Alastor Moody

What do you, guys, think about Moody? I don't really like him, I think he is scary, mean and too unsympathetic (I'm not sure if there is a word like that, it's from google translate). Idk why. Like when Hermione cried for him I was like "why are you crying??? he was just an ugly man with no personality". I know he is a good character and in most cases I like almost all good characters, but Moody... I don't like him and Idk why. What about you?

Chapter 3: Assignments (Part 2)

James had certainly been in the Hog's Head Inn before. Not by choice, per say, more out of necessity for a change of pace. They had arrived in room 203 ten minutes early–Lily and Remus's doing–and within the past five minutes of mindless waiting, James reaffirmed his distasteful assumptions. The room could only be described as grey: dark furniture with a healthy layer of dust rested on creaky wooden floors that may have been brown at one point, though you would have a tough time convincing anyone of that. Even the scant decorations were dreary with a black and white landscape hanging tilted on one wall and an empty vase of flowers beside the bed. Even when the room filled with the three additional voices of Peter, Dorcas, and Marlene, it still felt as gloomy as a funeral home, though that may also be because for some inexorable reason, they all determined it best to keep their voices no louder than a whisper.

So when Moody came barging in, throwing the door wide open and announcing in his loud, growling voice, "Follow me"... well, suffice to say it was a startling surprise. Though with a shared look of apprehension, they did just that with no thoughts of disobeying or questioning.

They marched unceremoniously from the room and down a flight of rickety steps. If anyone in the restaurant below thought it odd to see a string of teenagers following a man wearing a trenchcoat in summer, they refused to show it. In fact, not a single person looked up from their drinks except for the barkeeper who nodded covertly at Moody as they passed.

When they reached the street, instead of turning towards Hogsmeade, Moody turned towards the outskirts of the village and strode towards the edge of the path where the gravel road faded away into dirt, then grass. But he didn't stop there; he kept going until the patches of grass disappeared into the shadow of the nearby mountain and then the shadow of the forest.

"Sir? Where exactly are we going?" Sirius eventually asked as he ducked below a branch.

"If there was a name for it, it would be too well-known, wouldn't it?" Moody replied evasively, his bright blue eye whizzing in its socket to peer out of one corner at him.

"We can name it a bloody inconvenience, that's for sure," Remus muttered from somewhere behind James who stifled a laugh.

Whatever name they eventually chose for their training location, the location itself ended up being a clearing in the midst of the woods at the base of the mountain. The tree cover was so thick and the rocky terrain so tall that James questioned how the grass beneath their feet could get enough sunlight to grow, even at the height of noon. Sensing their predicament, Moony had apparently brought a series of lanterns that gave off a pale, warm light and when they arrived at the clearing, he instantly used his wand to send them hovering in a vague circle along the tree edge.

With their circle of light in place, Moody turned around abruptly and clapped his hands together once.

"Right then! This clearing has all of the protective charms that you can imagine to keep us well-hidden except for an anti-apparition jinx, so now that you know where to go, you are to apparate here every evening for training. It goes without saying that this clearing is one of those secrets not to be shared with anyone outside of this group, understood?"

He stared squarely at James, Sirius, and Remus for a second each, waiting for them in particular to nod in turn before he continued on.

"Pair up. Today we see what you're made of."

Dorcas, Lily, James, and Peter lined up on one side, facing Marlene, Remus, and Sirius on the other while Moody stood behind the group of three. Marlene started to turn around in order to see Moody, but he quickly motioned for her to face Dorcas instead.

"The point of me standing here is for you not to see me!" he shouted as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. Marlene blushed scarlet but found some solace in Dorcas's grinning eye roll.

"Behind you three, I will write a spell, curse, jinx, hex, whatever in the air for the group of four to see. Then I will randomly light up my wand and when I do so, you are to fire the appropriate spell at your partner who will have to block it without knowing what is coming or when it is coming. Yes, Black. You have a question?"

"Er… yeah. How does the odd number of people work out exactly? 'Cause right now, it looks like James and Peter are both aiming for me…"

Moody chuckled, a grin lighting up his features. "That is quite the dilemma you are in, isn't it? Now then, ready to begin?"

Sirius furrowed his brow, his confusion no less satisfied than before, but he faced his two opponents nonetheless, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. James grinned back at him, twirling his wand, while Peter sucked on his lower lip nervously, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see what the three on his right were doing.

James craned his neck to see around Sirius at what Moody was writing and saw, in fiery red letters, the words: leg-locking. Then, without waiting a heartbeat after he finished the last letter, a glowing orb appeared at the end of Moody's wand and James quickly fired the nonverbal jinx at Sirius. Peter muttered "Locomotor Mortis" a second later, but both spells bounced neatly off of Sirius's simple shield spell.

Looking further down the row, James was pleased to find that no one was hobbling around with their legs tied together. So far, they seemed to be at least meeting Moody's expectations. Though, that really was too early to judge.

The spells Moody demanded got more and more difficult, some requiring nonverbal incantations while others required precise wrist movements. Some had to be recognized by the defender as powerful enough to break through the simple defensive enchantments, and those who didn't realize this in time, found themselves subject to various hexes and jinxes. Once everyone was breathing heavily and their nerves felt stretched thin, Moody called for a small break before they repeated the exercise, but now in opposite teams.

And so, the evening stretched on and James grew increasingly grateful for the lanterns that Moody had strung up when they had arrived. If it weren't for those, they would have been plunged into pure darkness by now, making the entire test that much more difficult.

"Not a bad base to work from for the most part," Moody announced once the offensive side had finished their turn playing the defensive role. "But now the real work begins."

Peter groaned softly from beside him and James watched as Sirius grabbed onto his shoulder, giving him a reassuring shake.

"Apparate here tomorrow at the same time. From here on out, anytime you step foot within this clearing, assume that I could try to attack you and you need to be ready to defend yourself."

James sucked in a breath at the ominous announcement and from the back of the group, he watched as everyone drew themselves a bit taller.

"That may sound harsh, cruel, crazy, doesn't matter. Call it what you want and guarantee I've heard it before and then some. But it works. And if you want to stay alive, you need constant vigilance. That is one of the things that I will be trying to instill in you and the best way to do that is to practice it constantly. Everytime you leave your home, everytime you go out, be observant. Be careful. Be prepared." He looked at each of them in turn before grunting, "Off you go."

Moody raised two fingers to his forehead, giving them a small salute before he flicked his wrist and the lanterns went black. A second later, they heard a quiet pop and Moody was gone, though they could no longer see anything to make sure of it.

"See you all tomorrow, I guess," Marlene said. A second pop and she was gone too.

With exhausted goodbyes from them all, they disappeared one by one. James landed just outside the small gate of the Potter Manor and held it open for Sirius and Lily who arrived moments after him. They trooped into the house, heading instantly for the kitchen without saying a word. Too tired to cook and it being too late to ask Missy to make something for them, James grabbed the milk and they all enjoyed a bowl of late night cereal.

"Well, I am exhausted and will be sleeping in tomorrow."

"You always sleep in, Padfoot," James laughed.

"I'm just saying, don't plan on seeing me until well into the afternoon."

"I'll be up. I'm going to start a batch of potions tomorrow morning," Lily added, grabbing all of their empty bowls and heading to the sink.

"I don't envy you," Sirius said, stretching his back as he leaned off of the counter.

Lily shot him a confused look over her shoulder. "I thought you were jealous that they gave me something else to do."

"I was, but that was before I knew how tired I would be."

"Fair enough. Just as long as you're up in time for day two of Moody's training."

"I will be," he promised. "See you tomorrow afternoon."

James shook his head ruefully and muttered goodnight as Sirius passed, waiting for Lily before they headed upstairs together, hand in hand. When they reached his bedroom door, he tugged her into his chest and leaned down to kiss her, his heart still skipping a beat when their lips met. The familiar tingles ran down his arms and he knew that no matter how many times they kissed, no matter how long they were together, the thrill would never fade away.

"I love you, you know that?" Lily murmured.

James grinned and lay a gentle kiss at her hairline. "I know. And I love you." He fumbled behind him for a moment, searching for the door handle and was about to suggest she stay the night in his bed, when the door down the hall creaked open.

"James? Is that you?" His father's whisper echoed against the walls, his voice still thick with sleep.

He sighed. "Yeah, Dad. We just got home."

"Just now? Why did they keep you so late? What were you doing?"

James heard him step further outside and shut the door behind him. This was going in the opposite direction as he had hoped.

"I can't tell you, Dad. You know that."

Even in the dark, James knew the sound of his father's frown and this silence was definitely it.

"Right. Well you tell them not to keep you out so late next time."

"Sure. I'll tell them," he said, lightly enough to imply that there was less of a chance of that happening as Voldemort marrying a muggleborn.

"Good. Get some rest. I'm sure you're exhausted."

"Yeah, we're heading to bed now."

"All right. Well good night, then."

" 'Night, Dad," James sighed, but his lips quirked into a smile when he heard Lily giggle lightly and she pressed her forehead against his chest in embarrassment.

"Have I mentioned we really need our own place?"

"Yes. Yes, you have." She pressed her lips against his once more then started to slowly walk backwards until their arms were fully outstretched yet they were still holding hands. "Good night, James."

He smiled and let her hands slip from his fingers. "Good night, Lils."

Chapter 3: Assignments (Part 3)

Sirius sighed happily, stretching out on the dusty wooden floors as if it were a bed of feathers. "I'm so glad you decided, Moony."

"Let's just hope I don't regret it," Remus replied, walking slowly around their new kitchen, letting his hand trail on the simple tiled island.

"Either way, it's ours! We're real adults now, free to do what we please."

"Have you ever done anything except exactly what you pleased?"

"Occasionally. Only when that little nagging voice in my head was being too persistent."

