leave this place until otherwise instructed."

Even when he is helping us, Snape manages to insult us, Harry thought ruefully.

Harry and Ron concentrated on the space between the two apartments, and, like at Grimmauld Place, another apartment seemed to push its way through, apartment 133.

Remus looked up and down the alleyway to make certain no one was watching, then led the way inside, with Harry and Ron following close behind.

Once inside, Harry looked around curiously. The apartment was small and plainly furnished. A well-worn brown couch with several bare spots rested against the plain right wall. An unpretentious pine bookshelf with chipping green paint, located on the right side of the couch, was nearly obscured by the numerous books crammed on the shelves and the old-fashioned radio resting on top. Remus' victrola was on a small table next to the bookshelf, with several vinyl records of Cole Porter, Frank Sinatra, Benny Goodman, Louis Armstrong and several other musicians neatly stacked on a shelf beneath the table. An ivory-colored coffee table rested in front of the couch, and had on its surface a stack of cork coasters and a photo album which, judging by the tears and dog-eared appearance of the yellowed pages, was much traveled and thumbed through. On the left of the couch was a nondescript blue recliner with white dot patterning. The recliner was mostly hidden by a brown fringed blanket.

To Harry's right, he could see a short hallway with a bedroom at the end. The hall jogged to the right to another bedroom and a restroom that Harry couldn't see.

Remus removed his shabby outdoor cloak and hung it on a hook near the door. Harry and Ron did likewise, their newer, black cloaks making a startling contrast with the older wizard's worn one. However, Harry noted that Remus' robes, while a plain, muted olive and bronze, looked as if they had just come out of Madam Malkin's.

"Make yourself at home, lads," Remus said as he went into the small kitchenette area, which was separated from the living room by a partial wall. The werewolf peeked out through the large open space in the wall. "Do either of you care for anything to drink?"

"No, thank you," Ron replied dully as he dropped his suitcase and sat heavily on the couch. He put his face in his hands and sighed.

Harry dropped his own belongings, went over to the couch and gripped Ron firmly by the shoulder.

"Harry?" Remus whispered softly.

"No, nothing for me," Harry said without taking his eyes off of his friend. "Thank you."

Remus looked pityingly at Ron before pouring himself a glass of water in a red plastic cup. He then went to the recliner and sat down.

"Thankfully, I just went to the market this afternoon, so the cupboards are full," Remus said, and he took a sip of his water. "So, what happened tonight? Severus gave me a very abridged version, something about you two getting into an argument with the Minister."

"Not quite," Harry said dryly. "He did most of the arguing. We ran into Arthur on the way to the meeting tonight. You heard about Bill, right?"

Remus nodded sadly. "Yes, that is awful. Ron, I'm so sorry. How ... how is Ginny? I heard that she may have seen what happened. And how's your mum and Percy? And the little boy? Poor lad," Remus reflected quietly. "And how are you doing?"

"Ginny is still ... in shock," Ron whispered hoarsely, and he ran a hand over his face. "She was catatonic last I saw her earlier this evening. The others are as well as can be expected. Me?" Ron snorted bitterly. "I don't know how I am. My brother is killed, my sister has cracked and my father ... I don't know what to make of him anymore. I feel I don't know him."

Harry looked at his friend, startled. He had never heard Ron talk about his father like this.

Remus merely nodded as if he understood. "What happened tonight?"

"We were on our way up to the meeting room," Harry said. "We saw Arthur Weasley. He was acting queer the entire time, he never asked about Ginny or Molly, and that struck me as odd. And he looked ... banged up. He got defensive, then angry when we asked about the scratches and marks on his face and hands. Thought he was going to flip out and attack us."

"Did he ever say where he was coming from?" Remus asked. He set his water down on the table and rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands in front of him.

"We never got that far in the conversation," Ron said sarcastically as he looked up. "He was too busy chewing our heads off."

"I see," Remus murmured, and his expression became concerned.

"Say," Harry asked suddenly. "Why do you have a Fidelius charm on this place? You've retired from the Order, for health reasons I heard. I hope you've been well?"

Remus sat up and laughed bitterly. "Health reasons. Oh, I retired for health reasons all right, I was sick -- sick at heart at what I was seeing. These days are getting about as dangerous as ...well," he cast a quick glance at Ron and fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Ron sprang up from the sofa and went to the opposite wall.

"You needn't mince words for my sake," Ron said hollowly as he stared at the bare, white wall in front of him. "I have not been entirely blind to what has been going on, or the fact that my father ... isn't himself He hasn't been for the past month." He leaned against the wall heavily.

Remus looked down at his hands, torn between whether to remain silent or speak.

"What have you seen?" Harry prompted in a low voice.

The werewolf sighed. "Too much. Enough that these precautions with the Fidelius charm are necessary. I saw Death Eaters tortured brutally for information, then given the Dementor's Kiss. I've seen the minister go behind others' backs to work on his personal agendas. He is still pushing for a retrial on Lucius Malfoy, despite the Wizengamot's reluctance. I also have seen ...." Here he once again looked at Ron, then down at his hands.

Ron turned and looked at Remus.

"What?" Ron asked quietly.

Remus looked at the red-haired wizard. "Nothing ... concrete," he said quietly. "We don't have proof...."

"Proof? Of what?" Harry asked.

"Proof that the ministry has the wrong man in the murder of Dumbledore," Remus said quietly. "Severus and I, mostly Severus, has been trying to obtain information, and we think we have enough for a new trial. We think the Wizengamot is about to execute an innocent man in two days ... well, innocent in Dumbledore's murder anyway. It hinges on the poison used, and how the goblet was obtained."

Something akin to an electric spark jolted through Ron. Goblet....

"What goblet?" Ron asked. "You mean the goblet that ... well...?"

"Yes," Remus said. "The one that was tainted. It was Montague's, but he denies owning it anymore, said he sold it. Didn't recall where and couldn't produce a receipt."

"Do you know what kind of poison was used?" Harry asked. This had never been released. Ron, meanwhile, walked slowly back to the couch, deep in thought.

Remus shook his head. "No. But it could only be one of two types, and Montague could have only used one if he was the assassin. Severus could give you a far more detailed explanation. But ... we think it's unlikely that it was Montague. We suspect the last person to see Dumbledore alive was ... was possibly...."

"Who was the last person?" Harry asked.

Remus looked away again. "The last person I remember seeing was Arthur Weasley," he said reluctantly. "But I was asleep before 10:30. If someone else came in, I didn't hear them. I am a deep sleeper. I do remember that he was acting strangely that night. I don't recall exactly what he said, but it was something about me accusing him of something. It was before he went upstairs."

"Hang on," Harry interjected. "Are you saying you think Arthur Weasley had a hand in this? But he was loyal to Dumbledore!"

"But he was also furious about Lucius Malfoy," Ron said dully. "And I just remembered something, it was the last trip I made with Bill. The last time I saw him alive, except at that battle. We were in Knockturn Alley, in Borgin and Burkes, getting information. I ... I noticed a dining set, Montague's, with one goblet missing. I pointed this out, and I remember, Bill, he reacted so ... so strangely. He seemed afraid, almost. He was asking questions as to who bought it. And Burkes said he could only remember that it was a young woman, with red hair."

Remus recoiled back into his chair as if something had struck him in the stomach.

"Ginny?" Harry queried, a stunned look on his face.

"She's not the only young woman with ginger hair," Ron said sharply. Than he sighed. "But they aren't that common either, and how many know their way around Knockturn Alley like Ginny? Burkes also said something about this woman buying potions ingredients."

"Merlin!" Remus whispered. "We suspected Arthur Weasley was involved somehow, but I never saw this. And now we have Bill's death, a day after he finds out about this goblet. And then there was that second cup Severus found, which had Arthur Weasley's fingerprints on it."

"Fingerprints?" Ron whispered, and he paled.

"I would like nothing more than to be proven wrong," Remus said grimly. "But too much adds up, especially with what you two have told me."

Ron lowered his head into his hands again with a groan. "I ... I need to go outside, for some fresh air."

Remus nodded. "Just don't walk away more than the door's width, and you will still be under the protection of the charm."

Ron arose to his feet and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

A tense silence followed.

"So," Harry said. "Anything else you have found out?"

"Plenty," Remus replied. "But it can wait. It's after midnight, and you have, I dare say, more than enough information to absorb already, and there are details Severus can explain better than I can."

Harry tried not to make a face. "Snape is coming here? So he knows...?"

Remus nodded. "Yes. Severus is my secret keeper. He, McGonagall, you and Ron are the only ones who can find me here. He usually stays in the back bedroom when he's not at Grimmauld Place, but I don't know if he'll be coming in tonight. One of you can have my room, and I'll camp out here...."

"Nothing doing!" Harry said firmly. "I feel bad we have to impose on you at all, we aren't kicking you out of your room!"

"It's no big deal...."

"I won't here of it," Harry interrupted. "And neither will Ron."

Just then, Ron came back in. His eyes were red and his face was splotchy.

"Where's the loo?" Ron asked, his voice tired and flat.

"Down the hall, to the right and straight ahead," Remus replied. Ron went silently.

"I'm going to call it a night," Remus said. "I'll fetch some extra blankets and pillows for you. If you need anything, help yourselves. I don't have much, but what I do have, you are welcome to."

"Thanks," Harry said. "We really appreciate you taking us in like this. I hope we don't have to be squatters for long."

"You aren't squatters," Remus said as he conjured four fluffy white pillows and two blue knit blankets, which settled on the coffee table. "I will enjoy having company."

"Fish and houseguests, professor...." Harry started to say with a wry grin.

"Hopefully this will be resolved in less than two weeks," Remus said. "And not just because space is tight. Things have gone too far for too long."

Ron emerged from the bathroom, his eyes somewhat less red.

"All right, Ron?" Remus asked sympathetically. Ron gave the older wizard a weak smile.

"I... not really," Ron admitted as he picked up a pillow and blanket. "But this is as good as its going to get for a while. Harry, you can have the couch, I'll take the recliner. Doubt I'll get much sleep anyway."

"You sure?" Harry asked. Ron nodded.

"Good night, then," Remus said. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

Harry and Ron both muttered a "good night" before settling on the couch and recliner respectively. But it was a long time before either one could go to sleep.

End of Act II

ACT III

"Madam Trelawney," Lavender Brown called out from near the fireplace in the main part of the store. "We're having a bit of trouble with this recipe here."

"What is it?" replied the wispy voice of the older witch from an above loft. She peered down at the two witches below through her enormous glasses.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were hovered over an enormous black cauldron. They both wore stained aprons over their brightly-colored robes and scarves, and both had their long hair tied back and contained with large red-checkered handkerchiefs. Parvati was holding a large red book and frowning over its smeary pages.

"What exactly is a fenny snake, and how would you fillet it?" Parvati asked.

"They only had a rattlesnake skeleton and skin at the Apothecary's," Lavender added.

"That should be quite all right," Trelawney said with a dismissive shrug as she floated down to their level. "These recipes you know are only guidelines. You can always substitute, I've done it a few times myself."

"I thought you nearly failed OWL-level potions?" Parvati queried. She looked at Trelawney skeptically. "You told us that yourself. That's why we are making this."

"Don't be impertinent," Trelawney said, her voice losing some of its mistiness. "I think the rattlesnake skeleton will suffice in this."

"Yes, Madam Trelawney," Parvati replied with an air of resignation.

"What exactly are we making this recipe for?" Lavender asked.

Trelawney merely smiled cryptically and went about the room straightening the poufs and curtains, fluttering around like a shimmering dragonfly.

"What else is on there that I need to get from the pantry?" Lavender asked as she straightened up.

"Hmmm," Parvati said as she again looked at the book and turned a page. "Eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat, tongue of dog...."

"I think we have all that," Lavender said. "Anything else?"

"There's lots to this recipe," Parvati replied. "Adder's fork, blind-worm's sting...."

"Oh dear," Lavender said. "I don't know about that last one."

"Just use one of the canned flobberworms," Trelawney said as she polished her crystal ball with a silken sleeve. "They're blind enough."

Lavender and Parvati exchanged skeptical glances but remained silent. Graymalkin, who was curled up into a ball on a purple pouf, opened one blue eye sleepily and glared at the witches, who were interrupting his nice nap. He yowled peevishly at them before shifting on the pouf and closing his eyes again.

"Lizard's leg, howlet's wing ...what's a howlet?" Parvati asked.

"That's an owl," Trelawney said. "I know we have that, I picked it up the other day. You'll find it on the top shelf of the ice box."

"Why didn't they just write 'owl?'" Parvati grumbled. "Instead of this howlet nonsense?"

"That is an old book," Trelawney said. She had left off polishing the crystal ball and was now dusting the candlestick holders. "They knew something of poetry back in the old days. Why, I remember in a former life, when I was a noblewoman in the court of Queen Elizabeth...."

Parvati shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes as Trelawney prattled on. Lavender, meanwhile, went to get the ingredients for the potion.

"Double, double toil and trouble," Parvati sang softly. "Fire burn and cauldron bubble...."

"Here we are," Lavender said, reappearing. A large box packed to overflowing hovered in front of her. Lavender raised the tip of her wand up, then gently lowered it, and the box settled slowly onto the ground. "Is there anything else?"

"Oh yes," Parvati said. "This recipe calls for a lot of strange stuff, you should see this...."

"Owww!" Trelawney cried out. "Oh oh oh! I saw this morning this was going to happen, but I couldn't prevent it." She walked over to the two younger witches and showed them her thumb. A small pinpoint of blood started to well up on its pad.

"Oh dear," Lavender said sympathetically. "I'm not very good with healing charms."

"Here's a bandage," Parvati said as she tore a piece of her headscarf into a small strip. "It's clean, you can wrap your thumb in that."

Trelawney took the scrap of fabric gratefully and started to bind up her injured thumb. Suddenly, she stiffened and closed her eyes, as if concentrating.

"What is it, Madam Trelawney?" Lavender asked, her eyes wide.

Trelawney opened her eyes. "Something wicked this way comes," she intoned.

The front door of their shop flew open violently, and Arthur Weasley strode in, his face flushed with rage. Graymalkin sprang to his feet and arched his back, hissing threateningly.

"How now, you secret, black and midnight hags?" Arthur hissed between clenched teeth.

"Midnight?" Parvati said with a snort. "It's barely 9 in the morning."

Lavender tittered. "And we are hardly hags, I dare say," she said with a flirtatious toss of her head. The two younger witches giggled.

Trelawney, however, did not laugh. Her stance was tense, as if she was anticipating an attack.

"What is it you do?" Arthur shouted.

"A deed without a name," Trelawney replied smoothly. Her round eyes watched the minister's every move. Graymalkin sprang from the pouf and dashed into the other room, hissing and spitting all the way.

"I conjure you, by that which you profess," Arthur said as he rapidly closed the distance between himself and the three witches. "However you came to know it? Answer me!"

"Know what, minister?" Parvati said coyly as she set the book down next to the box. Her eyes, however, watched the minister warily. Lavender, too, seemed to notice the growing tension and gazed fixedly at their guest through round, gray eyes.

