In Nomine Amoris

Chapter Eight: The Ministry Threatened

"It means that those of, should we say, higher status in the Ministry believe the Minister of Magic to be dead."

Harry's eyes widened. "And it hasn't happened since...?"

"1953, when Minister Root died of some fatal Muggle disease. No one saw it coming, just found him dead in his bed, but the autopsy showed he hadn't been a victim of the Killing Curse."

The wheels in Harry's head began turning, something that was occurring more often. However, they were not given the chance to work their magic before everyone had entered the atrium.

"Harry!" Ron called from the lifted he and his father had just exited. He ran over to Harry and Moody, his father struggling to keep up with him.

Ron's forehead was creased in worry. "What's happened?"

"Rufus Scrimgeour must be dead!" cried a witch to Harry's left.

"No way..." Ron muttered in disbelief, just after the alarm had ceased repeating.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Dingle is quite correct," said a grim voice from behind him. The party of four turned to face a flustered Percy Weasley.

Perhaps 'flustered' was a poor description of Percy's state. His hair was positively wind-blown; it looked as if he had just dismounted a broomstick after a particularly strenuous flight. His eyes were wide open with shock, and a stain of what appeared to be coffee covered nearly the whole front of his shirt. Percy was clutching the offending mug in one hand, so tight his knuckles had turned white. In the other hand he held a large purple megaphone.

"Excuse me," he said in a dazed tone, pushing past them and the rest of the crowd to the atrium's main desk.

Percy climbed up on the desk so that all could see him. "Testing," he articulated into the megaphone. The sea of heads turned in his direction.

"Yes, well...on with it. At precisely 10:37 AM this morning, an interviewer from the Daily Prophet reported Minister Scrimgeour missing from his home on the Thames River, where he had scheduled a meeting with the interviewer. A team of Aurors was sent directly to his office and detected signs of a struggle. No body has been found as of yet.

"The investigators have issued the Black Alert for the entire wizarding community of Britain. If you have obtained any news of Minister Scrimgeour's current whereabouts in the past hour, we would greatly appreciate any information you can provide.

"In the meantime, all occupants of the Ministry of Magic are subject to a search by our security. We apologize for the inconvenience, but in a situation like this, safety is vital.

"So please, do cooperate with our staff for the time being. We are hoping to have the search done in no more than two hours"-the crowd groaned collectively-"and it's to you to quicken the process. Thank you."

Percy hopped off the desk and all but ran to a lift, handing his megaphone to a wizard wearing a security badge along the way.

"Any Aurors, past and present, are welcome to help in the security check..." the wizard requested in a bored voice. Moody left a shaken up Harry, Ron and Mr. Weasley to follow the instructions. "All right, if everyone would form five separate, single-file lines: one over by the fountain, one here in front of the desk..."

"Where have you been?" was becoming the most-asked question among the Weasley family, as was proven by Mrs. Weasley when Harry, Ron, and Mr. Weasley returned to the Burrow's kitchen five hours later. Hermione and Ginny wore expressions similar to hers, obviously wanting to communicate the same sentiment.

"I take it you've heard the news?" Mr. Weasley quipped sharply. The tension at the Ministry had affected him, making his temper shorter than usual. In fact, the entire room was tense. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny exchanged worried glances.

"Well, yes! It came over the wireless hours ago!" Mrs. Weasley screeched. "And I don't like that tone, Arthur," she added, reprimanding him.

"You know what, Molly?" he raised his voice. "I'm tired-tired of this whole war. More like sick, actually. I get enough to worry about at the office, now the Minister could be gone, and I don't need you to pressure me any further. It's driving me mad!" Mr. Weasley was panting from the effort of his words. He sat himself down at the kitchen table.

Mrs. Weasley had turned white with shock at her husband's outburst. She exhaled a shallow breath. Looking as exhausted as her husband, she ambled over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly.

"I'm tired, too," she said with a sigh, pressing her cheek against his. This act seemed to calm him somewhat. "How about a cup of tea?" she asked the room at large. Everyone nodded fervently.

Very soon, Mrs. Weasley's kettle was whistling with boiling water. The tea acted as a temporary panacea for everyone's stress. Harry vaguely remembered Ron once commenting that his mum would make some tea to cure everything, but had never understood it until now.

"They hardly gave us any information to go on," Mr. Weasley was saying. "You'd think they would at least tell us to keep our eyes peeled for Scrimgeour. I'm beginning to think they don't know much at all."

"And who did speak for the Ministry?" Mrs. Weasley asked curiously.

"Ah-one of the Minister's assistants." Mr. Weasley was avoiding mentioning Percy so as, Harry guessed, to prevent another flare from popping up in the conversation.

"Oh...maybe they should have picked someone more well-known and reputable to make the announcement," suggested Mrs. Weasley. "Then there would have been less confusion among the public. I'm assuming that's why you were so late?"

"Yes, so many people were looking for answers from Ministry representatives. No one was satisfied. It did seem that whoever had taken Scrimgeour was long gone from the Ministry. I do wonder who's done it, though? Had to have been someone on the inside. And obviously he or she is on You-Know-Who's side. Who else would threaten the Ministry like this?"

All were silent for awhile, taking the time to sip their tea. Harry pondered Mr. Weasley's words, and suddenly, he was struck with an idea-one so strange, so obscure, he was utterly surprised he had thought of it himself.

"What if Scrimgeour faked his own death?"

The Weasleys and Hermione whirled on Harry, bewildered looks on each of their faces. Ginny raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Really," Harry insisted, "what if he's trying to create chaos in the wizarding world?"

"But Harry," Hermione said cautiously, "why would he do such a thing? Wasn't he in charge of our whole government?"

"Exactly. He wants to throw us off...stop us from fighting Voldemort... Hey, Gin, do you have a copy of this month's Quibbler?"