Remus chuckled and turned back around, seeing Sirius now making snow angels in the thin layer of dust. "Get off the floor, Padfoot. That's disgusting."

He sighed wistfully. "There's the voice."

Thoroughly ignoring him, Remus flicked his wand and the dust disappeared. Soon, the dust was slicked clear from the kitchen surfaces, the windows, and the single ratty couch that the old owners kindly left for them–or were too scared to get rid of based on the state of it. The faded green fabric looked like it might disintegrate upon touch.

"Come help me clean out our two bedrooms before my parents and the Potters come with our things," Remus said, walking down the short hall where two bedrooms and a single bathroom lay waiting for them.

"I don't exactly please to!" Sirius called after him, already sitting up.

"Then I get first dibs!"

Instantly, Sirius jumped to his feet and raced after Remus. "I'm coming!"

"What are they doing up there?" Lily asked with an amused smile as they heard loud footsteps pound down the hallway above them.

"I no longer care," James announced.

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"Because the only thing that seems to matter right now is the marvelous fact that I get to live with you, Miss Evans." James smirked, walking towards Lily who was standing in the middle of their small living room.

She turned from the fireplace and grinned sheepishly. "I'm pretty sure I've been living with you at your parents' place for a little bit now."

James shook his head, taking her hands in his and rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her palms. "That does not count in the slightest. I love my parents, but they don't really help with the romance."

"I don't think we'll have much time for romance with training and potion making and eventually we'll have missions on top of that and–"

"Not with that attitude we won't," James murmured, leaning forward to kiss her gently.

She smiled against him and muttered, "I suppose I can make time."

He kissed her again, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her closer against his chest. "How generous of you."

She smiled again but her brain could not seem to fathom a response. Her mind was entirely focused on the tingles that James had sent racing down her limbs as the kiss deepened. She grabbed onto the front of his t-shirt and pulled him forward as she stumbled backwards until her back hit the kitchen island. With barely a pause, Lily pushed herself onto the island and wrapped her legs around James' whose hands found themselves resting on her thighs. His fingers traced under the hem of her shorts and her stomach erupted in a swarm of butterflies.

"Oi! Lovebirds!" A knock shattered their blissful silence, knocking them out of their own private world. "They're here!"

James sighed and rested his forehead against Lily's. "Why did we think living below Padfoot was a good idea?"

"You tell me," Lily said, lying one more kiss against his lips before ducking under his arm onto her feet. She walked backwards towards the front door with a teasing smirk dancing across her lips. "But what did I tell you? There's hardly any time for romance."

"Oh, I'll make time."

Sirius's voice came through the door. "Stop your snogging and get out here!"

Lily threw open the door which Sirius was apparently leaning against and he stumbled into their living room as she walked past, completely unphased. "Good afternoon, Sirius."

James grinned as Sirius righted himself in front of him. "So dramatic, as ever."

"Oh, shove it," Sirius laughed as James walked past him. "But you were snogging, weren't you?"

Turning to face him, the familiar mischievous light dancing in his eyes, he replied, "Obviously."

The afternoon was then filled with flying furniture and parents surreptitiously wiping their eyes and the new leasers hurrying their families out when the day started to drag into the evening and they had to prepare for their training. When the front door was shut behind the Potters at last, James and Lily stood side by side, staring at the door in the silence that seemed to bounce around their flat.

Their flat.

They had their own flat.

Well, 'own' plus Sirius who didn't seem to realize that front doors were not meant to be barged in through. Yet, that is precisely what he did without so much as a knock.

"Ready for training?" he asked as a greeting. Remus was rolling his eyes in the background, refusing to step over the threshold without being invited in.

"Yes, we're ready," Lily replied, scooping up her wand from their small and slightly lopsided kitchen table James' Mom had bought from a friend.

"We can't be late. I don't want to see what Moody makes us do if we're even a second past five," James added. Before he shut the front door behind their group, he peered into the flat once more.

The furniture was sparse and unorganized. Their things were in boxes against the walls. Half of the kitchen appliances needed to be fixed. Yet it was home. Their home that they were renting with money from their own jobs.

Though his blissful smile was wiped off of his face as soon as he landed in the clearing that Remus had dubbed "the Inconvenience" because when James opened his eyes, he saw Moody with his wand pointing straight at him. A stream of freezing cold water showered over him and with his wand safely stowed in his back pocket, James was powerless to do anything but stand there and be glad he was wearing glasses to keep the water out of his eyes.

The stream of water ended, leaving a dripping James Potter glaring straight ahead while his friends, all of whom were lucky enough to not apparate next to him, stifled their laughter behind their hands.

"Constant vigilance, Potter!" Moody said with satisfaction. "Never apparate into an unknown area without your wand ready."

Moody turned on his heel to face the rest of the group, hands clasped behind his back, while James fished his wand out of his jeans and dried himself. He approached his friends and muttered, "Not a word" while the rest carefully arranged their faces into looks of compassion.

Four hours in and sweat had built up on each of their foreheads despite the cool night air. Their jackets all lay in a pile to one side and it was with no small amount of relief that James dropped his wand arm when Moody called them to a stop after hours of practice duels in every pair imaginable. They practiced in assigned groups in various assortments of one-on-ones, two-on-twos, one-on-twos and more while Moody and the rest watched. After one side "defeated" the other or the duel went on for long enough, Moody would call a pause to give them pointers, alter their stances, offer corrections, criticisms, and ever so rarely, a possible compliment. Suffice to say, they were each exhausted and ready to collapse on the nearest surface to sleep for as long as allowed.

But when Moody called the entire group towards him for a closing announcement, James' exhaustion seeped out of him and excitement rushed in.

"Starting next week, you will each be given a few small assignments. Mind you, these are information gathering assignments only. You are not to engage in any magic whatsoever. But essentially, Dumbledore has predicted that Voldemort will soon be turning his attention to the Ministry. We need to find out what we can about what influence he already has and where he might be looking to make his next move. The seven of you are perfect candidates for this because anyone your age could be looking for an intro job at the Ministry."

Moody dug around in his coat pocket until he was holding up a small stack of envelopes. "In my hand, I have separate assignments for each of you with different departments or jobs you are to apply for and people you must get an interview with, as well as what kind of information you should be after. Your homework tonight is to read these envelopes and start getting ideas for how you would get the information out of people without them ever being the wiser. That being said, tomorrow's training will be far less hands-on. We will go over what techniques to use on weedling information out of even the most tight-lipped of people, yet that is a long way off of being useful. You first have to do what you would be doing if there was not a war going on right now. Does anyone know what I mean?"

After a beat of silence, Lily answered. "Make resumes?"

Moody grinned. "Precisely. That is your second homework assignment. Make your resumes and make them well. If this is to work without arousing any suspicion, your resumes and interviews must be as realistic as you can make them. Any questions?"

"I have one," Remus said quickly. "Are we allowed to tell each other about what our assignment is?"

"Ah, Dumbledore said one of you would ask that. All of that information will be found within your envelopes as well. Here is yours, Mr. Lupin." Remus walked forward to collect his envelope and he stared through the parchment as if he could see the words printed inside it. When all of the letters were passed out, Moody gave them a curt nod and disappeared, the lights going out with him.

Too tired to offer much in ways of good-byes, the trainees all disapparated a moment later and James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius headed dolefully towards their flat from the alley near the trash bins. They paused at the ground level front door and glanced uncertainly at each other.

"Well… I guess we should open these on our own, then," Remus said, holding up his own letter. "We don't really know how secretive we have to be about it."

"I'll tell you whatever I'm allowed to," James promised.

"Same," agreed Sirius.

"Let's read them tonight and we can go over everything tomorrow morning with breakfast," said Lily.

"See you tomorrow," Remus murmured, already heading up the stairs.

"See ya," Sirius added, following close behind.

James sighed and slung an arm around Lily's waist as she opened the door to their flat. "Dumbledore better not expect us to keep any big secrets. I feel like that's not a great way to build a relationship."

"Either way, I trust you completely. Any secrets he wants us to keep is for a good reason so it won't be a reflection of our relationship."

"That's true. But if I know what you're doing, I'll be less worried about you."

Lily smiled as James curled his arm around her waist tighter and kissed the top of her head. "I'll always worry about you."

"And I'll always worry about you," James sighed. "I guess that's part of the job."

"Guess so…"

James hastily unwrapped his arms from Lily and clapped his hands, making Lily jump at the sound. "Well. This envelope is not going to open itself. Let's see what boring job I'll be applying to." He collapsed onto their sofa and tore open his envelope.

She watched him read whatever was written on it, trying to gauge how excited or miserable he was by the assignment from the back of his head. Meanwhile, she leaned against the kitchen island and carefully slit hers open too, a mixture of excitement and nervousness racing through her core.

1. Moody's Magical Eye

In GoF, there are numerous instances in which we see what Moody's magical eye is capable of doing. Barty Crouch Jr., disguised as Moody, was able to see through solid wood, and Harry's invisibility cloak, which is supposed to be impenetrable. Also, if i recall correctly, didn't he see through Harry's robes and compliment his socks during the Yule Ball? So, if Moody's eye can see through all these things, does that mean that, to Moody, everyone looked like they weren't wearing any clothes? That's a really weird thought that has been bothering me for a long time, and I really want to know the answer. Another somewhat related question I had was, how did both the normal eye and the magical eye work at the same time? For us, both eyes function at the same time, but since for him, each eye had a different function, I was wondering how that would work.