"Cawdor's seat," Arthur said, and he balled his hands into fists. "The minister's position. You saw all of this. But did you see the price? Did you know the price?"

"Nothing comes without a price, minister," Trelawney said. She glided over to the table and placed her hand lightly on her crystal ball. "It was your choice whether or not to pay fate's toll for your heart's desire."

"I need to know what is in store for me now," Arthur said. "There are many who plot against me, would like to see me overthrown despite all I have done for our world! Answer me to what I ask you."

"Speak," Lavender said pertly.

"Demand," Parvati echoed, and she narrowed eyes.

"We'll answer," Trelawney said as she took a deck of tarot cards from near the crystal ball. They scattered across the table and swirled around like leaves caught up in a fresh fall breeze. The cards settled in a circle, and the head and shoulders of a figure in full armor appeared in the center.

"Arthur M. Weasley," intoned the apparition. "Minister of Magic."

"Yes," Arthur said. "That's me. Tell me, you unknown power...."

"He knows your thoughts," Trelawney said in a hushed voice. "Hear him, but say nothing."

"Arthur M. Weasley," the apparition repeated. "Minister. Beware the head of the Malfoy line. Blood will for blood revenge. If you cut off the end, the head will still bite."

Arthur nodded. "I have always hated the Malfoys and their treachery. But Lucius Malfoy remains even now in prison, and if I get my way, he will never leave." He clenched a fist at the open air and brought it down sharply on the table. "But I need to know...."

But the apparition had already started to fade.

"Wait!" Arthur demanded.

"He will not be commanded," Trelawney said. "Here's another, more potent than the first."

A second apparition came into view, this one the figure of a centaur with a branch in his hand.

"Who is this?" Arthur asked in wonder.

"Listen," Trelawney said.

"But speak not to it," Parvati added.

"Arthur Weasley," the centaur intoned. "Those who seek to overthrow you will succeed only when Birnam Wood comes to the heart of the Ministry."

Arthur laughed in triumph. "Birnam Wood? Comes to the Ministry? Even Dumbledore could never managed a trick like that!" But the thought of Dumbledore made him recoil, and he looked away from the vision, which had already started to fade.

"But what of the future?" Arthur asked after a moment. "Are there more dark days in store for me?"

"Be careful what you wish," Trelawney said.

"You might not like the answer," Parvati added.

"The future is dark," Lavender chimed in. "It would be best not to know too much of what lurks in the shadows of our making."

"Where does my path lead?" Arthur asked, his voice rising. "I would know what is in store for me!"

"Seek to know no more," Trelawney replied, and she started gathering the tarot cards.

Arthur slammed his hands down on the table, making the cards jump. The three witches looked at him, nonplussed.

"I will be satisfied," he hissed. "Deny me this, and an eternal curse fall on you!"

Trelawney stared at him, amused. Then she started to laugh, and the others joined her.

"Show! Show! Show!" the three witches murmured. "Show his eyes and grieve his heart!"

The older witch threw down the tarot cards again, and this time they in a straight line. All the cards were face up and each showed the ace of spades. Arthur paled.

"What is this?" Arthur whispered fearfully.

"Your past," Parvati said.

"Your present," said Lavender.

"Your future," added Trelawney.

From the center of each of the aces, a misty figure arose. Arthur started from his seat and backed away in alarm as he saw the figures of Dumbledore, of Bill, of the Death Eaters he had interrogated, of Kingsley Shacklebolt, of Emmeline Vance, of Narcissa Malfoy and Draco Malfoy, of Ginny... and on and on in a long line. The figures turned to Arthur and stared at him coldly. They pointed long white fingers at him accusingly and their eyes loudly spoke their condemnation.

"This is an outrage!" Arthur screeched. "What do you mean by this? What all do you know?"

"We only know what we see," Trelawney said. "Your fate rests entirely in your hands." She laughed again and pointed at the minister.

Arthur looked down at his hands to see them covered in blood, which seemed to pool from his palms and drip on the floor at his feet. With a startled cry of rage, he lunged at Trelawney ... who disappeared. The two younger witches also were nowhere to be seen.

"Father?"

Arthur turned to see Percy Weasley and Amos Diggory at the doorway, looking at him, puzzled. Arthur quickly hid his hands behind his back.

"Are you about done in this place?" Percy asked, and he looked around and wrinkled his nose.

"We need to get back to the Ministry, Arthur," Diggory added. "You have a meeting this morning, I believe...."

"And a stack of owl post," Percy added.

"I'll be right out," Arthur said as he backed away. "I just need to wash my hands...." He turned and looked at his hands, but the blood was gone. He started in surprise.

"Father?"

"Never mind," Arthur said nonchalantly. "It can wait until I get back to the office." He joined the two wizards outside, leaving the now empty room behind them.

* * * * *

Harry Potter started to wake slowly with a small groan. He tried to sit up, but realized he was a bit stiff. He half opened his eyes, which were still foggy with sleep. Where was he...?

The first thing he saw was Severus Snape seated on a plain wooden stool to the left of the door, gazing at the younger wizard with his perpetual scowl.

Harry groaned again and turned away. Snape was the last person he wanted to see just when he was waking up. It was probably a bad omen of things to come.

"Rise and shine, Potter," Snape said in his silky voice. "We have much to discuss."

"What time is it?" Harry mumbled as he forced his stiff back to straighten.

"It's nearly 10," Snape responded. "You should have been up two hours ago."

"We had rather a rough night," Harry retorted with a yawn.

"I assure you it was nothing compared to mine."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry said, as he looked over at Ron, who was still asleep. "Ron? Time to wake up, mate."

Ron merely mumbled something unintelligible and shifted slightly. Snape snorted in exasperation and went to shake the red-haired wizard. Harry swiftly got to his feet and placed a restraining hand on Snape's.

"No," Harry said, his eyes hard. "I'll wake him."

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched, but he merely withdrew his hand without a sound.

"Ron?" Harry said as he gently tapped his friend's face. "Wake up, Ron. Come on, now."

Ron grunted and opened one eye sleepily. "Where are we? I...." Then his eyes flew open as he took in his surroundings. The red-haired wizard folded his arms across his chest and exhaled sharply. "I ... I was hoping last night, that it was a bad dream. It wasn't, was it?"

"No, Ron," Harry said sadly. "None of it was."

"Yes, and your nightmare is only about to get worse," Snape said coldly. "You have no inkling how much your actions at the Ministry last night imperiled you."

"What do you mean...?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Good morning, lads," Remus called out as he entered the living room area. It was obvious from his dress - he was wearing a plain but new-looking blue and gray robe -- that he had been up for a while already. "I hope you were able to get some sleep last night?"

"Some," Harry replied as he went back over to the couch and sat down. Ron got up from the recliner and joined Harry on the couch.

"Are you hungry, yet?" Remus asked. "I have eggs, some sausage, cereal, oatmeal, pancakes...."

"Eggs and sausage, I guess," Harry said, with a quick look at Ron, who merely nodded. "Do you need help with anything?"

Remus shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "Quite all right. I'm no gourmet, but I've cooked for myself and occasionally others, and no one has been sent to St. Mungo's yet on account of it."

"'Yet,' I believe, being the operative word here," Snape retorted, and he rolled his eyes. Remus merely laughed good-naturedly and started preparing breakfast.

"So what kind of danger are we in, professor?" Harry asked.

Snape did not reply. Instead, he tossed that morning's Daily Prophet onto the coffee table. Harry picked it up, and his face grew more and more pale with each line:

The Daily Prophet

Aug. 5, 2003

POTTER, MINISTER'S SON SOUGHT FOR QUESTIONING IN DEATH

Minister of Magic calls for search after mysterious disappearance of two wizards, who are possible suspects in the death of the minister's oldest son

By Rita Skeeter

Reporter

A man-hunt has been issued for Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who mysteriously disappeared last night. Their destination or whereabouts are unknown at this time.

Arthur Weasley, minister of magic and father of Ron Weasley, said the two were supposed to have been in a meeting last night to discuss the possible existence of one or more Death Eaters, who are believed to be responsible for the death of Weasley's oldest son Bill. The minister said Potter and Ron Weasley had been acting strangely that night, and the sudden disappearance is "puzzling and alarming."

"I don't know what to make of this," the minister said. "I feel as if I have been like a father to Harry Potter, so he and my son just taking off like this is alarming, and I dare say suspicious. I have to ask myself now, what did they know about my son Bill's death?"

The last person to see the two was Severus Snape, Hogwarts professor of potions, who could not be reached for comment....

Harry threw the paper down on the coffee table, and Ron put his head in his hands.

"Arthur, he's ... he's trying to pin the blame for Bill's death on us?" Harry asked, his brain still trying to process what he had just read.

"This is only the latest in a series of lies and manipulations by the minister," Snape responded. "He and his allies in the ministry, and he still has many, have a way of making people who question his motives or actions 'disappear.' I, myself am no longer above suspicion since I was the last to see the two of you. Weasley is smart and he has become paranoid. When you did not come to the meeting and he could not find you afterwards in your offices or flats, he started to search for me. Luckily, I learned my lesson after what happened to Shacklebolt and Vance, so I left before he could find me. So we are now all fugitives from Weasley's 'justice.'"

"Hang on," Harry asked. "Back up a moment. What do you mean 'after what happened to Shacklebolt and Vance?' This is news to me!"

"That's just it, Harry," Remus said darkly as he cracked two eggs over a sizzling skillet. "No one knows."

"No one has see them in nearly a week," Snape added. "They were not present at the final battle, which struck me as very strange and suspicious. But I didn't say anything about their absence, nor anything about the more unsavory activities of the minister. It is, as they say, hard to argue with success. While Arthur Weasley's means of getting information and his field tactics were distasteful, no one can argue that they weren't a decisive means of finally bringing down the Dark Lord."

"But we fear the worst for Kingsley and Emmeline," Remus said as he stirred the contents of the skillet.

"The day before the battle," Snape continued. "I got word that both had found out about Weasley's ... interrogation tactics and bullying members of the Wizengamot to retry Lucius Malfoy...."

"Malfoy needs to be retried," Ron said hotly, and he looked up and glared at the potions master. "Two months is not enough for what he did!"

"Perhaps," Snape said with a glare of his own. "But bribes, death threats and hexes aren't exactly what you would call legal, Weasley. You father has placed himself above the law...."

"And I am sure you never acted above the law," Ron said sarcastically as he rose to his feet.

"Ron!" Harry whispered, and he tried to get his friend to sit back down. Ron didn't budge.

"My actions are not in question here," Snape retorted, his eyes glittering. "And I never had the power of the ministry at my command. I would also point out that while my father was no prize, I can't imagine him calling for a contrived manhunt on his own son for murder...."

Harry was barely able to get up and restrain Ron, who looked ready to kill the potions master then and there. In fact, had Remus not bolted from the kitchen to help Harry hold his friend back, Ron probably would have been at Snape's throat.

"Ron, sit down!" Harry shouted. "Calm yourself!"

"Severus!" Remus said sharply. "That was entirely uncalled for!"

Snape said nothing. His cheekbones turned a shade of pink, and his lips became a thin line. He looked away as Harry and Remus talked Ron into sitting back down.

"I think you forget, Snape, that we are no longer students," Harry said in a low voice. "Say something like that again, and I will not restrain him next time. In fact, I might help."

"Harry," Remus reprimanded. "We can't start bickering amongst ourselves now, not with us being stuck together for ... longer than even I anticipated. At least until Severus goes back to Hogwarts in a few weeks."

Oh great, Harry thought with an inward groan. From Ron's expression, he was thinking the same thing. Being cooped up with Snape for several weeks was nearly as uninviting a prospect as being arrested and imprisoned by the Ministry.

"You mean we can't leave at all?" Ron asked numbly. "None of us?"

Harry did not miss the skeptical look Ron shot in Snape's direction, nor the answering glare of distaste. For a moment he was almost missing #4 Privet Drive.

"I will come and go to get information and supplies," Remus said. "Up until now, by some miracle, I have not fallen under suspicion at the ministry. Not to my knowledge, at least. I will just take extra care in my dress and disguise myself."

"I will be able to go out occasionally if the need arises," Snape said. "Unfortunately, by sticking my neck out for you ungrateful pups, I have attracted too much suspicion. They will be looking for me, so my movements will necessarily be as limited as possible." Here he glared balefully at Harry and Ron. "This is a most unfortunate circumstance since I've been unable to contact McGonagall to let her know what is going on here."

It was now the turn of the younger two wizards to flush and look away.

"I ... understand that you took a chance trying to help us," Harry admitted humbly. "A big chance. We might ... might not be here now if we hadn't left." Ron nodded mutely and ran a hand through his hair.

"You're welcome!" Snape said sarcastically, and he crossed his arms over his chest, not entirely mollified.

"And we will have to stay inside all the time?" Ron asked, motioning towards himself and Harry.

Remus shrugged and looked at them sadly. "As Harry pointed out, you are no longer students. You are adults now, and I won't tell you what to do. I can only advise that if you ever leave here, you are taking a considerable risk. Everyone will be looking for you two. I don't think I need to remind you about the hunt for Sirius Black, and the fact that the Minister of Magic has considerable resources at his disposal. Especially now that he no longer has Lord Voldemort to contend with."

There were several moments of tense silence following this. Remus finally came into the living room area, with four plastic plates of eggs, sausage, toast and strawberry jam hovering before him. The plates, along with silverware and mugs of coffee, floated into the room and crowded themselves on the coffee table.

"Oh! Almost forgot," Remus said as he waved his wand again.

A small pitcher of cream and a sugar bowl with spoon flew into the room after the other dishes had landed. They hovered over the table as if looking for a spot to land before squeezing themselves between two of the plates.

"Let's tuck in," Remus said as he grabbed a plate. "Severus, do you want to sit on the recliner? It's far more comfortable than that stool, I assure you."

"I'm fine where I'm at," Severus replied stiffly as he Summoned a plate and a fork. Harry thought that Snape was not being entirely candid. "Fine" for him would have meant being anywhere but confined to the same flat with his two least favorite former students.

Remus shrugged and cheerfully took a seat on the recliner, and Harry and Ron grabbed a plate and started eating hungrily.

"We'll talk more after breakfast," Remus said between bites of his toast, and nodding sagely to himself. "Food always helps the mind do its work."

* * * * *

The Daily Prophet

Aug. 29, 2003

MONTAGUE SENTENCED TO BE EXECUTED TODAY

Convicted murderer of former Hogwarts headmaster, leader of The Order of the Phoenix, to receive the Dementor's Kiss at 11 p.m.

By Rita Skeeter

Reporter

The Wizengamot yesterday rejected a last-minute appeal for a new trial for Tobal Montague, who was convicted late last month of the murder of Albus Dumbledore.

Amos Diggory, the new head of the Wizengamot, said that new evidence brought before the judicial body was "not enough to warrant a new trial." Diggory replaced Amelia Bones, who tendered her resignation two weeks ago amidst rumors that she was keeping secret the whereabouts of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Bones has insisted to this day that she knows nothing about where Potter and Weasley are hiding, and declined further comment.

