Harry Potter and the Scar of Fate

Chapter 7

Hickory Dickory Dock

Harry lay thinking in his bed. Should he have helped Voldemort? No, his plan was wrong; it was evil. He was killing people. True, they were not good people, and they did deserve Azkaban, but killing them, that too, so mercilessly, no, it wasn't good. He was sure that he had taken the right decision. He wondered if he should tell Dumbledore about it. Nah, later, he thought to himself, and went back to sleep.

He woke up with a start. Dobby was bending over him.

"Harry Potter, sir, my old little master is looking for you. He is worried that you didn't turn up for breakfast."

"Thanks, Dobby. Tell him I'll come out in a few minutes."

"Is Harry Potter not feeling well, sir? You is looking as if you had a fever."

"I think I'm ok, Dobby. Thanks for caring, though."

"Harry Potter is too kind. Will Harry Potter let Dobby check if he has fever?"

"Go ahead, Dobby," Harry said, causing the elf's eyes to leak with happiness. Dobby placed a cool finger on his forehead.

"Dobby is right, Harry Potter. You is having a high fever. Dobby will inform Madam Pomfrey." Dobby vanished before Harry could stop him. Harry got up and dressed quickly. He was feeling rather ill.

As soon as he entered the Great Hall, Draco came to him.

"You ok, Harry?"

"Yeah."

Draco didn't ask for permission before putting his fingers to Harry's forehead.

"You've got a fever. Come to the hospital wing."

"No."

No one could counter him when he commanded like that. Draco fell silent. Harry stayed quiet for sometime, declining the food which Draco had offered. He saw Draco looking at him solicitously, and felt guilty. He asked the blonde if he'd like to take a walk around the lake. Draco agreed, and the two friends walked out. Harry related the previous day's experience to Draco, who gasped in surprise.

"But half of them are Death Eaters!" Draco exclaimed.

"Yeah, but they're not loyal to him. They're merely with him for power, and suit their own purposes when he sends them for raids. And the people in the ministry he's told me about..."

"Bloody traitors!"

"You're right, no doubt. But what can we do?"

"Let's tell Dumbledore about this, Harry. It's important. You were awfully brave, you know."

Harry coloured a little at this. He knew Draco was earnest, and not flattering him. He abhorred publicity, but genuine appreciation from his friends always pleased him. He gave Draco a smile and motioned for him to follow. Soon they were sitting in Dumbledore's office, who though welcomed them with twinkling eyes, became very serious when Harry finished his narrative.

"What do you suggest we do, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Nothing."

"Very well. We shall sit and wait, and let Voldemort do our dirty job. And pray, what will happen after he's 'cleansed' the place of traitors?"

"I didn't say we'd let him do our dirty job, sir. I asked you to do nothing. Just leave it to me."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Harry. I cannot allow you to take up more burdens on your shoulders. I'll tell you my opinion, and then we can decide what to do."

Harry nodded. Dumbledore smiled at him and said, "I think it's time we got a new minister. A minister who understands what's right and what's wrong and does not rely on bogus evidences."

Harry nodded again. "Mr. Weasley," he said.

"Exactly. Then these traitors can be charged, trials conducted, and the guilty sent to Azkaban. I don't know if the place will hold without the Dementors, though."

"I'll bring them back, sir," Harry stood up, "you shall see the Dementors in their old place by tomorrow."

He left the office, leaving Dumbledore and Draco open mouthed. As he walked up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, he saw a rat trying to climb his leg. He picked it up and then threw it down in disgust.

"Show yourself, Wormtail, I know it's you."

A short, balding wizard with watery eyes stood in place of the rat.

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

"Save me, Harry. Save me from my master. He wants to kill me. I'll - I'll give you important information in return. I'll tell you where the Dementors are."

"The Dementors are in the Black Forest, three miles away from Little Hangleton."

"How did - how did you know?"

"I have my sources, Wormtail. I can send you to a place where Voldemort can't find you on one condition. You'll confess your crimes and clear Sirius."

"Where will you send me?"

"Azkaban."

***

The next morning, the Daily Prophet proclaimed that the late Sirius Black, previously convicted of being a Death Eater and betraying the Potters, was cleared of all charges posthumously. It went to say how bravely Sirius had met his death fighting Death Eaters at the ministry. Harry read the news calmly and walked back to his dormitory, where he threw himself upon his pillow and sobbed for an hour. Then he stood up and wiped his eyes. He had to go to the Dementors.