2. Owls and Tracking

In OotP, Harry sent an owl to Ron and Hermione while they were at OotP headquarters. Despite the building being protected by the Fidelius Charm, Hedwig was able to reach Ron and Hermione without any trouble. Even in other instances, letters that were sent by owl post effortlessly reached their destination, without the sender having any idea of where the receiver was. From this, I've come to the conclusion that owls can track anyone, anywhere. So why couldn't the Death Eaters in Book 7 simply have sent letters to the people they were looking for, and then set some kind of tracking spell on the owls? Or even simpler: they could've just grabbed broomsticks and followed the owls. This probably wouldn't have worked if the destination of a letter was protected by the Fidelius Charm, but they still could've caught a fair number of people using this method. So why didn't they? Why did they have to resort to less effective measures like Snatchers and the Voldemort taboo?

Bonus question: do any of you have a random side character that you hyperfixate on for no reason at all and come up with a ton of headcanons for in your head? Mine would probably be Oliver Wood; I don't know why, but I've cooked up a whole backstory for him.

I would really appreciate it if someone knew the answers for these questions!

If we assume his middle knuckle is about an inch.. Moody has about a 5 and half inch wand... up to about 8 maximum if we take fore shortening into account..

Ollivander would say that's unusually short, somewhat like Umbridge.

Theories on why Moody had such a short wand?

Was mad-eye in ravenclauw? (i am trying to find teacher who was in ravenclauw)

These are the best three characters from Hufflepuff

Cedric-died straight away, didn't get into his personality much.

Tonks-had basically no lines in movies, underrated.

Mad eye Moody -no one even knows he's Hufflepuff!

To think jk Rowling is actually Hufflepuff.

In goblet of fire, when Ron is telling mad-eye about the imperius curse in defense against the dark arts, mad-eye says something like, "oh your father would know about that." or something.

That got me thinking....what did arthur do that made him so aware of imperio? just out of general curiosity.

Previous Chapters:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003804769

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003805533

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003806102

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003806803

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003808304

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003810956

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003811902

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003814653

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003816806

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003819557

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003821422

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@SaphireStark @Missy Clara Oswald @CatsAndRoblox @Pervaza972

Chapter Twelve: The Muggle-born Registration Commission

‘Ah, Mafalda!’ said Umbridge, looking at Allison. ‘Travers sent you, did he?’

‘Er-yes,’ said Allison, entering actor mode.

‘Good, you’ll do perfectly well,’ Umbridge spoke to the wizard in black and gold. ‘That’s that problem solved, Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway,’ she consulted her clipboard. ‘Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee!! Tut, tut…even here, in the heart of the Ministry! Ms Wakefield, did you have anything to do Mrs Cattermole getting caught?’

‘Um-a little,’ said Tracey, very hesitantly.

‘Then I insist you come too,’ said Umbridge cheerfully. ‘Although since you’re applying to testify against the accused late you’ll have to wait until the main arguments have already been made for and against.’

She stepped into the lift beside Allison, as did the two wizards who had been listening to Umbridge’s conversation with the Minister.

‘We’ll go straight down, Mafalda, and you’ll find everything you need in the courtroom,’ she then spotted Harry. ‘Good morning, Albert, aren’t you getting out?’

'Yes, of course,' said Harry in Mr Runcorn’s deep voice.

Harry stepped out of the lift. The golden grilles clanged shut behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, Harry saw his best friend and girlfriend sinking back out of sight, trapped with one of, if not the most, evil women Harry knew.

'What brings you up here, Runcorn?' asked the new Minister of Magic. His long black hair and beard were streaked with silver, and a great overhanging forehead shadowed his glinting eyes, putting Harry in mind of a crab looking out from beneath a rock.

'Needed a quick word with,' Harry hesitated for a fraction of a second, 'Arthur Weasley. Someone said he was up on level one.'

'Ah,' said Pius Thickness. 'Has he been caught having contact with an Undesirable?'

'No,' said Harry, his throat dry. 'No, nothing like that.'

'Ah, well. It’s only a matter of time,' said Thicknesse. 'If you ask me, the blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods. Good day, Runcorn.'

‘Good day, Minister.’

Harry watched Thicknesse march away along the thickly carpeted corridor. The moment the Minister had passed out of sight, Harry tugged the Invisibility Cloak out from under his heavy black cloak, threw it over himself, and set off along the corridor in the opposite direction. Allison’s father was so tall that Harry was forced to stoop to make sure his big feet were hidden.

Panic pulsed in the pit of his stomach. As he passed gleaming wooden door after gleaming wooden door, each bearing a small plaque with the owner’s name and occupation upon it, the might of the Ministry, its complexity, its impenetrability, seemed to force itself upon him so that the plan he had been carefully concocting with his friends over the past four weeks seemed laughably childish. They had concentrated all their efforts on getting inside without being detected. They had not given a moment’s thought to what they would do if they were forced to separate. Now Allison was stuck in court proceedings, and Tracey now had to potentially doom a Muggle-born or risk getting caught, which both would undoubtedly last hours; Theodore had to find a floor he had never been to and do some potentially complicated magic, and all three of their actions effected an innocent woman’s liberty; and he, Harry, disguised as his girlfriend’s evil father, was wandering around on the top floor when he knew perfectly well that has quarry had just gone down in the lift.

He stopped walking, leaned against a wall, and tried to decide what to do. The silence pressed upon him: There was no bustling or talk or swift footsteps here; the purple-carpeted corridors were as hushed as though the Muffliato charm had been cast over the place.

Her office must be up here, Harry thought.

It seemed most unlikely that Umbridge would keep her jewelry in her office, but on the other hand it seemed foolish not to search it to make sure. He therefore set off along the corridor again, passing nobody but a frowning wizard who was murmuring instructions to a quill that floated in front of him, scribbling on a trail of parchment.

Now paying attention to the names on the doors, Harry turned a corner. Halfway along the next corridor he emerged into a wide open space where a dozen witches and wizards sat in rows at small desks not unlike school desks, though much more highly polished and free from graffiti. Harry paused to watch them, for the effect was quite mesmerizing. They were all waving and twiddling their wands in unison, and squares of coloured paper were flying in every direction like little pink kites. After a few seconds, Harry realized that there was a rhythm to the proceedings, that the papers all formed the same pattern, and after a few more seconds he realized that what he was watching was the creation of pamphlets—that the paper squares were pages, which, when assembled, folded, and magicked into place, fell into neat stacks beside each witch or wizard.

Harry crept closer, although the workers were so intent on what they were doing that he doubted they would notice a carpet-muffled footstep, and he slid a completed pamphlet from the pile beside a young witch. He examined it beneath the Invisibility Cloak. Its pink cover was emblazoned with a golden title:

"MUDBLOODS

and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society"

Beneath the title was a picture of a red rose with a simpering face in the middle of its petals, being strangled by a green weed with fangs and a scowl. There was no author’s name upon the pamphlet, but again, the scars on the back of his right hand seemed to tingle as he examined it. Then the young witch beside him confirmed his suspicion as she said, still waving and twirling her wand, 'Will the old hag be interrogating Mudbloods all day, does anyone know?'

'Careful,' said the wizard beside her, glancing around nervously; one of his pages slipped and fell to the floor.

'What, has she got magic ears as well as an eye, now?'

The witch glanced toward the shining mahogany door facing the space full of pamphlet-makers; Harry looked too, and rage reared in him like a snake. Where there might have been a peephole on a Muggle front door, a large, round eye with a bright blue iris had been set into the wood—an eye that was shockingly familiar to anybody who had known Alastor Moody.

For a split second Harry forgot where he was and what he was doing there: He even forgot that he was invisible. He strode straight over to the door to examine the eye. It was not moving: It gazed blindly upward, frozen. The plaque beneath it read:

"Dolores Umbridge

Senior Undersecretary to the Minister"

Below that, a slightly shinier new plaque read:

"Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission"

Harry looked back at the dozen pamphlet-makers: Though they were intent upon their work, he could hardly suppose that they would not notice if the door of an empty office opened in front of them. He therefore withdrew from an inner pocket an odd object with little waving legs and a rubber-bulbed horn for a body. Crouching down beneath the cloak, he placed the Decoy Detonator on the ground.

It scuttled away at once through the legs of the witches and wizards in front of him. A few moments later, during which Harry waited with his hand upon the doorknob, there came a long band and a great deal of acrid black smoke billowed from a corner. The young witch in the front row shrieked: Pink pages flew everywhere as she and her fellows jumped up, looking around for the source of the commotion. Harry turned the doorknob, stepped into Umbridge’s office, and closed the door behind him.

He felt he had stepped back in time. The room was exactly like Umbridge’s office at Hogwarts: Lace draperies, doilies, and dried flowers covered every available surface. The walls bore the same ornamental plates, each featuring a highly colored, beribboned kitten, gamboling and frisking with a sickening cuteness. The desk was covered with a flouncy, flowered cloth. Behind Mad-Eye’s eye, a telescopic attachment enabled Umbridge to spy on the workers on the other side of the door. Harry took a look through it and saw that they were all still gathered around the Decoy Detonator. He wrenched the telescope out of the door, leaving a hole behind, pulled the magical eyeball out of it, and placed it in his pocket. Then he turned to face the room again, raised his wand, and murmured, 'Accio locket.'

Nothing happened, but he had not expected it to; no doubt Umbridge knew all about protective charms and spells. He therefore hurried behind her desk and began pulling open drawers. He saw quills and notebooks and Spellotape; enchanted paper clips that coiled snakelike from their drawer and had to be beaten back; a sloppy little lace box full of spare hair bows and clips; but no sign of a locket.

There was a filing cabinet behind the desk: Harry set to searching it. Like Filch’s filing cabinets at Hogwarts, it was full of folders, each labeled with a name. It was not until Harry reached the bottommost drawer that he saw something that distracted him from his search: Mr Weasley’s file.

He pulled it out and opened it.

"Arthur Weasley

Blood Status:

Pureblood, but with unacceptable pro-Muggle leanings. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Family:

Wife (pureblood), seven children, two youngest at Hogwarts.

Security Status:

TRACKED. All movements are being monitored. Moderate likelihood Undesirable No. 1 will contact (has stayed with Weasley family previously)".