Potter and Ron Weasley are still being sought for questioning in the death of Bill Weasley, the Minister of Magic's oldest son....

* * * * *

"Minister, Deputy," McGonagall greeted cordially. "I'm glad you could make it for our start-of-term Feast."

"I'm glad I could make it, headmistress," Arthur replied as he removed his outdoor cloak and passed it to Percy. "It has been many years since I set foot in here, and it brings back wonderful memories." He glanced fondly at the paintings and statues as he, Percy and McGonagall made their way to the Great Hall.

"The older students have already been seated," McGonagall said. "The first-years will be gathered outside the main entrance in a few moments. If you follow me, I will lead us to the table. We have two extra seats prepared for you."

"Jolly good," Arthur replied absently, as if his mind were elsewhere. Percy managed a tight, nervous smile as they proceeded down the hall.

McGonagall led them to a small wood and iron door and started to pull it open.

"No, no," Percy said in a gentlemanly way. "I will do the honors, headmistress." He held the door open for McGonagall and Arthur, who walked through the door and up a large stair to the table. The other professors, including Sinistra, Snape, Hagrid, Flitwick and Sprout, were already standing at their spots. Arthur cast Snape a cool glare, which the potions master pointedly ignored.

The Sorting Hat and stool was placed in its usual spot several feet away from the dais. McGonagall went to the center chair and was followed closely by her two guests. She caressed the back of the wooden chair lightly, deep in thought for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she took her seat, and the other professors sat in their chairs. Percy took the empty seat to McGonagall's right. However, Arthur remained standing, his eyes fixed on the chair to the left of McGonagall.

"Minister," McGonagall called politely. "Won't you have a seat?"

"The table is full," Arthur replied curtly. His eyes were bulging in shock.

"Minister, there is a spot reserved for you, right here," McGonagall said, as she indicated the seat to her left.

Arthur shook his head, and his jaw started to twitch. "Which of you has done this?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Father?" Percy asked. "Are you all right? What do you mean?"

Arthur let out a soft moan. "Don't," he hissed. "Don't ... don't look at me like that! Why do you stare so? Stop looking at me like that!!!"

"Minister?" McGonagall called softly. She glanced around the table, but the other professors shrugged and looked incredulously at the minister, who was beginning to shake.

"Do you not see him?" Arthur asked, his voice beginning to rise. "Can you not see him, sitting there, as pale as a ghost, covered with blood ... you stare through to my heart ...."

"What's he staring at?" Sprout whispered.

"I don't know," Flitwick replied. "I wonder if the minister is well?"

"Father, please," Percy said uneasily. He and McGonagall looked at the students assembled, and there were whisperings throughout the room.

"The Minister will be all right presently," McGonagall said to the assembly. "He has had a long, exhausting trip here, and is just ... fatigued."

"He's prone to these spells," Percy threw in helpfully. He glanced nervously between the headmistress and his father.

McGonagall rose from her seat and took Arthur by the arm. "Sit down, Minister!" she said firmly.

"I can't, not with him sitting there, accusing me...." Arthur said, and he pointed to his seat.

"You look but on a stool," McGonagall protested. She was alarmed now.

"No," Arthur said, and he started waving his arms wildly. "Go! Go hence! Go back to where you came from, dark spirit! I can't help you! I can't undo it...." He blinked in surprise. "He's gone...."

"Who's gone, father?" Percy asked.

Arthur shook his head as if to clear it. "Never you mind," he said as he shakily took his seat.

McGonagall cast a worried look in Arthur's direction before turning to the students. "I believe we are ready now," she said with a quick glance at Arthur. "Bring in the first-years for the Sorting."

The doors to the Great Hall opened and dozens of young Hogwarts students filed in. Some looked excited, a few seemed terrified, and most were pensive to some degree. All of them looked in awe at the vast surroundings, the enchanted ceiling which showed a three-quarters moon in a starlit sky, the floating candles ... and, of course, the hat.

Professor Urania Sinistra, who was now the head of Gryffindor House and deputy headmistress, rose from her seat and started reading off the list of first-years.

"Aridatha, Marie," Sinistra called out. A tiny girl with a pale complexion and dark hair stepped forward hesitantly and sat on the stool. Sinistra placed the Sorting Hat on the child's head.

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat said after a few seconds of debate.

Marie Aridatha leapt off the stool, grinning, and joined her new classmates at the Ravenclaw table amidst a shower of applause.

"They are so young," Arthur said wistfully as the applause died down, and "Asta, Walby" was called. He turned to Percy and gave a sad half-smile. "It's hard to believe any of us were once that young and innocent."

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted.

"Alas, they may be young, but I doubt many of them are that innocent any more," McGonagall reflected as the applause again diminished. "You would be hard-pressed to find a member of this class who didn't lose at least one friend or family member during these dark years. I know at least three students are orphans."

"May we never see such dark times again, and may no child again be an orphan because of war," Arthur said.

"Well said, father," Percy exclaimed as the Sorting Hat placed "Bentley, Wanda" into "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Hagrid nodded in agreement, but McGonagall cast a long, sideways glance at the minister.

"Booth, Shannon," Sinistra started to read, but she was cut off by a blood-curdling yell.

"Father!" Percy called, and he rose to his feet.

Arthur was standing and pointing at the Sorting Hat, his eyes wide and staring.

"No!!!" Arthur screamed. "Leave me! Leave me alone! Quit my sight! Let the earth hide you! Your bones are marrowless, your blood is cold! There's no life in your eyes, you are dead, you are dead, stop glaring at me!"

"What's ailing 'im?" Hagrid asked, his beetle-black eyes wide.

"Minister!" McGonagall said, and she tried to get Arthur to sit down. "This is a rather poor way to behave as a guest at a Feast!" Shannon Booth, a tall, ruddy-faced lad with light brown hair, looked at the Minister, terrified.

"Did ... did I do something wrong?" the young boy asked, his voice quivering.

Arthur continued shouting as if he hadn't heard. "Begone, horrible shadow, you unreal mockery!"

"Father, this is quite enough," Percy said firmly, and he grabbed for Arthur's arm.

"You have displaced the humor, broke the good meeting, with most admired disorder," McGonagall said, her tone scathing.

But Arthur, who didn't even seem to notice them, started backing up in horror. "Can't you see? Can't you see him? He reaches a bloody hand to me, to take me with him! He is still there, he won't go, he won't leave me alone!"

Booth was whimpering in terror at this point, and he stepped away from the stool. Sinistra ran over to comfort the child. Snape stared at the minister with a calculating look, while the other professors and students buzzed like angry hornets over Arthur Weasley's strange behavior.

"Arthur, stop this nonsense at once!" McGonagall shouted. "If this is your idea of a joke, it is an exceedingly poor one. The boy is half-frightened out of his wits!"

There were tears streaming down Arthur's face, and he let out a moan. "I could have taken any vision but this ... go, go and haunt me no more, I can't change it, I can't change it, I CAN'T CHANGE!" With that, he bolted out of the Great Hall through the door he had come in, nearly falling over the step in his haste.

"Father!" Percy shouted, and he started after Arthur, but Snape restrained him. McGonagall and Flitwick flew after the crazed minister.

"I think we need to have a little chat," Snape said in a low voice. "Follow me."

Percy glanced over his shoulder as he followed Snape out another door opposite to the one the deputy minister had entered.

"What was that about?" Snape queried sharply as soon as they were a distance away.

Percy shook his head. "I swear to you, I don't know. This is entirely new to me, at least where father is concerned. Ginny, on the other hand, is prone to such outbursts. I...." Percy swallowed hard. "I didn't want to, but now ... I have to acknowledge that what you and McGonagall told me last month must have more than a bit of truth to it. I ... I hardly know him anymore, professor!"

"Yes, but you know him better than anyone now," Snape said, his tone urgent. "He still trusts you, where because of his paranoia, he suspects everyone else, even his once-close friends."

"I know all about his paranoia," Percy said bitterly. "I feel more and more I have to dance, beg, cajole, humor and prostate myself before him. It's degrading, what I must do to keep his trust! I feel like an actor in an increasingly perilous role"

"All the world's a stage, Percy," Snape said. "And we are merely players. Dance, beg, cajole, do pony tricks if you must, but we are depending on you to keep close to him, for no one else that we trust can!"

"I don't know how much longer I can hold it together," Percy said with a note of desperation in his voice. "If you are planning something, you must do it soon, for his madness grows daily. I fear soon he will cast me away, too! I still ... I still don't think he has entirely forgiven me for...." Percy looked away, red-faced.

"We have to act soon," Snape replied softly. "Far too much blood has been shed already. We already acted too late before, with Montague. Amos Diggory will make a mockery of the Wizengamot seat, he's the Minister's closest advisor now, save perhaps you. However, when Amelia Bones started getting those letters, she knew she couldn't risk staying on. Her stepping down was an unfortunate setback, but it has succeeded in sharpening our all-too blunted purpose."

"Yes, but if she knew the whereabouts of Potter and my brother," Percy said. "She grossly neglected her duty not telling the Ministry. Even if ... even if my father's logic is shaky...."

"I will not go into how badly Arthur Weasley has neglected things for his ambitions," Snape muttered, almost to himself. "But without going into detail, Potter and Weasley, obnoxious as they are, had nothing to do with your eldest brother's death. And Amelia Bones has no idea whatsoever as to their whereabouts. This is just another example of one of your father's manipulations!"

Percy started to say something, but changed his mind. "You probably have told me too much already," Percy said. "I want no further details in this matter. If my father were to use Legilimency on me, what you have already revealed could put you in danger. I know, of course, how to use Occulmency, but...."

Snape inhaled sharply and cut him off with an impatient wave of his hand. "He uses the legilimens spell on you?" he hissed. "Why haven't you told me this before?"

"I think, professor, the reason should be obvious," Percy retorted.

The silence in the next few seconds enveloped them.

"I ... I better go find father," Percy said at last. "I've been gone too long, he'll wonder where I've been...."

Snape nodded curtly without a word, and Percy turned and left, his heels marking a soft staccato on the stone floor.

"He is using Legilimency on his own son?" a low voice rumbled.

"How long have you been standing there, Hagrid?" Snape asked without turning around.

"Long enough," Hagrid spat out. "Someone ought to have a word with Arthur, that is just not...."

"No one will do anything of the kind," Snape said coldly. "As regrettable as it is, we are treading on very thin ice. We don't need any feet pounding holes through the already precarious surface."

"But Snape, that is an outrage!"

"Hagrid, go back inside and pretend you have heard nothing and act like everything is normal," Snape said. "You can do nothing, not now. Go back in."

Hagrid reluctantly turned and went back inside the Great Hall. Snape stared down the corridor, deep in thought, for several seconds before turning and following Hagrid.

* * * * *

"Who is it at the door, Widget?" Molly called from down the vast hallway.

"It's Miss Granger, mistress," Widget, a short, stout house elf replied.

"Hermione? Let her in, then, let her in!" Molly came bustling down the hall. Her expression was one of mixed happiness and anxiety.

"Oh, I'm already in," Hermione said as she appeared around the corner and went to embrace the older witch. "How is Ginny?" Hermione pulled away. "Is she any better?"

Molly shook her head, and a single tear splashed down her cheek. "No. If anything, she's worse. She's taken to sleepwalking now, and she rambles on and on constantly, mostly nonsense on her losing her father. She's sleeping now, and one of the St. Mungo's healers was here earlier, but every mediwizard we have brought in has been perplexed."

"Oh, Molly," Hermione whispered, and she hugged the older witch again. "I'm so sorry to hear this. How are you holding up? And how are Arthur and Percy?"

Molly snorted bitterly as she turned and started back down the marbled hallways, lined by great, arching pillars on either side. "I'm ... I'm coping. The healers and assistants have been wonderful about providing for Ginny, it's just not knowing what ails my child that eats at me. As for Arthur and Percy," Molly ran a hand through her graying red hair, and she suddenly looked tired. "They are hardly ever here, and I don't know whether I'm disappointed, angry ... or relieved."

"Relieved?" Hermione asked, puzzled. "What do you mean? Is everything all right?"

Molly folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes. "They have both changed so much. Percy has become a frightened shadow of his former self. He hardly speaks anymore, save to give saccharine praise or utter empty words of devotion. And Arthur...." She gave a shaky sigh, opened her eyes and turned to Hermione. "He's almost a stranger now. It's as if a dark shadow has fallen over him, distorting him so completely that I barely recognize him. He won't even see Tristan, and those two were inseparable before! Arthur loved his grandbaby, and now he won't even go and kiss him goodnight! Then there is that incident at Hogwarts a few days ago, I can't even begin to understand that, and he won't talk to me. He told me rather bluntly that he was well, and he had just been tired that day. Arthur then walked away, and refused to say another word. And I didn't dare bring it up again. I'm ... I'm almost ... afraid of him. Afraid, of my own husband. If someone would have told me that would be possible a year ago, I would have laughed. That, or upbraided them for saying such a thing, depending on my mood." She gave a shaky laugh.

Hermione lay a hand on Molly's shoulder, and they stood in silent commiseration for several moments.

"Have... have you heard anything from Ron or Harry?" Hermione asked after looking around the vast, silent halls.

Molly shook her head. "No, and part of me is angry, but mostly I'm worried and wondering if they're all right. I take solace that, in these upside down times, the fact that they haven't been seen or heard from, and the papers keep trumpeting about the search for them, probably means they're safe. It's the one thing I can hold onto. I don't know why Arthur suspect Ron and Harry, of all people, in Bill's murder. It's ... it's insanity!"

"I don't know, Molly," Hermione said. "I can't ... what on earth?"

Straight ahead of them was a cylindrical-shaped sunroom, with the walls and domed roof made entirely of glass. The door through the sunroom led to a lush flower garden, filled with white and red roses, lilies, fluttering butterfly bush, and shimmering starflowers. Golden Midas vines wrapped around ornate wrought-iron fencing. In the center of the garden, there was a fountain statue of four griffins seated in circle, with a stream of water cascading from the center and out of the griffin's mouths into a shallow basin shaped into a bowl, with marble roses and vines decorating the edge. Near the fountain stood a pale, slim figure in a billowy white nightdress. Her brilliant red hair cascaded down her back and rippled in the night breeze. The full moon illuminated her in an eerie glow, making her appear almost as a ghost.

Molly swore under her breath. "Sweet Merlin, it's Ginny! But how did she get out?"

Hermione and Molly ran to the glass door and flung it open. They ran over to where Ginny stood. The young witch didn't seem to hear them; she kept staring at her reflection into the fountain, which was rippled and distorted by the falling water.

"Ginny? Darling?" Molly said in a soft voice. "How did you get out here?"

Ginny made no response. Hermione shivered as she gazed into the young witch's vacant, emotionless brown eyes.

"Ginny?" Molly tried again. "We should go inside, you'll catch your death out here in that nightdress...."

"Father...." Ginny whispered softly.

Molly stifled a groan. "Father isn't here right now, luv. He'll ... he'll be home soon."

"I lost him," Ginny whispered. "I lost my father. He's gone now."

Molly and Hermione stared at each other helplessly. Suddenly, Ginny kneeled at the fountain and placed her hands into the rippling waters. Hermione watched, open-mouthed as Ginny began rubbing her hands together.