"Um...yeah, Luna gave me one, but why-?"

"Just trust me on this," Harry assured her. Considering him oddly, Ginny hurried up the stairs to her room while the rest of them sat in silence. She returned quickly with the July issue of The Quibbler tucked under her arm. A picture of Scrimgeour was scowling at them from the cover.

"The Quibbler?" Mrs. Weasley said doubtfully. "Harry, I hardly think-"

"Mum, I think Harry's got a point," Ginny told her. "You'll see."

Harry took the magazine from Ginny and flipped through it to the article Luna had mentioned.

GRINDYLOW GROUND PLAN:

The Anti-War Path-Our Minister's Hidden Agenda

Rufus Scrimgeour has served as Great Britain's Minister of Magic for the past year. He is possibly one of the most reputable, likable Ministers ever to govern the country.

BUT IS HE?

Many of the public are beginning to smell something fishy about the man, and it's not because he ordered the salmon for lunch.

One citizen, who wishes to remain anonymous, tells us, "Ever since Scrimgeour came into office, my pet grindylow has been trying to escape its habitat. Coincidence? I think not." Anonymous reports that he wouldn't think much of it, had the grindylow not written a message on the side of its tank with algae, which reads "War must die, or you'll be fried."

Semi-Dark creatures everywhere have been acting strangely. A large group of hinky-punks were found on a garbage mound in Devon, planning an attack for a nearby wizarding apothecary provider. These events may seem a trivial matter, to the unaided eye, but our sources guarantee us otherwise.

Our sources also tell us that Minister Scrimgeour has been suspiciously absent for long periods of time. Could he be organizing these clandestine meetings of intended pandemonium? And could Britain's famed singing sorceress be helping him in this corrupt scheme?

Celestina Warbeck-

"Not Celestina!" Mrs. Weasley cried as she read her favorite vocalist's name. "She wouldn't do something like this."

Celestina Warbeck is possibly the sweetest voice to hit our world's charts to this day. Her reputation is strikingly spotless.

OR IS IT?

The wizarding world has been doubtful of Warbeck's intentions ever since she lashed out at Witch Weekly's regular feature columnist, Marianne Sloper, for implying that she was involved with the Weird Sisters' bass guitarist Donoghan Tremlett. While both Warbeck and Tremlett deny this claim, many eyewitness accounts affirm the truth in Sloper's insinuation.

In short, Warbeck has been known to have rough spots with the press, and therefore an interview with her was out of the question for this article. But the REAL question is, is she using her vocal powers for good, or for evil?

Patrick MacLaughlin of Loch Ness, Scotland, a renowned kelpie breeder, says his specimen have enjoyed listening to Warbeck's music for years. "They love it; I'm more than happy to oblige," MacLaughlin informs us. "But lately they've been outlandishly hostile. In fact, whenever I play Celestina's new single over the wireless, they grow entranced and try to run over the barricade surrounding the artificial lake I created for them."

MacLaughlin, among others of his sort of profession, is perplexed at the behavior of their creatures. Together, they have developed a theory that Scrimgeour and Warbeck have joined forces to foil our side's war effort attempts by means of bedlam, and the likelihood of this accusation is growing everyday, along with the number of its supporters.

"Preposterous," Mrs. Weasley brushed it off. "They don't have any real evidence, now, do they?"

"But Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione slowly, "what if at least part of this is true? Like Scrimgeour's plots against our war effort?"

"It has possibility," Mr. Weasley agreed. "But the article is too bizarre for anyone to believe. Anyone who matters, anyway," he added sadly.

Everyone sighed. "I'd better start dinner," Mrs. Weasley resolved. "Did you get to eat at the Ministry?"

"No," Ron said bitterly. "Some rubbish about someone possibly having poisoned the food there. They were really touchy about anything that could 'jeopardize our health'...it was weird."

"All right, you can take a roll," she offered, opening a cupboard.

"Only a roll? But I'm starving, Mum!" Ron retorted.

"I don't want you to spoil your dinner," said Mrs. Weasley sternly.

Ron took the roll from his mother, grumbling about it not being his fault. Harry watched Hermione follow Ron into the living room, probably to weasel some more information out of him. He turned to Ginny rather than following his friends, knowing she would also want to know what happened in greater detail.

"Can we go up to your room?" she suggested to him after he received his own roll from Mrs. Weasley.

"Sure," he replied, and they ascended the stairs together.

Within minutes, Harry had told Ginny everything that happened that day at the Ministry, including Moody's gift, which lay nearly forgotten in his jacket pocket. Ginny was shocked when she learned that Percy had made the announcement.

"He must've been positively frazzled! Scrimgeour's his hero," Ginny said. "And I'm very surprised he even acknowledged any of the family. He's been so distant for so long, I thought he might've forgotten us for good. He's trying to; I can tell. During Bill's whole wedding, he never spoke a word. Not one!"

"I know," Harry agreed. "But I think it shows a lot about the Ministry, given he was their spokesperson."

"What does it show?" she inquired, puzzled.

"They're not ready for this. The war's changing everything; of course there's a chance someone would abduct Scrimgeour-he's Minister! Even if he's anti-war like I've imagined, he's still in danger. What if he decided to take off before the other side could find him, like we suppose Ollivander did last year? That's it, Ginny-there are too many what ifs."

"If what you say is true-that the Ministry isn't ready-then where does that put us?" asked Ginny nervously.

"I don't know, but wherever it is, it's not a good place," Harry assessed darkly.

Abruptly, a loud knock sounded on the front door of the Burrow. "Who could that be?" Ginny said incredulously. "We aren't expecting any of the Order tonight."

Harry put a hand into his right pocket, pulling out his wand. "Let's check it out."