'Undesirable Number One,' Harry muttered under his breath as he replaced Mr Weasley’s folder, then a scary thought entered his head. 'If they have a file on Mr Weasley than—'

Quickly he went through the L's, dishearteningly he found what he feared very quickly.

"Remus Lupin

Blood Status:

Half-breed, born Half-blood with a muggle mother, but became a Half-breed at age five. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Family:

Husband (pureblood)(deceased), three adoptive children, one underage Half-breed and two Undesirables including Undesirable No. 1.

Security Status:

TRACKED. All movements are being monitored. Extreme likelihood Undesirable No. 1 will contact (Half-breed is only adoptive parent left.)"

Angry and scared, Harry shut the drawer. As he straightened up and glanced around the office for fresh hiding places, he saw a poster of himself on the wall, with the words "Undesirable No. 1" emblazoned across his chest. A little pink note was stuck to it with a picture of a kitten in the corner. Harry moved across to read it and saw that Umbridge had written, 'To be punished.'

Angrier than ever, he proceeded to grope in the bottoms of the vases and baskets of dried flowers, but was not at all surprised that the locket was not there. He gave the office one last sweeping look and his heart skipped a beat. Dumbledore was staring at him from a small rectangular mirror, propped up on a bookcase beside the desk.

Harry crossed the room and snatched it up, but realized the moment he touched it that it was not a mirror at all. Dumbledore was smiling wistfully out of the front cover of a glossy book, Harry had not immediately noticed the curly green writing across his hat—"The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore"—nor the slightly smaller writing across his chest: "by Rita skeeter, bestselling author of Armando Dippet: Master or Moron?”

Harry opened the book at random and saw a full-page photograph of two teenage boys, both laughing immoderately with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Dumbledore, now with elbow-length hair, had grown a tiny wispy beard that recalled the one on Krum’s chin. The boy who roared in silent amusement beside Dumbledore had a gleeful, wild look about him. His golden hair fell in curls to his shoulders. Harry wondered whether it was a young doge, but before he could check the caption, the door of the office opened.

If Thicknesse had not been looking over his shoulder as he entered, Harry would not have had time to pull the Invisibility cloak over himself. As it was, he thought Thicknesse might have caught a glimpse of movement because for a moment or two he remained quite still, staring curiously at the place where Harry had just vanished. Perhaps deciding that all he had seen was Dumbledore scratching his nose on the front of the book, for Harry had hastily replaced it upon the shelf. Thicknesse finally walked to the desk and pointed his wand at the quill standing ready in the ink pot. It sprang out and begun scribbling a note to Umbridge. Very slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Harry backed out of the office into the open area beyond.

The pamphlet-makers were still clustered around the remains of the Decoy Detonator, which continued to hoot feebly as it smoked. Harry hurried off up the corridor as the young witch said, 'I bet it sneaked up here from Experimental Charms, they’re so careless, remember that poisonous duck?'

Speeding back toward the lifts, Harry reviewed his options. It had never been likely that the locket was here at the Ministry, and there was no hope of bewitching its whereabouts out of Umbridge while she was sitting in a crowded court. Their priority now had to be to leave the Ministry before they were exposed, and try again another day. The first thing to do was to find Theodore, and then they could work out a way of extracting the girls from the courtroom.

The lift was empty when it arrived. Harry jumped in a pulled off the Invisibility Cloak as it started its descent. To his enormous relief, when it rattle to a halt at level two, a soaking-wet and wild-eyed Theodore got in.

'Good morning Sir,' he stammered to Harry as the lift set off again. 'Theo, it’s me, Harry! One second-Tergeo.'

The excess rain water drained off of Theodore, though his hair and close remained a little wet.

'Whoops, sorry Harry, I forgot what you looked like, although I guess I should have remembered you looked mike a meaner and more masculine version of Allison,' said Theodore, relieved, although that relief did not last. 'Speaking of which, where is she and Tracey?'

'They had to go down to the courtrooms with Umbridge, she couldn’t refuse, and—'

But before Harry could finish the lift had stopped again. The doors opened and Mr Weasley walked inside, talking to an elderly witch whose blonde hair was teased so high that it resembled an anthill.

'...I quite understand what you’re saying, Wakanda, but I’m afraid I cannot be part to—'

Mr Weasley broke off; he had noticed Harry. It was very strange to have Mr Weasley glare at him with that much dislike. The lift doors closed and the four of them trundled downward once more.

'Oh, hello, Reg,' said Mr Weasley, looking around at the sound of a couple drops from Theodore’s robes. 'Isn’t your wife in for questioning today? Er—what’s happened to you? Why are you wet?'

'Yaxley’s office was raining,' said Theodore cautiously, it was different talking to someone you actually know. 'I stopped it and now I'm heading down.'

'Well, Yaxley's isn't the first one to start randomly raining, and I don't think it'll be the last,' said Mr Weasley. 'Anyways, good luck with your wife.'

'Er, thanks.'

The lift doors opened; the old witch with the anthill hair left, and Theodore moved farther away from Mr Weasley to avoid potentially hazardous small-talk. Just then Percy Weasley strode into the lift, his nose buried in some papers he was reading.

Not until the doors had clanged shut again did Percy realize he was in a lift with his father. He glanced up, saw Mr Weasley, turned radish red, and left the lift the moment the doors opened again. Harry noticed for a while that Mr Weasley was glaring at him, and for a while he tried to ignore him, but then suddenly he felt Mr Weasley pull him to the opposite side of the elevator to where Theodore stood.

'Listen here, Runcorn,' said Mr Weasley in a venomous whisper so that Theodore wouldn't hear.

The lift doors closed and as they clanked down another floor, Mr Weasley said, 'I hear you laid information about Dirk Cresswell.'

Harry had the impression that Mr Weasley’s anger was no less because of the brush with Percy. He decided his best chance was to act stupid.

'Sorry?' he said.

'Don’t pretend, Runcorn,' said Mr Weasley fiercely. 'You hunted down the wizard who faked his family tree, didn’t you?'

'I—so what if I did?' said Harry.

'So Dirk Cresswell is ten times the wizard you are,' said Mr Weasley quietly, as the lift sank ever lower. 'And if he survives Azkaban, you’ll have to answer to him, not to mention his wife, his sons, and his friends—'

'Arthur,' Harry interrupted, 'you know you’re being tracked, don’t you?'

'Is that a threat, Runcorn?' said Mr Weasley loudly.

'No,' said Harry, 'it’s a fact! They’re watching your every move—'

The lift doors opened. They had reached the Atrium. Mr Weasley gave Harry a scathing look and swept from the lift. Harry stood there, shaken. He wished he was impersonating somebody other than Mr Runcorn...the lift doors clanged shut.

Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak and he and Theodore got under it.

'You shouldn't have told him that,' Theodore whispered, 'If the lift stopped and someone else over heard it could have given you away.'

'I had to warn him, it was a risk I was willing to take, like you fixing the environment charm to potentially save Mrs Cattermole.'

When the doors opened, they stepped out into a torch-lit stone passageway quite different from the wood-paneled and carpeted corridors above. As the lift rattled away again, Harry shivered slightly, looking toward the distant black door that marked the entrance to the Department of Mysteries...Where they had lost...

He set off, his destination not the black door, but the doorway he remembered on the left-hand side, which opened onto the flight of stairs down to the court chambers. His mind grappled with possibilities as he crept down them: He still had a couple of Decoy Detonators, but perhaps it would be better to simply knock on the courtroom door, have Theodore stay behind and he enter as Runcorn, and ask for a quick word with Mafalda and hope Tracey gets the silent message to sneak off too? Of course, he did not know whether Runcorn was sufficiently important to get away with this, and even if he managed it, Allison and Tracey’s non-reappearance might trigger a search before they were clear of the Ministry…

Lost in thought, he did not immediately register the unnatural chill that was creeping over him, as if he were descending into fog.

It was becoming colder and colder with every step he took: a cold that reached right down into his throat and tore at his lungs. And then he felt that stealing sense of despair, of hopelessness, filling him, expanding inside him…

Dementors, he thought.

As he reached the foot of the stairs and turned to his right he saw a dreadful scene. The dark passage outside the courtrooms was packed with tall, black-hooded figures, their faces completely hidden, their ragged breathing the only sound in the place. The petrified Muggle-borns brought in for questioning sat huddled and shivering on hard wooden benches. Most of them were hiding their faces in their hands, perhaps in an instinctive attempt to shield themselves from the dementors’ greedy mouths. Some were accompanied by families, others sat alone. The dementors were gliding up an down in front of them, and the cold, and the hopelessness, and the despair of the place laid themselves upon Harry like a curse...

Fight it, he told himself, but he knew that he could not conjure a Patronus here without revealing himself instantly.

'I need to be able to move around freely to get Allison and Tracey out, so I'll need you to stay here,' whispered Harry as Theodore quietly left the Invisibility Cloak when no one was looking. 'Reg Cattermole has a reason to be down here so you should be fine.'

Theodore nodded and Harry continued to move forward as silently as he could, and with every step he took numbness seemed to steal over his brain, but he forced himself to think of Tracey and Allison, who needed him.

Moving through the towering black figures was terrifying: The eyeless faces hidden beneath their hoods turned as he passed, and he felt sure that they sense him, sensed, perhaps, a human presence that still had some hope, some resilience...

And then, abruptly and shockingly amid the frozen silence, one of the dungeon doors on the left of the corridor was flung open and screams echoed out of it.

'No, no, I’m a half-blood, I’m a half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he’s a well-known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you—get your hands off me, get your hands off—'

'This is your final warning,' said Umbridge’s soft voice, magically magnified so that it sounded clearly over the man’s desperate screams. 'If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor’s Kiss.'