"Has ... has she done this before?" Hermione queried.

Molly nodded her head. "For the past few weeks. It is an accustomed action with her. I have known her to continue in this a quarter of an hour."

"Yet here's a spot," Ginny said, her voice almost a sigh.

"And now it starts again," Molly whispered, and her eyes glistened.

"Perhaps we should listen to what she says," Hermione said. "It might provide some clue to her malady."

Molly gave a jerky shrug of resignation. "If you can piece together her ramblings into some coherent sense, you will have my eternal gratitude."

"Out, damned spot! Out, I say!" Ginny shouted. Then her voice changed, from shrill and sharp to cold, calculating. "Dumbledore is not immortal." Then her voice rose again to a shout. "Justice for Charlie, Fred and George!" Then softer, almost a whisper. "I've already lined the cup with it ...." She sighed and stared at her reflection. "This was the beginning, wasn't it? The beginning and the end, beginning and end, end and beginning, beginning, end, end, beginning and on and on and on and on...." She gave a strange giggle that ended in a sigh, and it made the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stand on end, and Molly turned white.

"Merlin's beard!" Molly whispered. "You don't suppose ... no, no, it's not possible!"

"Shh!" Hermione warned. "She's speaking again."

Ginny was looking at her hands, and she gave a heart-breaking sigh. "What, will these hands never be clean?" She let her hands fall back into the water. "He suspects us, doesn't he? Bill, don't you love us? Please, please try to understand!"

Molly groaned. "She misses Bill so much," she said softly, and she wiped her eyes.

Hermione, however, was beginning to wonder if something more sinister lay beneath the mad ramblings than just the loss of the oldest Weasley son.

Ginny held her hands near her face and wept. "Here's the smell of blood still! All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Ohhhhh!" She flopped over onto the ground and wailed.

"Oh, Ginny!" Molly sobbed out, and she ran over and cradled the young woman in her arms.

"Molly!" another voice thundered out. Hermione and Molly turned to see Arthur at the doorway, a mixture of surprise and anger on his face. "What in blazes is Ginny doing out here?"

"She was sleepwalking again," Molly said brusquely.

"Sleepwalking?" Arthur said, his anger vanishing. "When did she start that?"

"She's been doing this for some time now," Molly replied, her voice rising. "As you would know if you were ever here!"

"Woman, I have been rather busy of late!" Arthur snarled. "I have been working all hours, performing my duties in the top position at the ministry, and putting the roof of this estate over your head...."

"I never wanted all this!" Molly shot back. "I never wanted this! This monstrosity was your idea! I want my family! I want you!"

"How can you be so ungrateful!" Arthur spat, and his face turned crimson. "After all I have done...?"

"SHE HAS BEEN CALLING FOR YOU!" Molly shouted. "She has been calling for you constantly, she thinks she has lost you! And you haven't been here! You are never here!" Molly broke down and started weeping, and she cradled an unresponsive Ginny even closer. Hermione folded her arms over her chest and glared at Arthur.

Arthur's anger faded again. "She has?" he asked, his voice hollow. "Has she ... has she really?"

Molly managed to choke out a "yes" before loosening her grip on Ginny. Arthur jogged over to them and knelt on the soft grass.

"Ginny," Molly said as she removed a long strand of hair from the girl's white face. "Your father's here now. He's right here, baby."

"Father...." Ginny whispered, and she looked up.

"Ye... Yes, Ginny, I'm here," Arthur said. He took a deep breath and fought back against the tears that wanted to fall. Molly gently released Ginny and stood up.

"Where is my father?" Ginny said, her voice plaintive. "Where is he?"

"Ginny!" Arthur pleaded as he put an arm around his daughter. "I'm here, child, I'm right here." He took one of her slim, white hands. "Look at me, I'm right here...." He recoiled a bit when Ginny's eyes locked into his own. They were lifeless, hollow.... Arthur suddenly felt a cold chill as he gazed into the vacant eyes of his youngest child.

"I have lost my father," Ginny continued, and she began to weep again.

"No, Ginny, don't say that," Arthur begged. He gently took her face into his hands. "You are breaking my heart! Please...."

"I have lost him," Ginny said, and the tears cascaded down her pale cheeks. "I've lost him, and it's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault...."

Arthur shook his head, and this time, he could not hold back his tears. "No, oh no, oh dear god!" He clutched his child to him and wept openly. "What have I done to you? Oh, what have I done?" Molly was sobbing quietly.

"Arthur?" Hermione whispered. She wiped a hand across her own eyes. "Arthur, we should go in. The air is getting chilly...."

Arthur said nothing in response, but gently scooped Ginny into his arms and cradled her like an infant.

"Father ...." Ginny whispered. "I miss my father...." She closed her eyes, and her head fell on her shoulder.

Arthur let out a shuddering sob as he carried his daughter back inside.

"Well, now he knows," Molly said as she blotted her swollen eyes. "Maybe ... maybe now he'll realize...."

"I hope so," Hermione said idly. Her mind was turning over what she had heard Ginny say, and was thinking a quick owl to McGonagall was in order. "Can I do anything for you, Molly? If not, I better go. It's getting late."

Molly shook her head. "Thank you for stopping by. It was nice having someone other than the healers to talk to."

"All right," the younger witch replied. "I'll stop back as soon as I can."

Molly nodded and waved goodbye as Hermione let herself out at the gate. The older witch then headed back inside.

Hermione, meanwhile, broke into a sprint as soon as she was out of sight from the Weasley Estate.

* * * * *

Arthur flew down to the main door and flung it open. Amos Diggory, who had been knocking for several minutes, looked nonplussed as Arthur glared at him.

"Diggory!" Arthur snapped. "What do you want at this hour?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Arthur," Diggory said quietly. "But I have some urgent news I'm sure you will ... Arthur? Are you all right?"

"It can wait," Arthur growled. "It can wait until tomorrow. No, I'm not all right. I've just found out that my daughter is more seriously ill than I knew, and I have to tend to my family right now. So whatever you have to tell me, it can wait. Goodni...." He started to close the door.

"It's about Malfoy," Diggory said hastily. The door stopped. "The Wizengamot voted this evening. I was here an hour ago, but no one responded to my knocking, so I decided to leave and come back."

Arthur flung the door open. "Come in," he said wearily. Diggory stepped through the entrance and removed a scrap of foolscap from his cloak pocket. "So what was the vote?"

"I'm ... I'm sorry," Diggory said as he handed the foolscap to Arthur. "I did everything I could to persuade them."

"It lost," Arthur muttered as he looked at the sheet in his hand.

"I'm sorry," Diggory continued. "I tried my best, but not enough would listen...."

"It's all right," Arthur said, and he patted Diggory on the shoulder. "I couldn't have asked more of you. It's just that we have some stuffed shirts on the Wizengamot who have forgotten what their purpose is. I, to be honest, expected this result and planned for it. So now, we are forced to go to plan 'B.'"

"Plan B?" Diggory's eyebrows shot up.

Arthur smiled cruelly. "Yes, in three days time, we take matters into our own hands and deliver our own brand of justice to the Malfoy family." He stared coolly at Diggory, whose own smile reflected that of the minister's.

"I understand," Diggory said.

"I knew you would. Gather the 12 most trusted and reliable people we have," Arthur said. "Tomorrow evening, we meet in my office and we begin to make preparations on dealing with the Malfoy problem."

* * * * *

Narcissa Malfoy entered the parlor and sat wearily on the couch, not even caring about the dirt and grime that came off her robes onto the ordinarily spotless cushions. She wiped a slim hand across her dirty, sweaty face and sighed.

"Tea, mistress?" called a tentative voice from the entrance. Poppet, a young, tiny house elf stared at the witch with her large brown eyes.

"Cold," Narcissa replied with a curt nod. "Lots of ice. And only one small spoonful of sugar this time. I don't want it too sweet."

Poppet disappeared, and within seconds reappeared with a tall glass. She handed the glass to Narcissa, who took a deep drink, then took one of the ice cubes and sucked on it contentedly, savoring its cold comfort in her hot, parched mouth.

The parlor, thanks to Poppet, was still clean and well-tended (excepting the patches of fresh dirt on the couch, which would be taken care of later.) However, much of its grandeur had been diminished in many small ways. Two months without paying work, coupled with their large court fine, had a way of draining the wealthiest bank vault. Two chairs, a small table and a large painting from this room had been sold to keep the bill collectors away. A bare hook hung over Narcissa's head where the painting had once been, and one other chair remained besides the sofa for guests who came to visit. Not that they had many guests nowadays, save the occasional Ministry underling or aforementioned bill collector.

Suddenly, Narcissa heard the main door open and close quietly.

"Draco, luv?" Narcissa called out. "Is that you?"

"Yes, mother," came the tired response as Draco walked into the parlor.

"You are home late today," Narcissa said as she turned to her son. She gasped as she saw Draco's face. "Merlin, not again! What happened to you this time? Your eye! Who did this?" The witch rose to her feet and strode over to Draco. "Poppet! Get ice, quickly! And bandages!"

"It's ... it's all right, mother," Draco said wearily. "It will heal, nothing's broken this time. I just had ... a little trouble with some of the others, nothing more than usual. Except this time, I just couldn't take their insults against us, and I ... I managed to hex a couple, but I was outnumbered."

"Oh, Draco," Narcissa said with a small moan. "My poor darling!" She led him over to the couch, where Poppet waited with a bag of ice, a bowl of water and some clean rags.

"The supervisor, of course, sided with them," Draco said bitterly as Narcissa dipped a rag into the water and tenderly cleaned his bloodied, bruised face. "He threatened me with another month of this forced labor on top of what I already have to do, never mind the fact that Marcus Flint started it, and he's in there same as I."

"I hope your father comes home to us soon," Narcissa said, and a tear slid down her aristocratic cheek.

Draco snorted. "Sometimes, I think father is lucky to be in Azkaban."

"Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed, shocked. "What a thing to say! Those Dementors...."

"I know," Draco said impatiently. "But this is not much better." He held up his grimy hands. "Look at us, mother! We have become nothing but common dregs! Servants! Little better than bloody house elves!"

"I wish your father was here," Narcissa said as she placed the bag of ice near Draco's swollen eye. "I just ... I just want to leave this place. Leave everything behind us, pick up and start someplace new."

"What?" Draco asked, incredulous. "Are you insane? Everything we own, everything of value is here! What about the paintings? The furniture? The manor itself? What about...."

"Not everything of value is here," Narcissa said, and she fixed her son a rare, disapproving glare. "Your father is not here."

Draco flushed and looked down.

"Furniture can be replaced, money regained," Narcissa continued. "But I want to move, to leave these horrible years behind us, to start anew. Just our family, a cozy house and Poppet. Go somewhere where we don't get cursed at or spit at because of our name, somewhere where we don't have to fear for our safety every time we set foot outdoors. Somewhere where we can be free of what has come before."

"Maybe you are right," Draco acknowledged reluctantly. "I have to admit, I get tired sometimes of being someone's punching bag." He gave a mirthless laugh.

"But we need to wait until Lucius gets home," Narcissa said. "He'll know how to plan such things for our departure. Curse the Ministry! He should have been home yesterday, or this morning at the very latest! There would be a delay. Most likely Minister Weasley's doing." She said the minister's name as if it were poison.

Poppet suddenly appeared before them, her eyes wide with terror.

"What is it, house elf?" Draco queried impatiently. "We had better not be out of cream and butter again, or else...."

"Lucius?" Narcissa asked, her eyes coming alive.

"No!" squeaked the house elf. "No! The ... the minister! I saw him ... and others .... He's coming!"

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Draco muttered, and he scowled.

Narcissa's expression mirrored her son's. "What does he want?"

WHAM! The Malfoys heard the main door fly open and slam into the wall behind it.

Narcissa's jaw dropped in outrage. "Of all the...." She stormed out of the parlor and headed towards the entrance, where she saw Arthur, flanked on either side by Diggory and Doge.

"Minister," Narcissa greeted icily. "I would thank you to knock next time, instead of practically taking the door off its hinges like a common brute!"

"Good afternoon to you too, Mrs. Malfoy," Arthur returned with a cool smile. "Your hospitality is as warm as ever, I see." Arthur cocked his head, and his grin widened. "Is that a spot of dirt on your cheek, right there? And oh, dear, you seem to have something on your robes...."

Narcissa gave an offended squeak and impatiently brushed the side of her face. Draco stepped forward, his eyes flashing.

"What do you want here?" Draco snarled. "We've been complying with the Ministry's infernal restrictions, so what is it? State your business here and leave. You are not welcome here and never will be, Weasley."

Arthur pursed his mouth and his eyebrows shot up. "My, my, haven't you been taught any manners, young pup? Not surprising, given the one who whelped you...."

"How dare you," Narcissa hissed, infuriated. She took two steps towards Arthur. "You barge into my house, then insult me to my face in such a manner. You have no right to criticize me, you Muggle-loving blood-traitor! You stinking piece of filth, you coward, you.... "

Arthur coolly backhanded her, and the sound of his hand striking her face echoed in the vast interior. Narcissa sank to her knees, stunned.

Draco lurched forward, incensed, but before he could do anything, Arthur, Diggory and Doge went flying backwards several feet into the air. They landed in a painful heap near the doorway.

Poppet suddenly appeared in front of the Malfoys, her arms outstretched, her eyes burning with a cold fury.

"You will not touch my mistress or my master," she shrieked. "You will not touch my fam...."

"Stupify!" Roared another voice from the right stairway leading to the second level of the Manor. Poppet crumpled to the floor as about a dozen wizards removed invisibility cloaks and appeared on both sets of staircases. Narcissa shrieked in terror.

"Forgot about the bloody house elf," Arthur muttered as he and the others picked themselves up off of the ground.

Draco paled. "Wha ... what is the meaning of this?" he whispered. "I tell you, we have met every mandate so far the Ministry has asked. We have not associated with former Death Eaters, save when we are forced to in our work assignments. We have been on time and our wardens have had no complaints about our work." He groped for his wand, which was concealed underneath his robes. "Why do you do this? What have we done?"

"You exist," Arthur said, his eyes gleaming strangely. "You and your cursed line live, and that is hateful and criminal enough." He and the other wizards closed around the two trembling Malfoys. "You should have been exterminated long ago, like the vermin you are." He gave a cold, harsh laugh. "But, better late than never, I suppose."

"You don't mean to murder us?" Narcissa croaked out.

Arthur laughed again, and several of the wizards joined him.

"Come now," he said almost jovially. "You can't call doing away with pestilence 'murder,' can you now?"

The Malfoys were completely encircled by their aggressors, who were leering and threatening them with their wands.

"I will enjoy this," Arthur said with a cruel chuckle. "My one regret is that an unfortunate paper mishap delayed your husband's return. Pity, that!" He pointed his wand threateningly at the Malfoys. "But I will take care of the head of the household later. All in good time...."

Draco made a sudden, desperate lunge at the minister and he managed to knock the wand out of Arthur's hands. Unshaken, Arthur withdrew a knife from the folds of his cloak and stabbed the young wizard through the heart.