The man’s screams subsided, but dry sobs echoed through the corridor.

'Take him away,' said Umbridge.

Two dementors appeared in the doorway of the courtroom, their rotting, scabbed hands clutching the upper arms of a wizard who appeared to be fainting. They glided away down the corridor with him, and the darkness they trailed behind them swallowed him from sight.

'Next—Mary Cattermole,' called Umbridge.

A small woman stood up; she was trembling from head to foot. Her dark hair was smoothed back into a bun and she wore long, plain robes that didn't fully hide the fact that she was about five months pregnant. Her face was completely bloodless. As she passed the dementors, Harry saw her shudder.

He did it instinctively, without any sort of plan, because he hated the sight of her walking alone into the dungeon: As the door began to swing closed, he slipped into the courtroom behind her.

It was not the same room in which he had once been interrogated for improper use of magic. This one was much smaller, though the ceiling was quite as high; it gave the claustrophobic sense of being stuck at the bottom of a deep well.

There were more dementors in here, casting their freezing aura over the place; they stood like faceless sentinels in the corners farthest from the high raised platform. Here, behind a balustrade, sat Umbridge, with Yaxley on one side of her, and Allison, stoic but with fear in her eyes, on the other. In the witness stand, just as white faced as Mrs Cattermole, sat Tracey. At the foot of the platform, a bright-silver, long-haired cat prowled up and down, up and down, up and down, and Harry realized that it was there to protect the prosecutors from the despair that emanated from the dementors: That was for the accused to feel, not the accusers.

'Sit down,' said Umbridge in her soft, silky voice.

Mrs Cattermole stumbled to the single seat in the middle of the floor beneath the raised platform. The moment she had sat down, chains clinked out of the arms of the chair and bound her there.

'You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?' asked Umbridge.

Mrs Cattermole gave a single, shaky nod.

'Married to Reginald Cattermole of the Magical Maintenance Department?'

Mrs Cattermole burst into tears.

'I don’t know where he is, he was supposed to meet me here!' Umbridge ignored her.

'Mother to Maisie, Ellie, and Alfred Cattermole?'

Mrs Cattermole sobbed harder than ever.

'They’re frightened, they think I might not come home—'

'Spare us,' spat Yaxley. 'The brats of Mudbloods do not stir our sympathies.'

Mrs Cattermole’s sobs masked Harry’s footsteps as he made his way carefully toward the steps that led up to the raised platform. The moment he had passed the place where the Patronus cat patrolled, he felt the change in temperature: It was warm and comfortable here. The Patronus, he was sure, was Umbridge’s, and it glowed brightly because she was so happy here, in her element, upholding the twisted laws she had helped to write. Slowly, and very carefully, he edged his way along the platform until he was near Umbridge, Yaxley, Allison and he was behind Tracey. With her nerves probably shot, Harry was worried about making Hermione jump. He thought of casting the Muffliato charm upon Umbridge and Yaxley, but even murmuring the word might cause Tracey alarm, and he might not be able to be precise enough to leave Allison out of the spell. Then Umbridge raised her voice to address Mrs Cattermole, and Harry seized his chance.

'I’m behind you,' he whispered into Tracey’s ear.

As he had expected, she jumped and let out a yelp of surprise, but both Umbridge and Yaxley were concentrating upon Mrs Cattermole, and this went unnoticed by them. It did not go unnoticed however by Allison, who kept her head forward but her eyes shot to look at Tracey with concern.

'Don't worry, I'm getting you out of here,' he whispered as quietly as he could. 'I have to go tell Allison, I'll be right back.'

'A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs Cattermole,' Umbridge was saying, 'Eight-and-three-quarter inches, cherry, unicorn-hair core. Do you recognize that description?'

Mrs Cattermole nodded, mopping her eyes on her sleeve.

'Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard you took that wand?'

Harry suceeded in getting behind Allison.

'T—took?' sobbed Mrs Cattermole. 'I didn’t t-take it from anybody. I b-bought it when I was eleven years old. It—it—it—chose me.'

She cried harder than ever, giving Harry another chance, he didn't have to be as cautious though as he knew Allison wouldn't react in surprise.

'We're leaving, when the opportunity arrives I'm getting you and Tracey out,' whispered Harry. 'We'll come back on a less chaotic d—'

Harry was cut off by Umbridge laughing at Mrs Cattermole with a soft girlish laugh that made Harry want to attack her. She leaned forward over the barrier, the better to observe her victim, and something gold swung forward too, and dangled over the void: the locket.

Allison had seen it; she let out a little sound, but Umbridge and Yaxley, still intent upon their prey, were deaf to everything else.

'No,' said Umbridge, 'no, I don’t think so, Mrs Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards. You are not a witch. I have your responses to the questionnaire that was sent to you here—Mafalda, pass them to me.'

Umbridge held out a small hand: She looked so toadlike at that moment that Harry was quite surprised not to see webs between the stubby fingers. Allison’s hands shook slightly. She quickly searched through a pile of documents balanced on the chair beside her, finally withdrawing a sheaf of parchment with Mrs Cattermole’s name on it.

'Here you—oh, what a lovely locket, Dolores,' she said, pointing at the pendant gleaming in the ruffled folds of Umbridge’s blouse.

'What?' snapped Umbridge, glancing down. 'Oh yes—an old family heirloom,' she said, patting the locket lying on her large bosom. 'The S stands for Selwyn...I am related to the Selwyns...Indeed, there are few Pure-blood families to whom I am not related...A pity,' she continued in a louder voice, flicking through Mrs Cattermole’s questionnaire, 'that the same cannot be said for you. "Parents professions: greengrocers."'

Yaxley laughed jeeringly. Below, the fluffy silver cat patrolled up and down, and the dementors stood waiting in the corners.

It was Umbridge’s lie that brought the blood surging into Harry’s brain and obliterated his sense of caution—that the locket she had taken as a bribe from a petty criminal was being used to holster her own Pure-blood credentials. He raised his wand, not even troubling to keep it concealed beneath the Invisibility Cloak, and said, 'Stupefy!'

There was a flash of red light; Umbridge crumpled and her forehead hit the edge of the balustrade: Mrs Cattermole’s papers slid off her lap onto the floor and, down below, the prowling silver cat vanished. Ice-cold air hit them like an oncoming wind: Yaxley, confused, looked around for the source of the trouble and saw Harry’s disembodied hand and wand pointing at him. He tried to draw his own wand, but too late: 'Stupefy!'

Yaxley slid to the ground to lie curled on the flood.

'H-Harry!'

'Tracey, if you think I was going to sit here and let her pretend—'

'No, Harry, Mrs Cattermole!'

Harry whirled around, throwing off the Invisibility Cloak: down below, the dementors had moved out of their corners: they were gliding toward the woman chained to the chair: Whether because the Patronus had vanished or because they sensed that their masters were no longer in control, they seemed to have abandoned restraint. Mrs Cattermole let out a terrible scream of fear as a slimy, scabbed hand grasped her chin and forced her face back.

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!' Harry and Allison said in unison.

The silver stag and doe soared from the tips of both their wands and leaped toward the dementors, which fell back and melted into the dark shadows again. The two Patronus' light combined, making it more powerful and more warming than the cat’s protection, and filed the whole dungeon as they cantered around and around the room. Harry had never seen his Patronus next to Allison's, but he had never seen something that felt so right and looked so beautiful before. He nearly got distracted as to their current situation.

'Get the Horcrux,' Harry told Tracey.

He ran back down the steps, stuffing the Invisibility Cloak back into his bag, and approached Mrs Cattermole.

'You?' she whispered, gazing into his face. 'But—but Reg said you were the one who submitted my name for questioning!'

'Did I?' muttered Harry, tugging at the chains binding her arms. 'Well, I’ve had a change of heart. Diffindo!' nothing happened.

'Ha, he'd never,' snorted Allison, running over.

'Very funny, can I get some help with these chains?'

Without another word Allison whipped around and pointed her wand at Mrs Cattermole's chains, 'Emancipare!'

The chains clinked and withdrew into the arms of the chair. Mrs Cattermole looked just as frightened as before.

'I don’t understand,' she whispered.

'You’re going to leave here with us,' said Harry, pulling her to her feet. 'Tracey, hurry up, we’re surrounded by dementors!'

'I am well aware Harry, but if Umbridge wakes up without the locket she'll put an even larger target on our backs—It needs to be duplicated—Geminio! There...Ok, lets get out of here...'

She was interrupted by Mrs Cattermole who let out a terrified scream. Harry took the scared woman's arm and made her look at him.

'Go home, grab your children, and get out, get out of the country if you’ve got to. Disguise yourselves and run. You’ve seen how it is, you won’t get anything like a fair hearing here.'

Still scared, she managed to nod and Harry let her go.

'Harry,' said Tracey, 'what is your plan for getting out of here with all the dementors outside?'

'Patronuses,' said Harry, pointing his wand at his own: The stag slowed and walked, still gleaming brightly, toward the door. Allison did the same with her doe. 'As many as we can muster; do yours, Tracey.'

'Exp—Expecto patronum,' said Tracey, nerves in her voice. Nothing happened.

'It’s the only charm she ever has trouble with,' Harry told a completely bemused Mrs Cattermole. 'Bit unfortunate, really...Come on, Tracey...'

'Expecto patronum!'

A silver monarch butterfly burst from the end of Tracey’s wand and flew gracefully through the air to join the two deer.

'C’mon,' said Harry, and he led Allison, Tracey, and Mrs Cattermole to the door.

When the Patronuses glided out of the dungeon there were cries of shock from the people waiting outside. Harry looked around: the dementors were falling back on both sides of them, melding into the darkness, scattering before the silver creatures. Harry briefly spot Theodore draw his wand.

'It’s been decided that you should all go home and go into hiding with your families,' Harry told the waiting Muggle-borns, who were dazzled by the light of the Patronuses and still cowering slightly. 'Go abroad if you can. Just get well away from the Ministry. That’s the—er—new official position. Now, if you’ll just follow the Patronuses, you’ll be able to leave from the Atrium.'

'Harry, what is going on? There is something I need to tell you all,' said Theodore as he ran to the group, but he was intersected by Mrs Cattermole.

'Reg!' screamed Mrs Cattermole, and she threw herself into Theodore’s arms. 'Runcorn let me out, he attacked Umbridge and Yaxley, and he’s told all of us to leave the country, I think we’d better do it, Reg, I really do, let’s hurry home and fetch the children and—why are you so wet?'

'Rain,' Theodore managed to say, disengaging himself. 'Harry, we have to go, the Ministry learned there are potential intruders inside the Ministry, something about a hole in Umbridge’s office door. We got very little time to get out before this place locks down—'

They managed to get up the stone steps without being intercepted, but as they approached the lifts Harry started to have misgivings. If they emerged into the Atrium with a silver stag, an otter soaring alongside it, and twenty or so people, half of them accused Muggle-borns, he could not help feeling that they would attract unwanted attention. He had just reached this unwelcome conclusion when the lift clanged to a halt in front of them.

'We need to get out of here,' said Allison, dead serious.

Tracey’s Patronus vanished with a pop as she turned a horror struck face to Harry.

'Harry, what happens if we're trapped in—!'

'We won’t be if we move fast,' said Harry. He addressed the silent group behind them, who were all gawping at him.

'Who’s got wands?'

About half of them raised their hands.

'Okay, all of you who haven’t got wands need to attach yourself to someone who has. We’ll need to be fast before they stop us. Come on.'

They managed to cram themselves into two lifts. Harry and Allison's Patronus stood sentinel before the golden grilles as they shut and the lifts began to rise.

'Level eight,' said the cool witch’s voice, 'Atrium.'

Harry knew at once that they were in trouble. The Atrium was full of people moving from fireplace to fireplace, sealing them off.

'Harry!' whispered Allison. 'We have a problem—?'

'STOP!' Harry thundered, and the powerful voice of Albert Runcorn echoed through the Atrium: The wizards sealing the fireplaces froze. 'Follow me,' he whispered to the group of terrified Muggle-borns, who moved forward in a huddle, shepherded by Theodore, Allison, and Tracey.

'What’s up, Albert?' said the same balding wizard who had followed Harry out of the fireplace earlier. He looked nervous.

'This lot need to leave before you seal the exits,' said Harry with all the authority he could muster.

The group of wizard sin front of him looked at one another. 'We’ve been told to seal all exits and not let anyone—'

'Are you contradicting me?' Harry blustered. 'Would you like me to have you family tree examined, like I had Dirk Cresswell’s?'

'Sorry!' gasped the balding wizard, backing away. 'I didn’t mean nothing, Albert, but I thought...I thought they were in for questioning and...'

'Their blood is pure,' said Harry, and his deep voice echoed impressively through the hall. 'Purer than many of yours. I dare-say. Off you go,' he boomed to the Muggle-borns, who scurried forward into the fireplaces and began to vanish in pairs. The Ministry wizards hung back, some looking confused, others scared and resentful. Then:

'Mary!'

Mrs Cattermole looked over her shoulder. The real Reg Cattermole, no longer feverish but pale and wan, and just come running out of a lift.

'R–Reg?'

She looked from her husband to Theodore, who swore loudly.

The balding wizard gaped, his head turning ludicrously from one Reg Cattermole to the other.

'Hey—what’s going on? What is this?'

'Seal the exit! SEAL IT!'

Yaxley had burst out of another lift and was running toward the group beside the fireplaces into which all of the Muggle-borns but Mrs Cattermole had now vanished. As the balding wizard lifted his wand, Harry raised an enormous fist and punched him, sending him flying through the air.

'He’s been helping Muggle-borns escape, Yaxley!' Harry shouted.

The balding wizard’s colleagues set up an uproar, under cover of which Theodore grabbed Mrs Cattermole, pulled her towards the still-open fireplace and they disappeared. Confused, Yaxley looked from Harry to the punched wizard, while the real Reg Cattermole screamed, 'My Wife! Who was that with my wife? What’s going on?'

Harry saw Yaxley’s head turn, saw an inkling of truth dawn in that brutish face.

'Come on!' Harry shouted at the girls; he seized their hands and they jumped into the fireplace together as Yaxley’s curse sailed over Harry’s head. They spun for a few seconds before shooting up out of a toilet into a cubicle. Harry flung open the door: Theodore was standing there beside the sinks, still wrestling with Mrs Cattermole.

'Reg, I don’t understand—'

'Madam, please, run. I'm not actually Reg!'

There was a noise in the cubicle behind them; Harry looked around: Yaxley had just appeared.

'Theo, NOW!' Harry yelled. He seized Theodore by the hand and wrapped his arm around Allison and Tracey and turned on the spot.

Darkness engulfed them, along with the sensation of compressing hands, but something was wrong...Allison’s hand seemed to be sliding out of his grip...

He wondered whether he was going to suffocate; he could not breathe or see and the only solid things in the world were Ron’s arm and Hermione’s fingers, which were slowly slipping away...

And then he saw the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, with its serpent door knocker, but before he could draw breath, there was a scream and a flash of purple light. Allison’s hand was suddenly vicelike upon his hand and everything went dark again.

Previous Chapters:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003804769

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003805533

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003806102

Tags:

@SaphireStark @Missy Clara Oswald

Chapter Four: Fallen Warrior

(This is the first chapter where I got to add some big changes and hint to upcoming events, to those that read this chapter I hope you enjoy it and if you do please leave a comment with your thoughts.)

‘Hagrid?’

Harry struggled to raise himself out of the layers of mud that engulfed him: his hands continued to sink into inches of muddy water as he tried to stand. He could not understand where Voldemort had gone and expected him to swoop out of the darkness at any moment.

Something hot and wet was trickling down his chin and from his forehead. He crawled out of the pond and stumbled toward the great dark mass on the ground that was Hagrid.

‘Hagrid? Hagrid. Talk to me—‘

But the dark mass did not stir.

‘Who’s there? Is it Harry? Are you there Harry?’

Harry recognized the voice, but in his dazed state and his ears still ringing from the Bombarda Maxima cast in front of him and Buckbeak, he could not place it.

Then the voice of a familiar woman shouted, ‘They’ve crashed, Ted! Crashed in the garden!’

Harry’s head was swimming.

‘Hagrid,’ he repeated stupidly, and his knees buckled.

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back on what felt like cushions, with a burning sensation in his ribs and right arm.

His cut up chin and forehead had been regrown. The scar on his forehead was still throbbing.

‘Hagrid?’

He opened his eyes and saw that he was lying on a sofa in a familiar, lamplit sitting room that his scrambled mind couldn’t quite place. His rucksack lay on the floor a short distance away, wet and muddy. That was when he noticed a woman was watching over him. Harry sat up too quickly: Lights popped in front of his eyes and he felt sick and giddy, but still he tried to draw his wand as he swore before him stood the woman who killed his beloved godfather and guardian.

‘You!’ he shouted, trying to find his wand but his pocket was empty.

‘Harry, it’s me, you’re safe,’ said not Bellatrix Lestrange, but his loving aunt Andromeda Tonks. He now remembered the house he was heading to was hers and his uncle Ted’s. ‘If you really need your wand though, Ted put it on the coffee table next to you.’

‘Oh, I’m—I’m sorry. Er, where’s Hagrid?’

As she moved closer to him, the resemblance to her sister Bellatrix became much less pronounced. Andromeda’s hair was a light, soft brown and her eyes were wider and kinder. Nevertheless, she looked a little haughty after Harry’s exclamation.

‘Hagrid is going to be just fine, dear,’ she said calmly, ‘I just finished healing him and Ted is watching over him as he comes to. Your Hippogriff is resting in the gazebo out back. Harry dear, are you hurt anywhere else? Anything else broken? Ted healed your ribs, arm, and those nasty cuts. Were they all from the crash or did—‘

Harry tried to sit more upright, but once again got dizzy.

‘Voldemort—‘

‘Slowly, love,’ said Andromeda, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder and pushing him back against the cushions. ‘You’re still suffering from that nasty landing. How did it happen? Did the Feather-light charm were off and the poor Hippogriff couldn’t take Hagrid’s weight?’

‘No,’ said Harry, as his scar pulsed like an open wound. ‘Death Eaters, loads of them—we were chased—‘

‘Death Eaters…no?’ said Andromeda in disbelief. ‘How could that be, we were told they thought you wouldn’t be transported for another three days. They weren’t supposed to know it was—‘

‘They knew,’ said Harry.

That was when his uncle came into the room, he was a fair-haired, big-bellied man, but his face was white with fear.

‘Hagrid’s getting up, but he just told me that all of you were ambushed, is this true?’ he asked both Harry and his wife.

The fact that Hagrid had also said they were ambushed by Death Eaters seemed to snap Andromeda out of any denial she was experiencing.

‘What happened to our daughter?’ she asked. ‘Where is Nymphadora?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Harry. ‘We don’t know what happened to anyone else. I’m sorry.’

She and Ted exchanged looks. A mixture of fear and guilt gripped Harry at the sight of their expressions; if any of the other had died, it was his fault, all his fault. He had consented to the plan, given them his hair…

Ted Tonks looked up at the ceiling as though he could see through to the sky above.

‘Well, we know our protective charms are holding, then, don’t we? They shouldn’t be able to get within a hundred yards of the place in any direction.’

Now Harry understood why Voldemort had vanished: it had been at the point when the Buckbeak crossed the barrier of the Order’s charms. He only hoped they would continue to work: He imagined Voldemort, a hundred yards above them as they spoke, looking for a way to penetrate what Harry visualized as a great transparent bubble.