"Young fry of treachery!" Arthur hissed.

Draco gasped and fell to his knees.

"Mother...." He gasped out. "Mother...."

"NOOOOO!" Narcissa screamed as she cradled her only child in her arms. "No, no, oh pleasenopleasenopleaseno....."

"Mother...." Draco whispered one last time before closing his eyes and falling still.

Narcissa closed her eyes and opened her mouth into a silent scream as Arthur crept up behind her. With a sudden movement, Arthur grabbed Narcissa's head and shoulder and made a sudden, jerking motion. There was an audible "snap," and Narcissa's sobs were silenced. Narcissa crumbled to the ground, still clutching her son. Several of the wizards in the circle winced, and a few exchanged nervous looks.

Arthur straightened up, a gleam of savage, almost bestial, triumph in his eyes.

"I want this place destroyed, all of it," Arthur said. "Every last inch of it, nothing shall remain standing. I want every trace of the Malfoys expunged from existence."

"What of the house elf?" Diggory asked.

Arthur looked with loathing at the little creature lying only a few feet away from her now-deceased owners.

"It served the Malfoys," He said coldly. "It has been tainted by their presence. Kill it."

"Now, Arthur," Doge said. "Minister, it was only doing what it was trained to do. House elves have to protect their families, they have no choice but to do as they are told. We can take it back to the Ministry and assign it a new house...."

"It was under the same roof with them," Arthur hissed, and he rounded on Doge. "Dispose of it."

"But Arthur...."

"That was an order, Doge," Arthur said in a dangerous tone. "I will not ask again."

"Yes, Minister," Doge said with extreme reluctance, and he gingerly picked up the house elf as Arthur turned to the others.

"Diggory, you take your team upstairs and set up the accelerants," Arthur ordered. "The rest will follow me and we will prepare the downstairs. Meet back down here in five minutes."

Diggory smiled and gestured to the five wizards closest to him, and they jogged up the left staircase. The last one started pointing his wand at the floor, and sticks and straw in piles up to an inch deep started to appear on the once-clean marble. Arthur and the wizards with him scattered and started doing the same thing, going from room to room like a well-drilled army for destruction.

"Doge!" Arthur barked out.

"Yes, minister?" Doge replied as he appeared before Arthur.

"Did you do as I asked?"

"Yes. Also, the east wing of the house is taken care of. Podmore and I covered everything with straw and wax."

Arthur nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Let's head out, then, five minutes is about up."

The minister headed outside, and was soon followed by the others. He turned and looked at the large estate of the Malfoy family, which stood as a smug reminder of that family's treacheries to Arthur Weasley. But soon, the dark brick with marble inlay, the rich wood trim, the mullioned windows with their intricate patterns, would be no more....

"On my count," Arthur said as the wizards stood in a line facing the house. "One... two .... THREE!"

As one unit, the wizards pointed their wands at the manor, and a steady, intense burst of fire came from the end of each wand. The force of the spell shattered the many windows, sending the flames to the interior. In less than five minutes, smoke and flames were pouring from the windows, and the wizards had to step back because of the intense heat.

"Shall we...?" Diggory started to ask.

"No," Arthur said calmly. "I want to savor this moment, etch it in my mind forever. I have waited for many years to see the downfall of the Malfoys, and this has exceeded my wildest dreams. Just a moment more...."

The wizards stood silently for several moments, watching as the Manor blazed unabatedly, before Arthur spoke again.

"Right, then," Arthur said, in a business-like manner. "Let's finish it. Again, on my mark ... one ... two... THREE!"

Again as one, the wizards pointed their wands, this time at the ground several feet from them. The earth trembled under their feet, and deep cracks started to form around the grounds of the manor.

"Let's move," Arthur said. "Quickly!"

The wizards Summoned their brooms, mounted and took to the air as the ground opened up and swallowed the fiery mansion.

And that was the end of Malfoy Manor.

End of Act III

ACT IV

Harry was settled on the couch and was flipping through one of Remus Lupin's old photo albums. Occasionally, he would chuckle as his father, Sirius, Remus and Pettigrew would do something funny such as give each other bunny ears or make faces at him. He grinned as he flipped a page and came across one of his favorite photos: a picture of his mother smiling in satisfaction as she held James Potter firmly by the ear. His father looked at Harry and gave a sheepish grin and shrugged. Lupin had told Harry that Lily had just caught his father trying to skiv off a Muggle Studies class to go outside and practice his broom skills. Oh, was Lily mad at him, Lupin had related with a laugh!

"She said to him that if he had any hope of dating her, he better attend classes, especially that class, where he might learn something about her background, since she came from a Muggle family herself," Lupin had said, and he grinned at the memory.

Harry turned a couple more pages.

"Say," Harry said to Ron, who was seated cross-legged on the recliner. "Did you see this graduation picture?"

"Yeah," Ron said morosely. He clutched a copy of yesterday's "The Daily Prophet" in his hand, and it was obvious that is mind was not into distant reminiscing, but preoccupied with the immediate past. Harry looked sorrowfully at Ron for a moment, then continued flipping through the photo album in silence.

Their past few weeks cloistered at Lupin's tiny apartment hadn't been quite as bad as Harry might have believed. True, they had to put up with Snape for about four weeks, but thankfully he took the attitude of trying to ignore them all together, and while there was always tension, fights were few. Harry suspected it was because Snape was busy brewing up ample quantities of the Draught of Peace, which Lupin insisted everyone take in copious quantities.

Harry fought boredom by looking through Lupin's numerous photo albums and Ron ... well, Ron was too worried about his family to say or do much of anything.

Harry had only turned a couple more pages when the door to the apartment flew open, and Lupin ran in, flushed and out of breath, with the day's post and newspaper ... and an expression on his face that meant something big had happened.

"Lupin?" Harry asked. "What...?"

Lupin shut the door and threw down the post and newspaper on the coffee table. "Look at that top bit of parchment paper," he said urgently as he pointed to the stack of letters from the post.

Harry picked up the small slip of paper, which was folded in two, and opened it. From the center of the paper came a burst of heatless flame and the figure of a phoenix rising from the center of the fire.

Harry looked up sharply.

"We have to leave here immediately," Lupin said as he checked the fasteners of his cloak and Summoned his broom. "We have a long flight ahead of us, and the meeting is tonight."

"Where are we meeting?" Ron asked as he and Harry Summoned their cloaks and brooms.

Lupin gave a bitter half smile. "Hogs Head, in Hogsmeade. Appropriate. It was once the site for plotting and planning for the goblins, so why not us?"

"Wonder what finally prompted this?" Harry wondered out loud.

"I suspect the reason is on the front page of today's 'Prophet,'" Lupin explained.

Harry picked up the newspaper and scanned the headline of the top story and the first few paragraphs:

The Daily Prophet

September 7, 2003

Wife, son of imprisoned Death Eater presumed dead. Ministry suspects a Death Eater attack, investigation started

By Rita Skeeter

Reporter

The Ministry of Magic confirmed the destruction of Malfoy Manor, which was believed to have occurred sometime yesterday evening. Narcissa Malfoy and son Draco have not been found and are presumed dead.

Narcissa Malfoy is the wife of Lucius Malfoy, who served time in Azkaban in connection with his activities as an accused Death Eater. He was to have been released yesterday but a last-minute technical problem postponed Malfoy's release. He's due to be released today.

The Malfoys are one of the oldest and wealthiest wizarding families in Europe, said Arthur Weasley, minister of magic.

"Anyone who knows me and knows the Malfoys knows that there has been a feud between our two families dating back to Tudor times," the minister said. "However, this is a frightening development, that Death Eaters still roam at large. Who else could have launched such an attack? And why? Revenge, plain and simple. As I said, there is no love between the Malfoys and the Weasleys, but I assure you there will be a full investigation for the safety of everyone...."

Harry looked up at Lupin, stunned.

"Malfoy Manor is ... gone?" Harry asked incredulously as he handed the paper to Ron.

Lupin nodded sadly. "Also, I don't think I need to say that a lot of people are skeptical of the minister's claims that this was a Death Eater attack. It's too convenient, too easy."

"Unbelievable," Ron whispered as he scanned the paper. He threw the paper down on the table with some force and ran a hand through his hair.

"We'll make one stop in Leek for refreshment," Lupin said briskly. "But we must fly as quickly as we can. We can afford no other break. Let's go!"

The three wizards left the safety of the flat and started their journey to Hogsmeade.

* * * * *

A lone figure walked on a wide dirt path in the rural countryside near Spaulding. He wore a full-length black cloak, which looked gray due to the dust on the road. His hood partially covered his face, sheltering him from the afternoon sun and from curious onlookers. Not that there was anyone else on the road ... wait.

The man's sharp ears pricked up as he heard the rumbling sounds of a horse and buggy heading his way. He withdrew a wand from the folds of his cloak and went to the side of the road. Soon, the horse and tram came into view. It carried a young couple, obviously very much in love. He held the reins in one hand, and had his arm wrapped lovingly around his sweetheart, who was snuggled against him. The solitary figure watched dispassionately as they drove by without even glancing in his direction.

Love. Lucius Malfoy had almost forgotten what it was like to feel love. His imprisonment may have been two months, but it felt like an agonizing two years, an eternity of being trapped inside his own head, confronted with his worst memories in an endless stream. The memory of his mother's death to a muscle-wasting disorder that had baffled the most experienced healers. Remembering the times when the Death Eaters had gone to the estate of some of his former friends, and he would see the brilliant green Mark above their home. Remembering the death of his own father in the hands of the Dark Lord, because He Who Still Could Not Be Named believed him a traitor....

No! No more. He had done enough thinking on this during his imprisonment, and his long walk home. Malfoy was not given a broom, and he was too drained still to apparate, or do any magic for that matter save for basic charms. He had been dropped off at the outskirts of Spaulding and told brusquely he could walk the rest of the way. Malfoy didn't have money - wizarding or Muggle - for a cab (not that he would have consented to Muggle transportation), and it was only five miles, so he did not protest as the driver pulled away in a cloud of dust.

Malfoy shook his head as if to clear it, and thought instead of home.

Home. The wizard continued to walk until he reached a crossroads. For the first time in two months, he smiled. Fife Street. He turned right and walked, his pace more brisk now that he was only half a mile away from home. Malfoy looked eagerly at the hill where the Manor had been built, and his step faltered.

Where was it? He thought, confused. Surely, he should be able to see it by now; had the trees around the property grown that much? He lengthened his strides, a kernel of fear starting to eat at his heart.

"Master?"

Lucius halted and turned his head in the direction of the soft, squeaky voice.

"Poppet?" Lucius said in surprise, and not a little anger. "What are you doing here, house elf, so far from the Manor?"

"I..." squeaked Poppet. "I came to find you." She was shivering all over, and her eyes were bulging out of her head.

"Narcissa sent you, then," Lucius replied, his anger dissipating somewhat. "Is this correct?"

Poppet didn't reply. She looked away, and she started shaking even more.

"Master," Poppet said, and two large tears splashed down her face. "Master ... I ... I couldn't stop them."

"Stop what?" Lucius said, and he grabbed Poppet and savagely shook her. "Has something happened? Out with it! Keep it not from me, let me have it!"

"They're gone," the miserable house elf choked out between sobs. "I am sorry, Master Lucius, I couldn't stop them."

"What?" Lucius said, and he let Poppet go. His face blanched.

"The manor was surprised," Poppet sobbed. "The mistress and young master were savagely slaughtered."

Lucius broke into a run, with the weeping house elf close behind him. He had not even realized he had apparated until he found himself on his knees, drained, near the place where the front door should have been. He looked at the chasm in the ground, which had once been his home, and moaned.

"Gone," he croaked. "All gone. My wife, my child, everything." He uttered a strangled cry in his grief. "Who did this? Who committed this treacherous act?"

"It was the minister," Poppet squeaked. "He came with many others and ... he killed mistress and the young master. He wanted to kill me, too, but another wizard let me go, and said I needed to run and hide before I was found."

"I cannot but remember such things were that were most precious to me," Lucius whispered, as he scooped a handful of soil into his palm. "They were struck down because of me. Naught that I am, not for their own demerits, but for mine, full slaughter on their souls. He wanted revenge on me." His voice trailed off, and his head dropped into his other hand.

"What are we going to do now?" Poppet squeaked. "Where are we going to go?"

Lucius did not reply for several moments. Then he rose to his feet and tossed the handful of dirt into the gaping hole and looked skyward.

"Oh heavens," he swore. "Cut short all intermission, front to front bring you this fiend and myself within a wand's distance from me. If he escape, heaven forgive him, too!"

"Master?" the house elf whispered in fear.

But Lucius seemed to forget Poppet was even there.

"By Merlin, Cliodne and all those who came before us," Lucius whispered, and his eyes glittered angrily. He took his wand and made a slashing motion across his right palm. He clenched his fist, and blood trickled, drop by drop, from his hand to the earth below. "By my blood and by the blood of my forefathers, you will pay, Weasley. You will pay dearly, even if it means my own life, for I have lost everything and have nothing more to lose. You will rue this day, Weasley. Your destruction has become my life's goal."

"M .. Master?" Poppet said. She was beginning to shake again.

Lucius did not acknowledge her. He turned on his heel and started down the path away from what used to be his Manor, never once looking back.

* * * * *

The Hogs Head was unusually quiet that night, but that suited three wizards, who were seated in the far corner nearly covered in shadow, quite well. A fourth, dressed in tartan robes, approached the table.

"Are we all here, yet?" McGonagall said in a low voice as she took her seat.

"Not quite," Snape said, and his lip curled. "Potter, Weasley and Lupin would insist on being late."

"Come on, Snape," Tonks scolded gently. "They also have the farthest to come."

"Here they are," said Amelia Bones, and she pointed toward the door.

Remus, Harry and Ron walked swiftly over to the table and sat down.

"About time," Snape grumbled.

"How was your trip?" McGonagall asked after casting Snape a withering glare. "Did everything go smoothly?"

Lupin nodded. "We encountered no difficulties."

"Other than nearly being frozen to our brooms," Harry quipped, and he gave a small shiver.

"Aberforth!" Amelia called out to the bartender. "Another round of butterbeers, and give them two," she pointed at Harry, Ron and Lupin.

"I've already made arrangements for you three to stay at the Three Broomsticks overnight," McGonagall said crisply.

"Thank you, Minerva," Lupin said. "That is most appreciated."

Aberforth shuffled over to the table with a large tray of butterbeer bottles. Harry gratefully picked a bottle and took a deep pull, feeling the liquid warm his frozen insides.

"Now that we are all here...." Snape started to say.

"Except Dung," Tonks blurted. "Where's he at?"

"Knowing him, he's probably found a black market value for Ashwinder eggs or cracked cauldrons that he couldn't pass up," said Amelia dryly.

"He's too unreliable," McGonagall stated firmly. "Let's get to the matter at hand."

"Yes," Harry said. "What are we going to do?"

"We don't know," Amelia said. "That is one of the things we have to decide on."