He swung his legs off the sofa; he needed to see Hagrid with his own eyes before he would believe that he was alive. He had barely stood up, however, when a door opened and Hagrid squeezed through it, his face covered in mud and blood, limping a little but miraculously alive.

‘Harry!’ he said knocking over two delicate tables and an aspidistra, he covered the floor between them in two strides and pulled Harry into a hug that nearly cracked his newly repaired ribs. ‘Blimey, Harry, how did yeh get out o’ that? I thought we were both goners.’

‘Yeah, me too. I can’t believe it either. I think Buckbeak saved me.’

‘Will ya take care of him til he’s healed enough ter leave?’ Hagrid’s asked the Tonks.

‘Of course, we’ll keep the Hippogriff safe and help him recover,’ said Andromeda.

‘Speaking of birds, we were told you’d be arriving with Hedwig,’ said Ted, ‘but we couldn’t find her or her cage, did you—‘

But the drop in Harry’s face told them all they needed to know. The realization crashed over him: He felt ashamed of himself as the tears stung his eyes. The owl had been his companion, one of his only links with the magical world whenever he had been forced to return to the Dursleys. Andromeda gave him a hug.

‘Oh Harry, she was a good bird, I’m very sorry.’

‘She had a great old life,’ said Hagrid.

Harry appreciated the hug, but than pulled away.

‘The Portkey,’ he said, remembering all of a sudden. ‘We’ve got to get back to the Burrow and find out—then we’ll be able to send word, or—or Tonks will, once she’s—‘

‘Dora’ll be okay, Dromeda,’ said Ted. ‘She knows her stuff, she’s been in plenty of tight spots with the Aurors. The Portkey’s through here,’ he added to Harry. ‘But it’s not supposed to leave for several more minutes. Please take a second to catch your breath.’

Since the Portkey couldn’t leave earlier than its scheduled time, Harry reluctantly sat back down on the sofa, though Hagrid decided to remain standing. After looking around awkwardly not knowing what to do or say, Harry spotted a new photograph on the Tonks’ mantle piece, it was encased in a silver frame.

‘Is that from…’ started Harry as he pointed at the picture.

‘—What? Oh, yes,’ said Andromeda, picking up the picture and handing it to him. ‘It was taken fifteen days ago. Because it was all so spontaneous be all were in just random nice clothes. I think that Runcorn girl was technically in a Christmas robe.’

Mentioning his girlfriend Allison’s name sent a pang through Harry’s heart and we quickly looked down at the photograph. Sure enough Allison, with her black short spiky bobbed hair and several silver piercing, was wearing the same black and red dress she had worn to a Christmas party the previous school year. Next to her were Ted and Andromeda, both in formal robes. In the center of the photo was Tonks and Tulip sharing a kiss, Tonks was wearing the knee length light blue dress she had worn to her graduation celebration after completing her seventh year at Hogwarts, and Tulip was wearing a red and gold dress of Turkish design that paired well with her apple red hair. Finally, standing next to Tulip was a woman in her late forties with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes that Harry assumed to be Tulip’s mother. Ted noticed Harry looking at her.

‘That’s Kiraz Karasu, Tulip’s mum. She was the only member of Tulip’s family who could attend. Her father, Asahi, was killed a couple months ago by Death Eaters, as was her last paternal grandmother Mary. Because of these deaths and then Dumbledore’s, her maternal grandparents in Tokat and her extended parental family in Japan wouldn’t come in fear of their safety. It’s quite sad, maybe if they waited to get married more could have—‘

‘Dromeda, we got married within a month of our graduation during the last war, it’s been nearly thirty years and we’re still happy,’ said Ted. ‘People are dying and disappearing every day, no one knows how long they’ve got, and they’ve known each other for over a decade. I don’t think they should have waited.’

‘You’re probably right, love,’ sighed Andromeda. ‘I guess I just imagined Dora would have this big ceremony with a large white gown. Harry wasn’t even there for goodness sake.’

‘I’d have loved to be at a nice wedding for Tonks,’ said Harry, ‘but given everything that is going on I’m just glad she found someone she wants to spend her life with and got to be with as many friends and family as she could.’

‘You truly are becoming so wise my dear,’ said Andromeda with a smile.

‘Harry, it’s nearly time for da Portkey ter go,’ announced Hagrid.

‘Yeah, ok,’ said Harry. He stood back up and quickly gave his aunt and uncle a hug before he seized his rucksack and swung it onto his shoulders. ‘I—‘

He wanted to thank them for taking care of all of them, he also wanted to say goodbye, but Harry wasn’t sure how to do so when his path forward seemed so uncertain. Anything he thought of seemed hollow and insincere.

‘I’ll tell Tonks to send word, when she...Thanks for patching us up, thanks for everything. I—‘

He was glad to leave the room and follow Ted Tonks along a short hallway and into a bedroom. Hagrid came after them, bending low to avoid hitting his head on the door lintel.

‘There you go, my boy. That’s the Portkey.’

Ted was pointing to a small, silver-backed hairbrush lying on the dressing table.

‘Thanks,’ said Harry, reaching out to place a finger on it, ready to leave. A moment later placed his forefinger on the brush, it glowed bright blue, and with a jerk behind the navel as though an invisible hook and line had dragged him forward, Harry was pulled into nothingness, spinning uncontrollably, his finger glued to the Portkey as he and Hagrid hurtled away from Ted Tonks.

Seconds later Harry’s feet slammed into hard ground and he fell onto his hands and knees in the yard of the Burrow. He heard screams.

Throwing aside the no longer glowing hairbrush, Harry stood up, swaying slightly, and saw Mrs Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Allison, and to his surprise Hermione Granger and Tulip Karasu running down the steps by the back door as Hagrid, who had also collapsed on landing, clambered laboriously to his feet.

‘Harry? You are the real Harry? What happened? Where are the others?’ cried Mrs Weasley.

‘What d’you mean? Isn’t anyone else back?’ Harry panted. The answer was clearly etched in Mrs Weasley’s pale face.

Before he could say another word, Allison wrapped her arms around him for a quick hug, and whispered in his ear, ‘I’m really glad you’re safe,’ to which he nodded before she pulled away so he could continue.

‘The Death Eaters were waiting for us,’ Harry told the group. ‘We were surrounded the moment we took off—they knew it was tonight—I don’t know what has happened to anyone else, four of them chased us, it was all we could do to get away, and then Voldemort caught up with us—‘

He could hear the self-justifying note in his voice, the pleas for Mrs Weasley to understand why he did not know what had happened to her sons and soon to be daughter-in-law, but—

‘Thank goodness you’re all right,’ said Mrs Weasley.

Just as Mrs Weasley was about to also pull Harry into a hug, from the doorway came a yell.

‘Harry!’ called the voice of his adopted younger sister Canini, it had only been a month since he had seen her and yet it was clear she had grown and matured a lot in that time, Harry still couldn’t believe she’d be fifteen in just a couple months. She ran down the steps and across the yard so fast that by the time Mrs Weasley had started to hug Harry, Canini’s arms were also wrapped around him. He knew that these hugs brought them comfort, but Harry felt he didn’t quite deserve them.

‘You had me so worried,’ said his sister. ‘Thank goodness you’re back. Where’s Theo?’

‘I don’t know, we’re the first ones back. We were all ambushed by an army of Death Eaters,’ as he said this her face went white with fear. ‘But I’m sure Theodore’s ok, he’s taken on Death Eaters by himself before, and this time he has Kingsley with him.’

This seemed to not take any of the worry or panic in the room away. Everyone stayed quiet until Hagrid’s cleared his throat.

‘Haven’t go’ any brandy, have yeh, Molly?’ asked Hagrid a little shakily. ‘Fer medicinal purposes?’

She could have summoned it by magic, but as she hurried back towards the crooked house, Harry knew that she wanted to hide her face. He turned to Allison and she stoically answered his unspoken plea for information at once.

‘The first group that was supposed to arrive here was Tracey and Tonks, but their Portkey arrived back empty,’ she said, pointing at a rusty oil can lying on the ground nearby. ‘Then that one showed up empty too,’ she pointed at an ancient sneaker, ‘it was meant to be Fred and Mr Weasley’s. Yours was third. The next set to arrive is George with Chiara from the Mould-On-The-Wold safe house.’

This really tore at Harry’s heart. He had no idea the current status of his cousin or brother, Tracey is one of his closest friends in the world and he barely got to say hi before she took off, he had known the twins and Mr Weasley as long as he could remember but now didn’t know if they were ok, and while he didn’t know the rest of the Order as much or for as long he knew they were all good people who probably had friends and family somewhere worried about them and Harry had no idea who was dead or alive now.

‘I should have never allowed Tonks to do this mission, it was too big of a risk,’ said Tulip, twisting her new ring.

‘She’s a trained auror, she can handle herself,’ said Harry, mostly believing his own words.

‘It’s not just her I’m worried about…’ said Tulip, but before she could elaborate, Mrs Weasley returned.

She came back out the front door carrying a bottle of brandy, which she handed to Hagrid. He uncorked it and drank it straight down in one.

‘Mum!’ shouted Ginny, pointing to a spot several feet away.

A blue light had appeared in the darkness; It grew larger and brighter, and George, Chiara, and to Harry’s brief relief, Remus appeared, spinning and then falling. It took Harry only an additional second for his relief to fade as he realized that there was something wrong: Remus was supporting George, who was unconscious and whose face was covered in blood, and Chiara had her wand pointed at the side of George’s face while seemingly muttering an incantation.

Harry ran forward and seized George’s legs. Together, he and Remus carried George into the house and through the kitchen to the sitting room, where they laid him on the sofa. As the lamplight fell across George’s head, Ron yelped and Harry’s stomach lurched; One of George’s ears was missing. The side of his head and neck was drenched in wet, shockingly scarlet blood.