"I think it is pretty plain," Snape said. "We won't be able to reason with Arthur Weasley. All but his closest associates are terrified of him. Doge confirmed it for me before he went into hiding: Arthur was behind the destruction of Malfoy Manor, and Narcissa and Draco are both dead. He also told me that there are only a handful of people loyal to Weasley, Diggory and Podmore chief among them. Most serve him now because they fear for their lives and their families if they don't."

"The minister will resist any attempt to apprehend him," McGonagall said. "We will also have to go down there, to his place of power, to arrest him. That will not be easy, the place will be swarming with ministry officials. Could we rely on Doge to recruit those in the Ministry who are angered by Arthur Weasley's actions?"

Snape nodded. "He volunteered to do just that. I feel we can depend on him, for what he saw at Malfoy Manor shook him up considerably. I also think that if we go in with enough force, those within the Ministry wall won't put up much of a fight, not if half I heard is true."

"But we are going on a lot of 'what ifs' and 'should bes'" Lupin remarked. "If everything else fails, what do we have right now? That we are 100 percent certain on?"

"Not a lot," McGonagall confessed. "A lot of this is hinging on possible outcomes and hopeful expectations, I agree. But we have little choice. We must do something, and soon. Each day that goes by imperils our world more."

"Out of curiosity," Ron spoke up. "Why are we meeting here, instead of in Hogwarts? Wouldn't it be safer...?"

McGonagall shook her head. "The walls have ears. At the least, there are paintings with duplicates at the Ministry, and I can't entirely trust all of them not to tell tales out of school. This isn't the safest place, either, but it's safer than the school, trust me. Now, does anyone have any ideas?" She brought out a scroll and unrolled it on the table. It was a map of the interior of the Ministry building.

"I still say that it would be a whole lot easier and quicker if we went in there and disposed of him," Snape said, and his brow furrowed.

Ron turned chalk white and started to rise to his feet. Harry quickly placed a restraining hand on Ron's shoulder, but not before giving the potions master a glacial look.

"No, Severus," McGonagall said sharply. "If at all possible, we must follow the laws in this, or else things could become worse than they are."

"So what laws are we applying, exactly?" Remus asked. "I mean, for the justification in us non-aurors arresting the minister of magic?"

Amelia snorted. "Would you like the list alphabetically, numerically or chronologically?" she quipped.

"I see," Lupin replied with a tight smile. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

Severus, meanwhile, was studying the map. "This main entrance will almost certainly be guarded by someone who is still loyal to the Minister."

"I still have the key to the entrance to the Wizengamot offices, directly into Courtroom 10," Amelia offered.

"Those locks almost certainly have been changed, Amelia," McGonagall said as she, too, looked at the map for answers.

"They can be changed back," Amelia said, and she gave a nasty smile. "I know how the magic works."

"But that could raise an alarm," Harry pointed out.

Amelia nodded. "That is almost a certainty. Which means that once we were inside, we would have to hurry, wouldn't we?"

Snape suddenly looked up, a cool, calculating look in his beady black eyes. He studied Harry and Ron as if they were particularly interesting specimens in his lab.

"Bait," he said softly.

"Beg your pardon?" McGonagall asked.

"Messrs. Potter and Weasley are still wanted for 'questioning' by the ministry," Snape explained. "If they were to be brought in through the main entrance, under the guise of being captured...."

"It could create enough of a diversion for the rest of us," Tonks concluded. "Bloody brilliant, Snape!"

"Are you volunteering, then, to escort Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall asked.

"What???" Snape exclaimed, his beady eyes bulging. "I never meant...."

"One other should go," Remus said quietly. "I'll join you."

Snape's scowl deepened.

"What good will you do, Lupin?" Snape spat out.

"You are not the only one capable of wielding a wand, Severus," Lupin replied with a small smile.

"Five is a lucky number," Tonks spoke up suddenly. "I'll go, too."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. Me, a werewolf, the walking disaster, the wonder boy and his faithful sidekick. What more could one ask for?"

"Indeed. You're a lucky fellow, Severus," Lupin said, and his smile broadened.

"Percy Weasley said he will do what he can to help on the inside," McGonagall continued, as she tried unsuccessfully to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up.

"McGonagall and I will round up as many as we can and sneak through the Wizengamot offices," Amelia continued. "That will bring us fairly close to the minister's office, at any rate."

"When do we act?" Ron asked. His hands were clenched into fists on the table, and his face was pale, but his jaw was set.

But before McGonagall could reply, Remus tensed and held up a warning hand.

"What is it?" Amelia asked.

"I thought I heard something," Remus replied, his voice low. "Outside."

"What? What did you...?" Harry started to ask.

CRASH! The windows all around the Hogs Head were shattered, and two dozen black-robed wizards came pouring in, their wands raised.

Everyone scrambled to their feet and drew their wands as the dark-robed wizards advanced on them. But before anyone could fire a defensive spell, cords shot out from several wands and they were all tied up. Four wizards then went around to the captives and confiscated their wands.

"You are all under arrest for high treason," said one of the wizards, and he lowered his hood.

"Podmore," Amelia said, her voice dripping with disdain.

Sturgis Podmore ignored her and turned to another wizard and handed him a heavy-looking bag.

"For services rendered," Podmore said. "As we agreed on. You did a commendable service to our kind."

"I don't care for commendation, just cash," said the wizard, whose voice everyone recognized at once.

"Dung!" Tonks cried out. "How could you?"

Mundungus Fletcher shrugged as he quickly counted the gold coins in the bag. "The price was right," he replied.

"Mundungus Fletcher," McGonagall hissed. "You better pray we never get loose. Because if we do, I for one will hunt you down like the miserable cur you are. You are the one who has committed treason here tonight!"

Fletcher gave another shrug and left with his bag of money, obviously satisfied with the amount.

Harry noticed Snape, Lupin, McGonagall and Bones exchanging significant looks, but couldn't figure out what they might have been communicating. Meanwhile, two wizards escorted a bound captive each outside of the bar, leaving Aberforth to grumble about trouble and having to clean up the glass. Podmore casually tossed another velveteen bag onto the bar counter.

"For your troubles," Podmore said smoothly. "I apologize for any damage done here tonight. Duty is duty."

Aberforth picked up the bag with a wide smile as the wizards left. The smile disappeared, however, as the last black-robed figure walked out into the night. He walked over to the grimy sink and slowly dropped the coins down the drain. They clattered hollowly as they went down the pipes.

"I don't need your blood money," Aberforth hissed under his breath, and he wiped a hand across his eyes. "You filthy, murdering curs."

He looked around his bar to make sure it was empty. He then pointed his wand at the door, which closed and locked itself shut. The face of the dingy sign, which said "open," swirled until it said "closed." The old bartender then shuffled out the back exit at top speed into the cool night air of the town....

* * * * *

The seven captives were dragged out of the Hogs Head and onto the road leading back to Hogwarts. Snape and McGonagall, who were in front, kept exchanging looks. Suddenly, McGonagall gave a moan and dropped to the ground.

"Professor!" Harry cried out, startled.

"What's going on? What happened?" called out one of Harry's captors as the group suddenly halted. The other wizard near Harry took two steps closer to see what was going on.

"Can she at least stand up?" Podmore said impatiently. "We need to hurry, we are already 10 minutes late...."

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of white light as Snape broke free of his bonds, a wand clutched in his hand. The two wizards nearest McGonagall fell to the ground as the headmistress rose to her feet, a wand in her own hand.

How did they do that? Harry wondered as Lupin and Bones broke free of their bonds, Summoned their wands and started attacking their captors. Bones felled her two captives before turning to the still bound Harry and Ron. She pointed her wand at them and made several small circles, and their bonds fell away. But they still had no wands....

Podmore went to grab at Harry, who balled his right hand into a fist and punched him as hard as he could in the face. Podmore went sprawling onto the ground, clutching at his broken nose, and Harry managed to grab the fallen wizard's wand. He managed to fend off two other wizards when he heard a crack and thump behind him. He turned quickly to see a dark-robed wizard at his feet, unconscious. He looked up to see Ron, his wand raised, looking at the fallen wizard in contempt.

"Thanks," Harry shouted above the chaos.

Ron's reply was lost in the sounds of battle around them. Several wizards who had been knocked out earlier were now regaining consciousness and were rejoining the battle, and soon the seven wizards were in danger of being overwhelmed.

Zing! Sounds of spell casting and shouting could be heard to Harry's left. He turned quickly and was surprised to see the old bartender from Hogs Head, as well as Madam Rosmerta and many of the other store owners from Hogsmeade running forward, wands drawn.

"About time they came!" Snape growled. He was sporting several nasty cuts, and his cheekbones were scarlet.

Pandemonium ensued as the captors suddenly found themselves unexpectedly on the defensive. Harry saw several of the dark-cloaked wizards break away and bolt for the dark forest.

"Oi!" Ron called out, seeing the fleeing wizards as well. He pointed at them.

"Quick! After them!" Lupin hollered, and he led the charge into the dark woods.

"McGonagall," Aberforth wheezed out. "I hope you are serious about doing something about the minister soon, because we have just declared open war. We could end up being fed to the Dementors for this!"

"I realize the possible consequences of our actions more than you could possibly hope to understand, Aberforth," retorted McGonagall.

"We had to start sometime," Snape said sarcastically. "Why not tonight?"

"Halt!" Lupin suddenly ordered. "We need to figure out where we are and who all is here."

"I am getting too old for this," McGonagall panted, and she leaned against a tree.

Several wizards muttered "Lumos," and the light from their wands cast an eerie glow through the dark woods.

"Where's Amelia?" Snape said sharply.

"She's all right, but she sprained her ankle and had a few deep cuts to her head and arms," replied a wizard Harry didn't know. "She's with the Hornsbeys, they were taking care of her."

"Well, now what?" Tonks said as she peered around. "How are we going to find them through all of this?"

There was a loud crashing sound to their left, and the wizards quickly turned in the direction of the noise.

"Who goes there?" Snape called out, his wand clenched tightly.

"Blimey, it's just me," called a very familiar voice. "Heard you were in a spot of trouble, and thought I'd come to help yeh."

"Hagrid!" Harry called out as the massive half-giant walked into the small clearing.

"'Allo, Harry," Hagrid said with a huge smile. The half-giant was considerably grayer than when Harry was a student, but his black eyes still twinkled merrily and there was no stiffness in his broad stride.

"Did anyone else come with you?" Snape asked impatiently.

"Blimey, no! And leave the school unprotected?" Hagrid said with a snort.

Just then, they heard terrified screams in the distance, followed by the sounds of dozens of hoof beats.

"What is that?" Ron asked as he and the others turned sharply in the direction of the new uproar.

"Bane," Hagrid whispered, and he started walking in the direction of the commotion. "Those wizards must have run right into the centaur's territory! The centaurs won't be too happy about that."

"Then why are we heading that way, too?" Ron asked. Harry thought that a very sensible question.

"We won't be able to save them, Hagrid," Lupin whispered urgently. "The centaurs may have declared a truce with wizards after that incident with Firenze, but there is no love lost there, and they don't take too kindly to trespassers."

Hagrid seemed to hesitate.

"Let's head back to the castle, before we get lost," McGonagall said, her tone carrying a note of finality. "There's nothing more we can do out here, besides, I don't hear anything anymore...."

A twig snapped to their left, and everyone jumped. Wands were relit, and Harry saw several pairs of eyes staring coldly back at them.

"Rubeus Hagrid," called a gruff voice. A black-bodied centaur with wild black hair stepped forward. "Why have you come here without invitation? And why are these humans with you?"

"Sorry, Bane," Hagrid said, his tone apologetic. "We heard some screams, we think from wizards we were looking for."

"Friends of yours?" said another centaur with a red hair and beard and a chestnut body in a grave voice.

"No!" Harry said emphatically and he stepped forward. "Certainly not!"

"They were trying to capture us," McGonagall said crisply.

But the two centaurs paid no attention. Instead, they fixed their penetrating gazes on the black-haired wizard.

"Harry Potter?" said the chestnut centaur. "Is it really him?"

"That's right, Ronan," Hagrid replied.

"Harry Potter," Bane said coldly. "I haven't seen you since that day years ago, when you had that dreadful toad-like human with you."

Harry swallowed hard and looked away. Bane was, of course, talking about Umbridge.

Bane glared at Harry for several seconds before turning back to Hagrid. But before he could say anything, Ronan spoke up.

"Why were the wizards after you?" Ronan asked softly.

"Trying to arrest us," Harry replied dryly. "For treason."

"I've heard several of your kind have been accused by the new order," Ronan said. "The dark lord whose shadow haunted our days may be gone, but a new shadow emerges." He looked up at the sky and studied it thoughtfully.

"Why has the shadow fallen again?" said a roan centaur with a deep, booming voice. "Many thought, including our kind, that with the destruction of the dark lord, Mars would dim in the sky. But Mars, if anything, has blazed on."

Harry swallowed, but he looked steadily at the roan centaur. "A man was put into power, a man we all trusted, but...." His voice trailed off, and he looked at Ron uncertainly.

"He betrayed our trust," Ron finished quietly. "Power corrupted him completely, and changed him so entirely that he isn't even the same person."

Bane snorted derisively. "Humans claims to be the superior race, yet barely a generation passes without some new darkness brought on by them. The only talent in which your kind is superior is killing each other off in a variety of different ways for an even more varied list of reasons." He tossed his shaggy head and stamped a hoofed foot.

"Can centaurs claim moral superiority?" Harry retorted, his temper rising. "After what happened to Firenze?"

Bane and the other centaurs hissed, and the black-haired centaur recoiled visibly.

"Harry!" Hagrid whispered, and he cast a nervous glance at the centaurs, who were stamping uneasily.

"Firenze tried to save you, and he succeeded for the most part," Harry continued unabated. "Despite the risk, he cared enough to warn you about the acromantula attack and came back to your kind - only to be attacked on sight! His dying words about the impending ambush saved you all. You thanked him by killing him, and why? Because you saw him as a traitor and couldn't forgive him for helping us in our time of need!"

"Do not mention our brother's name again," Bane whispered, a note of pain in his voice. "Our actions ... our actions stain us all. We never claim to be superior, unlike humans, but that black day will never be forgotten. To throw our shame at us does no one good, Harry Potter. We cannot undo the past or make reparations." Bane sighed. "Go. Go back to your castle now. The hour grows late."

"Join us," Harry said without thinking. He blinked, surprised at his own words.

"What?" Ronan said, his eyebrows arching. Both the centaurs and the wizards were muttering and casting nervous glances at one another.

Harry took a deep breath and decided to plunge on. "Join us. Soon, we plan to bring down the leader who is responsible for casting another shadow on our world."

"The problems of humans don't concern..." Bane snapped.

"Since when?" Harry said hotly. "How long do you think you'll be able to remain isolated from everything in the world, before the problems come to you? And when that happens, who will help you then?"

There was more muttering among the centaurs. Some seemed suspicious, but others, including Ronan, regarded Harry reflectively.

"If you won't do it for yourselves, do it in Firenze's memory," Harry continued. "He would have assisted us. By helping us now, you can help erase the guilt for what you did to him."

"Who are you to tell us in what manner to erase...?" Bane said angrily, and he half-reared menacingly in front of Harry. Harry recoiled but stood his ground.

"What would you have us do?" Ronan asked quietly. He held up a restraining hand against Bane and regarded Harry with thoughtful, light brown eyes.

"Have you lost your mind?" Bane bellowed as he rounded on Ronan. Ronan didn't even flinch, and he fixed Bane with a steady, penetrating gaze until Bane reluctantly backed down.

A dozen pair of centaur eyes then turned to Harry.

"What would you have us do?" Ronan repeated.

Harry smiled in triumph and told the centaurs of their plan....

* * * * *

Arthur slammed the main door to his house, infuriated. He had been at his office in the Ministry all night until dawn, waiting to hear back from Sturgis Podmore about the arrests of the little resistance group Mundungus Fletcher had tipped him off about. Podmore had taken two dozen to apprehend a group of no more than a half-dozen or so. So what happened? Why had Podmore not contacted him? Did Podmore, too, run like Doge? Like Bones? Like so many others he thought he could trust, only to be betrayed?

Podmore had better have a good explanation for his actions, Arthur thought as he headed up the marble stairway and started towards his room to change....

Arthur stopped in mid-stride as a keening wail, then sobbing reached his ears. Molly! He thought, concerned, and he started heading in the opposite direction. He saw Percy emerge from Ginny's bedroom several yards away.

"Percy!" Arthur said. "What is it? What was that cry?"

"Ginny is dead," Percy whispered, his face pale. His eyes looked haunted, defeated.

"Dead?" Arthur respond, the word sticking in his throat. His footsteps slowed. "What happened? How...?"

"Early this morning, mum and I heard a startled cry and a sound as if something had fallen," Percy said, his voice shaking. "We ran to Ginny's room, fearing she may have fallen out of bed. We entered to find the mediwitch on the ground, a gash to her head and stunned. Ginny ... she was nowhere to be found. When the mediwitch recovered her senses, she said that Ginny had suddenly attacked her ... with this." Percy held up the tarnished silver mirror from Grimmauld Place, the glass now shattered.

Arthur's throat constricted. "I ... I didn't even know she still had that accursed thing...."

"She kept this mirror hidden from all of us," Percy said. "She must have continued to use it, perhaps to search for something, I can't even hazard a guess.

"We started searching the floor for Ginny, when mum looked outside this window and cried out," the younger wizard continued, pointing to the large window at the end of the hallway. "We saw ... we saw Ginny flying away rapidly on broomstick."

"How did she get a hold of a broomstick, in her state?" Arthur asked angrily.

"We don't know!" Percy replied with equal temper. "It's not as if any of us kept one in her room or handed her one!"

Arthur flushed and fell silent as Percy continued.

Arthur closed his eyes, but no tears came.

"She should have died hereafter," he whispered. "There would have been a time for such a word."

"Father?" Percy asked incredulously as he turned and stared at Arthur.

Arthur leaned heavily against the wall and continued as if he hadn't heard. "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"Father," Percy insisted. "Won't you go to mum? She is distraught, she needs you!"

Arthur laughed bitterly. "Does it matter what I do anymore? My actions of the past have set my feet on a darkened, twisted path, and I see no way out. It doesn't matter anymore what I do. It just doesn't matter. It is too late."

"Father!" Percy exclaimed. "How can you say such a thing?"

Arthur stared at his son, and Percy blanched and looked down. "If you have seen and done half of what I have managed to accomplish in these short months, you would not wonder at my words." He sighed, then headed to Ginny's room, where he could hear Molly weeping quietly. He looked in and saw Molly kneeling by Ginny's bed. Hermione was standing at the foot of the bed, a hand over her mouth to stifle her own sobs.

"Arthur," Molly whispered, hesitant, uncertain. She stood up and took an indecisive step closer to her husband.

But Arthur could not take his eyes off the broken body of his daughter. He gingerly placed a hand on her bruised, dirt-streaked brow and fell to his knees. He bowed his head as Molly slowly knelt beside him and put her arms around her husband and clung to him tightly.

"My poor little girl," Arthur whispered, his voice strained. "Fear no more the heat of the sun, nor the furious winters' rages. You, your worldly task is done, home is gone and taken your wages. Golden lads and girls all must, as chimney-sweepers, come to dust."

Percy walked over to Hermione and draped an arm over her shoulder in comfort.

"We ... we didn't know," Molly whispered as she hugged Arthur and started rocking. "We tried to stop her, but it was too late, it was too late...."

"I know," Arthur said quietly. "There was nothing to be done. Nothing can be done." He rose to his feet and turned to his wife with a tired, defeated look. He gently, tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I must go back to the Ministry now," he said, his voice hollow.

"What???" Molly spluttered in shock and outrage.

Arthur bent over and kissed her lightly on the forehead and looked at her sorrowfully.

"I hope I haven't done too much to you already," he said sadly. "I feel I have poisoned everything I've touch. All I have loved and cherished have disappeared, crumbled, and I don't know why. Percy, you stay here. You are not yet tainted."

"Arthur!" Molly cried out in anguish, and she grabbed her husband by the arms. "I need you here! Your family needs you! Arthur!!!"

But Arthur pulled himself away from Molly's grasp and walked rapidly out the door. Soon, there was a slight creak as the grand main door was opened, then a resolute slam as the door swung shut.

"How?" Molly whispered. "How could he do this, just leave? How?"

"I don't know," Hermione said in sadness tinged with disgust. "I...."

A soft sound behind them made the three wizards whirl around, wands drawn. They gave a collective gasp as they say a tall figure standing by the window.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, as she and Molly ran over to embrace him.

Ron, however, was staring at Ginny with a horrified expression.

"What ... what happened?" Ron croaked as he absently returned Hermione's and his mother's embrace.

"She died this morning," Molly said between sniffles. "Where have you been? Why didn't you at least write ...?" She broke off and hugged him fiercely.

"I .. I'm sorry, mum," Ron whispered as he returned her embrace. "I truly am. Harry and I, we were told to run for it after Bill's death, we had started asking too many questions, and dad got so mad at us...."

"Why have you come now?" Percy said, and he nervously flicked his eyes towards the doorway.

"Partly to look for you, Perce," Ron said. "It has started."

Percy blanched. "When?"

"As we speak," Ron replied. He turned to his mother and Hermione. "You two should leave here at once. There's ..." he looked nervously at Molly. "There's going to be a terrible row soon. I don't want you getting hurt. There's a place near Brighton you can hide...."

"There are people who are going to arrest him, then?" Molly said with unusual calm. "Is that it?" Hermione bit her lower lip.

Ron looked away and nodded. Percy ran both hands through his hair and started pacing near the door.

"Mum, I wish...." Ron said desperately.

"I understand...." Molly whispered, her voice choked. "I have long suspected that he has known far more about ... recent events then he will let on. You do what you have ...." she put a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, unable to continue.

"You two should go now," Ron urged. "Percy and I have to go to the Ministry...."

"I'm coming with you," Hermione said coolly.

Ron started to protest. "Hermione! No, it's going to be dangerous, and I don't want...."

"I can wield a wand just as well as you can, Ron Weasley," Hermione said, and she folded her arms across her chest. She fixed Ron with a look that plainly said that she would broke no argument.

"But..." Ron protested.

"We can use as many wands as we can get," Percy admitted. Ron glared at him, but Percy merely shrugged.

"All right," Ron said reluctantly. "You can come."

"Oh, like you ever had any choice in the matter," Hermione quipped as she concentrated and Summoned her broom.

"I will stay here for now," Molly said dully as she sat at the edge of the bed and looked at her daughter's still face. "The healer is in the next room and can assist me. We've contacted St. Mungo's, and someone will be coming to ... to pick up Ginny."

Percy and Ron Summoned their brooms. Ron again embraced his mother and gave her a peck on the cheek. Hermione and Percy did likewise, then with one final glance into the room, they all headed towards the front door.

"Hermione, you will go through the back way, to the Wizengamot Chamber," Ron said in hushed tones as they mounted their brooms. "Percy, head to the entrance nearest your office. Our biggest group is heading in from the Wizengamot chambers and will be going straight to the minister's office. There will be five wizards, including me, going through the main entrance to provide some sort of distraction. We'll need you to head off and misdirect as many of the ministry people as possible, since you're someone they trust." Ron cast Percy a suspicious, sideways glance.

"You can trust me in this," Percy said, and he flushed in anger. "I know more than you can possibly appreciate how much ... how much the minister has changed, and how this needs to end. I betray my father now to save him and our family."

Ron nodded, somewhat mollified, and kicked off the ground, the other two following close behind.

* * * * *

Where did everything go so wrong? Arthur asked himself bitterly as he nursed his gillywater and rum. I have the Ministry in my control, I have destroyed the Malfoys, I have everything and more that my heart ever desired, yet my success tastes like ash in my mouth. And I, for the life of me, can't figure out why. How can fate be so cruel, to hand me everything I've ever wanted on one hand, yet snatch away my appetite to appreciate it by seasoning it with the most sour and bitter taste?

"Minister?"

Arthur slowly turned to the doorway, where Amos Diggory stood pensively. "What is it?" he asked, his voice flat. Then he took in Diggory's pale face and staring look. "Well? What is it?" he asked, more concerned.

"Minister," Diggory said, and he licked his lips. "I had heard rumors, but didn't want to bother you before, it seemed so silly...."

"Stop beating around the bush, Amos," Arthur said sharply. "What is it?"

"There's a rebellion," Diggory replied. "It's only a little distance away. They're coming to the ministry. I think ... I think they mean to unseat you, stage a coup."

"We've handled rough times before," Arthur said, annoyed. "I am certain we can weather anything a little rebellion can send our way."

"Arthur, there are at least a hundred strong coming here," Diggory said as he pointed to the window. "And when I looked outside, it was as if I were watching a forest move through the streets...."

"What?" Arthur said, and he turned pale. "Amos Diggory, if that is your idea of a sick joke...."

"Am I laughing, Arthur?" Diggory retorted, more pale then ever. "Look out there yourself."

Arthur ran to the window and looked out into the street. Not two blocks away was the strangest and most terrifying sight he had ever seen: about 100 or so wizards and centaurs, slowly filing past the afternoon traffic and walking unseen past the Muggle pedestrians, and all of them carrying branches high in the air as if they were standards.

Those who seek to overthrow you will succeed only when Birnam Wood comes to the heart of the Ministry.

Arthur swore a violent oath. "I pull in resolution and begin to doubt the equivocation of the fiend that lies like truth," he hissed. "So Birnam Wood has come to pierce my heart then."

"Arthur?" Diggory asked, confused.

The minister turned to Diggory. "Put the building under complete lockdown, now! We haven't a moment to lose! They mean trouble, but I won't go down without a fight. Now go!"

Diggory scurried off and started to raise the alarm as Arthur sat back down at his desk, confident that maybe this time, he could defy fate.

Little did Arthur know, however, that the ministry building was already breached....

* * * * *

"Wotcher," Tonks called out to the gray-haired guard at the front desk.

The guard turned a suspicious, squinty-eyed gaze towards Tonks as she and Lupin entered with Harry and Ron between them.

"A rather suspicious bunch, the lot of you," the guard growled out. "What is your business here?"

"A word with Minister Weasley," Lupin said pleasantly. "I know he has been wanting to talk to Mr. Potter and young Mr. Weasley here, and they wish to speak with him as well."

The guard looked Harry and Ron up and down. "Why aren't they tied? They're wanted in connection with murder!"

"They came of their own free will," Lupin replied.

"I think I have a right to see my own father," Ron said, an edge to his tone.

The guard seemed to be wavering, when an alarm sounded.

"Attention all Ministry personnel!" a disembodied voice called out "Lock all doors to the outside, and under no circumstances is anyone to be let in! We are under complete lockdown!"

The guard's eyes widened, and he started to touch his wand to a bright red paper airplane when the guard stiffened, uttered a few choking sounds and fell to the floor. The half-translucent figure of Snape appeared from behind him, clutching the strangest weapon Harry had ever seen. It looked like two short, curved daggers with deeply serrated edges, with a handhold between the two blades.

Using her wand, Tonks quickly turned the paper airplane, which had begun to fly through the air, into a pile of ash. Immediately, the alarms redoubled, and the five wizards could hear shouting and footsteps coming their way.

"Oh, boy!" Lupin muttered.

"We've got company!" Ron said, and he swore.

"Oops!" Tonks said apologetically.

"Foolish girl!" Snape hissed as he withdrew his own wand from his robes. He looked all-too solid now in his wrath. "Well, there's no helping it, now! Run for it, to the left!"

The five wizards dashed through the left corridor and into an empty storage room.

"Ow!" Ron complained as he hit his head against a broom. Harry grunted as he barked his shin on a mop bucket, which scuttled out of his way.

"Couldn't we have found a better place to hide?" Ron grumbled as he dodged the head of a mop.

"If you have any suggestions, Weasley, feel free to volunteer them," Snape retorted in a low voice as they heard footsteps draw nearer. The potions master suddenly exhaled sharply. "Watch where you move, Tonks, that was my foot!"

"Watch it!" Ron hissed as Snape nearly stuck an elbow in his eye.

"Everyone hold still," Lupin whispered as the footsteps grew louder. "We can't quarrel like this ...."

"Who's quarrelling?" Tonks asked innocently.

"No one," Harry remarked, with a bitter look at Snape, which was mostly lost in the darkness. "Except some people...."

"Do you all need the draught of peace?" Lupin reprimanded. "I can easily Summon some, there was a great pitcher in the refrigerator ...."

"NO!" Ron, Harry and Snape chorused as one.

"If I never touch the stuff again, I will be eternally grateful," Snape muttered.

"It wasn't that bad," Lupin protested.

"Yes, but every day after breakfast?" Harry queried.

"And after lunch?" Ron added.

"Not to mention after supper and as a nightcap," Snape chimed in. "Every day. For four bloody weeks."

"Yes, but we are all still alive and talking with each other, aren't we?" Lupin protested gently.

"Shhh!" Tonks whispered. "They're getting closer!"

The five wizards fell silent as footsteps and muttered voices could be heard just outside the door. These gradually faded again into the distance.

"Well?" Harry whispered. "Now what?"

"First, we need to get out of this room," Snape said with a scowl. "Then we make our way to the bottom floor. And then ... the real fun begins." He pressed his ear to the door, and Lupin did likewise.

"Do you hear anything?" Snape said in a low voice.

Lupin shook his head, and turned to the others. "Remember, now, the Disillusionment charm will only work for ten minutes at best in here. We will need to move quickly!"

Harry and the others tapped themselves sharply with their wands, and he felt as if ice water were being poured through his very blood. However, he also knew that he was, if not invisible, was a lot harder to see because he now blended in with his surroundings. He had considered using his invisibility cloak, which would have been harder to detect, but then Lupin correctly pointed out that it would be difficult for even one person - never mind five - to move quickly while hiding beneath its protective folds.

Snape cracked the door and peered around, and it looked to Harry as if he were seeing a moving, perfectly clear ice sculpture of the potions master. He gestured impatiently to the others as he stepped back into the hallway. Soon, they all left the room and were running as quickly as they could down the corridor....

* * * * *

Amelia Bones swore as, try as she might, her key refused to budge the lock.

"I thought you said you could change the locks," McGonagall asked nervously.

"Usually, I could," Amelia admitted. "But my key won't even go in! They must have called for a lockdown, we must have been seen."

"So now what?" asked Neville Longbottom nervously. "Is there another entrance?"

"Nothing where we could slip though unobserved," Amelia conceded. "Especially not from here."

"Here" was an old, infrequently-used underground tunnel that led into Courtroom 10. In times of war and upheaval, it was used as an escape to the outside for the Wizengamot members and anyone else in the room. Getting through the tunnel to the back entrance of Courtroom 10 hadn't been as great a difficulty as everyone had feared. Hagrid and two of the stronger centaurs moved the boulders blocking the path and the door opened with a simple "alohamora." But now, it looked as if they were stuck....

"We have to get in there," said Elphias Doge frantically.

"They'll be sitting ducks inside!" Hermione added, referring to Harry, Ron and the others.

"If they made it inside," Bones said as she gave the key a sharp tug. The key merely bent in the lock and Bones used a very colorful vocabulary no one knew she possessed trying to get it out.

"Lemme take a look," Hagrid said as he pushed his way to the door and stared at it for a few seconds. He lifted a massive boot and gave the door a swift kick ... and then started yelping and hopping around as he clutched at his now-sore foot.

"I don't think that will do the trick," McGonagall said wryly.

"Owowowowowowowow!" Hagrid responded.

Click! The door suddenly swung open by itself. The wizards nearest the door peered in suspiciously, wands raised ...

... And Percy appeared before them, removing a filmy Invisibility cloak from over his head.

"I heard them sound the alarm," Percy said in a low voice as he held the door open and started to let the wizards and centaurs inside. "I figured you might need a hand."

"Thank you...." McGonagall started to say, but then, they all started hearing the sound of footsteps and shouting just outside the courtroom. Percy swore, hid his Invisibility Cloak beneath his robes and walked out of Courtroom 10 as everyone held their collective breath. A slip of paper on the dais where the Wizengamot members held council had wafted into the air by the draft of the opened door, and everyone could here the gentle scrape as it touched down and lightly slid across the floor.

"I've checked much of this level already," they could hear Percy say. "There's nothing here, it must have been a false alarm, you know that tunnel gets drafty, and the gusts must have shaken the door a bit. Yes, I checked in the chambers, nothing was amiss. Try the Canteen area, for I haven't been that far yet. What is it, Paris?" Another wizard was muttering something those in the chambers couldn't understand. "Dead, you say? A shame, thank you for telling me this. All right, all of you move out! Search the Canteen. Some of you, go to level four and search there. Adams, Cory, Proctor and Bishop - go to the Minister's office and stand guard. Whoever made it into the building is obviously armed and dangerous."

More feet started shuffling off into the distance, and after a couple of minutes, Percy reappeared in the tunnel.

"Percy!" McGonagall hissed as she and the others started entering Courtroom 10. "Why did you tell them to go to the Minister's office? We are heading there!"

"He's not in there," Percy said nervously. "Sometime in all this, he just disappeared. I thought for certain he would have locked himself in, but, well, he hasn't. I just hope he didn't sneak out."

"Wonderful," Neville muttered. "We hadn't really planned for that."

"Well, there's no helping it now," Amelia said. "We'll have to search the building. Percy, how large was that group you intercepted for us?"

"There were about a dozen," Percy replied.

"Right," McGonagall said. "We split up, then and start searching this place top to bottom. A dozen wizards per group, centaurs, you may join one of the groups or keep to your own separate group."

"I think one or two of our own kind should join with your groups," Ronan replied. "Our bows and physical strength for your magic protection." Bane huffed and stamped a hoof but didn't comment.

McGonagall allowed herself a triumphant grin. She was hoping the level-headed Ronan would suggest the more cooperative effort.

"I will go up to level three, Percy said as he peeked cautiously out the door again. "See whom I can misdirect up there."

"Do you remember the signal?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, yes, now go," Percy said. "The coast is clear." He stood aside as groups of a dozen or so wizards, each with one or two centaurs, moved quietly out of the courtroom into the hallways and headed up the stairs. Percy then started to retrieve his Invisibility cloak from within his robe....

"Stupify!" Percy heard a voice behind him hiss, then all went dark.

* * * * *

"Any sign of him?" McGonagall called out to Snape, who was coming her way, along with Tonks.

Snape shook his head. "I just talked with Amelia. All the floors, save levels one, two and this one, are completely secured, so it's only a matter of time. We have our allies working here as we speak. Most everyone who was within these ministry walls is either dead, captured or has sided with us. I am pleased to report that most have willingly sided with us. Any remaining resistance will be short-lived."

"Amos Diggory?" McGonagall asked.

"Diggory is in prison," Snape said coolly, but then his expression became sad. "But that brings me to another matter...."

"Yes?" McGonagall asked anxiously. "What is it?"

"We found Shacklebolt and Vance," Snape said in a hushed tone. "They were in the holding cells on the second level."

"Dead?" McGonagall whispered.

"Vance was, and had been for some time," Snape replied. "Kingsley said it had been four days since he last heard her talk."

"So Kingsley, at least, is still alive!"

"Barely. We moved him down the hall to the medical wing, as soon as we felt it was safe, and we have healers working on him now. But he was brutally tortured. The head healer admitted she wasn't sure even if the best medicine will pull him through. Even if he does survive...."

"Professors," Hermione called out as she approached them. The young witch's hair was singed and she sported several cuts and smoky streaks on her arms, robes and face, but she was smiling. "The third floor is now completely secured, and we are working on the remaining holding cells on the second level."

"Excellent," McGonagall said, relieved. "Any sign of...?"

Hermione's face fell. "No, still no sign of the minister."

"He can't hide away much longer," Snape said, and he clenched his fists.

McGonagall, meanwhile, was looking around.

"Where's Percy?" she asked. "It just hit me, I never saw him. Did you meet up with him? He was supposed to be here, to misdirect ministry traffic."

"No," Hermione said. "I haven't seen him at all."

McGonagall inhaled sharply. "I don't like this...."

Snape saw Lupin heading down the hall with a wizard who was sporting several severe cuts and burns. "Lupin! Have you seen Percy Weasley?"

"Percy?" Lupin said as he paused. "No, can't say that I have." He continued down the hall with the injured wizard.

"What's this about Percy?" Ron asked as he, Neville and Harry walked up.

"He's not here," Hermione said. "I remember now, he did say he was coming to the third floor."

"Well, none of us has seen him," Harry said in growing alarm. "So where could he be?"

* * * * *

The darkness started to diminish, turning gray, then lighter, and Percy found himself regaining consciousness on the floor of Courtroom 10, looking up at the towering figure of his wrathful father.

"What...?" Percy muttered, his head still cloudy.

"How could you?" Arthur whispered. He loomed over Percy like a fiery Aries, the fierce, vengeful god of war.

"I ... I had to," Percy confessed. "For the sake of our world...."

"You betrayed me!" Arthur shouted, trembling like a volcano that was about to erupt and shower chaos and destruction on anyone in its path.

"No, minister," Percy said coldly as he half rose. "You betrayed us. You betrayed the ideals of our world. You betrayed the law. And you betrayed the ideals of our family...."

"You betrayed me!" Arthur thundered, cutting his son off. "You swore to serve me faithfully, to never swerve in your allegiance to me, and you let the ones who would overthrow me right through the bloody door!"

Percy rose to his feet and instinctively reached for his wand. It wasn't there, and he saw his wand in his father's clutched hand.

"No, minister," Percy said. "I made that promise to my father."

"I am your father, boy," Arthur snarled.

"No," Percy said, fighting to keep his voice level. "My father died some time ago. I don't know when and I don't know exactly how, but I think Ginny, in her madness, was right. We lost our father. He is gone."

Arthur went purple with rage, and he savagely raised his wand.

"What?" Percy said, his calm tone surprising even him. "Are you going to kill me, too? Like Dumbledore? Like Bill?"

Arthur gave a cold laugh. "CRUCIO!" he shouted, and his voice reverberated around the room. Percy screamed and collapsed back onto the ground as torrents of agonizing pain rolled through him.

"Oh no," Arthur said as he looked down at his writhing son as one would look at a particularly mange-covered rat. "No, not yet. You have betrayed me twice now, and you will pay!" A manic gleam came to his eyes as Arthur intensified the spell.

Percy couldn't even scream anymore, the pain became so unbearable. He felt as if his head would explode, his eyes would melt, that the vertebrae in his spine would disintegrate, that his bones would crumble into powder....

From what seemed to be a distance away, Percy heard another voice, as if it were coming through a thick fog.

"Turn, hell-hound, turn!"

The pain suddenly stopped, and Percy lay on the ground, gasping for air with a mouth that felt as if it was blistered, taking air into lungs that felt scorched.

"Malfoy!" Percy heard his father say before the younger wizard passed out.

* * * * *

"Malfoy," Arthur said again. "Oh, how I had hoped we would meet after you were released. Did you enjoy your homecoming, villain?"

"I have no words," Malfoy said. "My voice is my wand, you bloodier villain than terms can give you!"

Malfoy hurled a spell at Arthur, and a ghostly white dragon-like beast came from the end of the wizard's wand. The beast gave a scream that made the walls shake and it bore down on Arthur, who dropped to his knees. The dais was split down the middle, and several of the chairs went flying and shattered on the dark stone wall. But Arthur cast a stream of red light at the conjured dragon-thing, paralyzing it. The beast suddenly disappeared as Malfoy lifted the spell and cast an inferno wall at the other wizard, who countered with a tidal wave. The hot, sticky steam that was created obscured their vision for several seconds.

Arthur choked on the thick mist and waved a hand in front of his face to clear the air. He peered around in frustration, but could only catch faint glimpses of a bench, the desk, part of the gilded frame of a portrait ... wait. Just ahead, he thought he saw a human shape starting to emerge from the fog.

There you are, you demon, Arthur thought as he hurled a green, ribbon-like winding rope at his foe ... but then, Malfoy disappeared, and Arthur was hit from behind by a Cruciatus curse. Arthur, nearly blinded by pain and rage, cast the rope spell again, and this time, it ensnared its victim. Malfoy was sent backwards and onto his side as the ropes delivered a series of painful shocks. Trembling, Arthur rose to his feet and walked over to his captive, wand raised.

"Now I've got you," Arthur muttered savagely.

But Arthur allowed himself to get too close, for Malfoy quickly spun around on the floor and kicked Arthur's legs from underneath him, and the minister went sprawling onto the ground. Malfoy managed to break the electric ropes and stood over Weasley, who managed to raise himself to his knees.

"You coward!" Malfoy hissed. "You needed to bring a legion against my wife and my son. You don't do so well matched one on one, do you now?"

"I do well enough," Arthur retorted as he pointed his wand to the ground. Malfoy hissed and scrambled backwards as a green goo poured from Arthur's wand and dribbled on the floor towards the wizard. The goo sent off tendrils of noxious gas and ate into the stone as it flowed towards Malfoy.

Malfoy whirled and glared at Arthur ... who had disappeared. Two arms were suddenly around the blond wizard's neck. Malfoy gasped in pain and outrage as Arthur's arms tightened. The blond wizard sent an elbow sharply into Arthur's ribs, and the minister's grip loosened enough for Malfoy to twist free. Malfoy turned and punched Arthur in the upper lip, which made Arthur stagger, but he kept his footing.

Arthur pointed his wand at a column, which started to crack and crumble. Malfoy was barely able to dodge the larger pieces of falling marble, and a chunk of rock the size of his fist hit him on the forehead. The blond wizard returned the favor by pointing his wand at the ground. The floor shook and nearly knocked them both off of their feet as a large split appeared in the floor. Malfoy then started hurling rock back at Arthur. Arthur waved his wand at a nearby painting and Summoned it to him, and he used the canvas to deflect the hurled marble. The minister then sent the benches, one after another, flying at Malfoy, who cast a Concussion Wave spell, which shattered all of the benches but sent both him and his foe flying through the air.

Malfoy and Arthur gingerly picked themselves up off of the ground, gripped their wands and glared at each other. Both of them were bruised, bloodied and breathing hard, but their exertions had done nothing to dim the hatred in their eyes.

"I've had enough of these games," Malfoy whispered as he wiped a hand across his lacerated brow.

"I agree," Arthur hissed. "Let's end it. Now."

Both wizards raised their wands.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

* * * * *

About a dozen wizards burst into Courtroom 10 and looked around the chamber in disbelief.

"What happened here?" Harry whispered, his eyes wide.

Hermione grabbed Harry's shoulder, and she pointed to the middle of the room.

Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy lay in the middle of the courtroom, side by side, dead, their wands still clutched in their hands.

"Dad!" Ron choked out, and he ran over to the still figure of his father and knelt down.

Lupin, meanwhile, had spotted Percy and ran over to his side.

"Percy," Lupin said as he and Harry helped the red-haired wizard sit up. "What happened? Are you all right?"

But Percy was looking fixedly over at his brother, who turned to Percy with a sad, despairing look.

"He's gone," Ron whispered, and tears streaked down his face. "They both are."

Percy slowly, shakily rose to his feet and with unsteady step, walked over to his brother and looked down at Arthur. He collapsed to his knees and looked at his father's face.

"He looks at peace," Percy whispered. "It has been so long since he has looked that calm. If I close my eyes just a little, forget the destruction, he's my father again, and I can pretend ... I can pretend...." Percy's head fell into his hands and he started weeping bitterly. Ron tightly embraced his brother and they held each other for several minutes.

"So now what?" Neville said bleakly as he surveyed the destruction of the room.

"It looks as if Harry Potter will be de facto minister," Snape said. "Whether he likes it or not."

"What?" Harry spluttered.

"It was Dumbledore's request," Lupin said gently, and he put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You had appointed Arthur in your place."

Snape snorted but didn't say anything.

"But now Arthur Weasley is dead," Lupin continued after casting a scathing glare in Snape's direction. "And now once more the mantle of leadership rests on your shoulders. So, what do you want to do?"

A dozen pairs of eyes turned towards Harry, who gulped, but he looked at them steadily. He rose to his feet.

"I had, with your help, led the Order of the Phoenix until the successful elimination of Lord Voldemort. It looks as if it is time," and here Harry gave a mirthless smile. "I learned about the peace-time operations of our world, since I was, after all, the one picked. I ... I don't promise to be Dumbledore. No one can fill his shoes. But I will promise to do my best." He sighed. "I guess the first step is doing what we have always done in times such as these: we pick up the pieces, try to rebuild and try to move on, and in the process try to learn from our mistakes so history doesn't repeat itself...." But then his eye fell on Ron and Percy and their dead father, and Harry sighed again. He suddenly realized that for some, their lives have been too shattered, too many pieces removed, for them to ever be completely whole again.

"I guess we start in here, in the Ministry building itself," Harry continued quietly. "This is a good place to start as any. Then, I guess we just try to move on as best we can, like we always have."

-Finis-