‘I need Wound Cleaning Potion, and Blood-Replenishing Potion now!’ ordered Chiara in between incantations, Harry had forgotten she was a Healer for St. Mungo’s hospital. ‘And then either Essence of Dittany, Murtlap Essence, or Wiggenweld Potion. It’s too late to save the ear but I can probably stop the bleeding and mitigate the scarring and pain.’

And with the demand made Hermione ran into the kitchen to find as much of the potions as possible while Chiara resumed her spell casting.

No sooner had Mrs Weasley bent over her son than Harry’s only remaining parent Remus Lupin grabbed him by the upper arm and dragged him, none too gently, back into the foyer, Canini followed in confusion.

‘Moony?! What are you doing?!’ Canini begged in confusion. Remus ignored this plea.

‘Before Sirius’ funeral Harry Potter gave me his wand, how did he come to possess it?’ he said, giving Harry a small shake. ‘Answer me!’

‘I said Allison risked her life to retrieve it, that she didn’t want it to be destroyed or become a prize of a Death Eater!’

Remus released Harry and fell back against the door.

‘I’m sorry Harry, but I had to check’ said Remus tersely. ‘We’ve been betrayed. Voldemort knew that you were being moved tonight and the only people who could have told him were directly involved in the plan. You might have been an impostor.’

'Why aren't you interrogating Hagrid as well?' asked Canini.

'Hagrid's half-giant,' said Remus looking up at her. 'The Polyjuice Potion is designed for human use only.'

After a moment of them all calming down slightly Remus stood up straighter and outreached his arms.

'Come here you two,' he said and both siblings went in for a quick hug with their father, that while it didn't relieve any of their worry, did bring a small amount of comfort. Before they all broke up Harry could hear Remus mumble under his breath, 'I hope Theo is ok...'

To change the subject away from Harry and Canini's currently missing brother, Harry decided to explain what happened to him in the battle.

'None of the Order would have told Voldemort we were moving tonight,' said Harry. The idea was dreadful to him, he could not believe it of any of them. 'Voldemort only caught up with me toward the end, he didn’t know which one I was in the beginning. If he’d been in on the plan he’d have known from the start I was the one with Hagrid.'

'Voldemort caught up with you? He was there?' said Remus sharply. 'What happened? How did you escape?'

Harry explained briefly how the Death Eaters pursuing them had seemed to recognize him as the true Harry, how they had abandoned the chase, how they must have summoned Voldemort, who had appeared just before he and Hagrid had reached the sanctuary of the Tonks’.

'They recognized you? But how? What had you done?'

'I...' Harry tried to remember; the whole journey seemed like a blur of panic and confusion. 'I saw Stan Shunpike...You know, the bloke who was the conductor on the Knight Bus? And I tried to Disarm him—well, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, does he? He must be Imperiused!'

Remus looked at Harry with both pride and pity.

'Harry, my dear, I have and always will admire how kind your heart is, but the time for Disarming is past! These people are trying to capture and kill you! At least Stun if you aren’t prepared to kill!'

'We were hundreds of feet up! Stan’s not himself and if I stunned him and he’d fallen, he’d have died the same as if I’d used Avada Kedavra! Expelliarmus saved me from Voldemort two years ago,' Harry added defiantly. He did not like how the war was changing his adoptive father to be less caring and empathetic, causing him to be more like the numb and tired auror he had once been in the last war.

'Yes, Harry,' said Remus with painful restraint, 'and a great number of Death Eaters witnessed that happening! Forgive me, but it was a very unusual move then, under imminent threat of death. Repeating it tonight in front of Death Eaters who either witnessed or heard about the first occasion was close to suicidal!'

'So you think I should have killed Stan Shunpike?' said Harry angrily.

'Of course not,' said Remus, 'but the Death Eaters—frankly, most people!—would have expected you to attack back! Expelliarmus is a useful spell, that's why Sirius taught you it in your very first year, but the Death Eaters seem to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!'

Remus was making Harry feel idiotic, and yet there was still a grain of defiance inside him.

‘I won’t blast people out of my way just because they’re there.’ said Harry. ‘That’s Voldemort’s job.’

‘Please,’ said the sudden upset voice of Canini, ‘can we just appreciate that Harry survived that battle even though Voldemort himself was there. Can we not fight for just this night?’

And this seemed to snap them out of it. She was right, he survived and at least for the moment he was safe. After a couple more moments of silence, Harry addressed Remus again.

‘Will George be okay?’

‘I think so, Chiara is a very skilled Healer, although there’s no chance of regrowing his ear, not when it’s been cursed off—‘

There was a scuffling from outside. Remus dived for the back door; Harry leapt after him and sprinted into the yard, Canini close behind him.

Two figures had appeared in the yard, and as Harry ran toward them he realized they were Theodore, now returning to his normal appearance, and Kingsley, both clutching a bent coat hanger.

'Theo!' called out Canini in a cry of relief.

Theodore quickly ran to give Remus a hug, but Remus only hugged back with one arm and didn’t remove his eyes from Kingsley, and Kingsley showed no pleasure at the sight of any of them. Harry then witnessed both men point their wands at each other’s chest.

‘The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us!’ said Kingsley in the scariest voice Harry had ever heard him use.

‘Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him,’ said Remus calmly.

Kingsley turned his wand on Harry, but Remus said, ‘It’s him, I’ve checked!’

‘All right, all right!’ said Kingsley, stowing his wand back beneath his cloak, as he did so he finally gave Theodore a proper hug, to which Harry and Canini immediately joined in to take in the slight relief that all four of their little household was ok. The moment didn’t last long though as Kingsley had business to attend to. ‘But somebody betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!’

‘So it seems,’ replied Remus, slowly letting go of his kids, ‘but apparently they did not realize that there would be seven Harrys.’

‘Small comfort!’ snarled Kingsley. ‘Who else is back?’

‘Only Harry, Hagrid, Chiara, George, and me.’

‘No?’ said Theodore in disbelief, ‘but what about the others..?’

But he had to be temporarily ignored.

‘What happened to you?’ Remus asked Kingsley.

‘Followed by five, injured two, might’ve killed one,’ Kingsley reeled off, ‘and we saw You-Know-Who as well, he joined the chase halfway through but vanished pretty quickly. Remus, he can—‘

‘Fly,’ supplied Harry. ‘I saw him too, he came after Hagrid and me.’

‘So that’s why he left, to follow you!’ said Kingsley. ‘I couldn’t understand why he’d vanished. But what made him change targets?’

‘Harry behaved a little too kindly to Stan Shunpike,’ said Remus.

‘Poor Stan, he’s a nice bloke, the Death Eaters are playing a cruel game with him,’ responded Theodore. ‘However I thought he was in Azkaban?’

Kingsley let out a mirthless laugh.

‘Mr Nott, there’s obviously been a mass breakout which the Ministry has hushed up. Traver’s hood fell off when I cursed him, he’s supposed to be inside too. But what happened that you’re here too, Remus? You were supposed to stay at your home incase another group couldn’t make it to their destination and tried going to yours. Where’s Chiara and George?’

‘Chiara needed my help,’ said Remus. ‘George lost an ear.’

‘Lost an—?’ repeated Theodore in a nauseated voice.

‘Snape’s work according to Chiara,’ said Remus.

‘Snape?’ shouted Harry, ‘You didn’t say—‘

‘He lost his hood during the chase. She didn’t say what curse was used by I recognize its effects, Sectumsempra was always a specialty of Snape’s. She wanted to curse him back, but she had to focus both on flying and keep her Stamina Charm on George going as without being able to close the wound or replenish his blood in midair it was probably what helped him survive the rest of the flight.’

Silence fell between the five of them as they looked up at the sky. There was no sign of movement; the stars stared back, unblinking, indifferent, unobscured by flying friends. Where was Tracey? Where were Fred and Mr Weasley? Where were Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Mad-Eye, and Mundungus?

With nothing else to do, Harry headed through the empty kitchen and back into the sitting room, where Chiara had staunched his bleeding now, and Mrs Weasley was gently cleaning it all off his face. Ron was standing next to George but he couldn't look directly at him, Allison was comforting Ginny. Harry then saw by the lamplight Harry saw a clean, gaping hole where George’s ear had been.

'How is he?'

Mrs Weasley looked around and said, 'He'll be alright.'

So basically I revisited C.AI and decided to go back to making ocs question their sanity but instead of with Bluey characters, I have the perfect HP character to target, very vulnerable to this….

I feel so bad now what do I do help my favourite character is going to cry-

I’m gonna keep going hehehehehe

These are slightly recent, but I could probably sketch them better

I was going to do a full art dump but currently most of the art I have on hand of HP is not good. Note that I drew Moody around 4-5 times and probably like 6-8 of Barty so there was a definite improvement between these two and the other two I found of them (not so much Barty but the first Barty I drew in my sketchbook I don’t have at the moment- TRASH)

Barty Crouch ✨ JR ✨

I will eventually post a preview of the fanfic I’m writing about his Hogwarts years once I come up with a title, ideas needed (though I have a couple in mind, they don’t seem right)

Alastor Moody, tomorrow I’ll show you the eyepatch I painted of his eye. He looks pretty decent here. The legs in the top left are Sirius’s, but the Sirius drawing is bad (first drawing of him) so I didn’t include it.

Anyway he’s in my top 3, just like Barty, heheh that’s ironic (I think)

My grade and the grade above are having a Yule Ball tommorow at school though luckily we don’t have to dance with anyone, there will be snacks there :)

I’ll update you on that tomorrow but a teacher still owes me candy (since a couple years ago 💀 )so hopefully he remembers lol

who make next

Mad-Eye Moody in Class: AVADA KEDAVRA!!!

Random Student going to the bathroom: