"Events have become slightly grimmer since the Order's inaugural meeting," Professor Dumbledore declared, surveying those gathered in his office.
Elphias Doge, Caradoc Dearborn, Emmeline Vance, Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, Minerva McGonagall, and Alastor Moody each sat in the same chairs they had occupied at the original meeting. However, there were now two more chairs. Edgar Bones and Dedalus Diggle had been recruited. The first business of the meeting had involved bringing them up to speed. Now, Dumbledore was proceeding with what he planned on being normal business at all Order meetings.
"It would appear that Ashworth's information was correct," Dorcas mused.
"To a degree, at least," Marlene amended. "From what I have heard, none of those who attacked that town appeared to posses the status of dark lord."
Elphias Doge shook his head. "The dark lord was not seen," he said, "but those ruffians could not have possibly organized themselves. Their disturbance fell apart almost as soon as it began. There are a handful of witnesses who even attest that many of the attackers were drunk. They could not have been organized as much as they were without someone else. The question we need to ask should not regard this dark lord's existence. Rather, the question must address his motives."
"All right," said Emmeline, "why did the dark lord choose to show his face? And, let's take it a step forward. Why was the attack staged in the first place? Nothing was achieved."
Alastor leaned forward and entered the conversation. "On the battlefield, there can be many motives, some of them having nothing to do with anything that happens in proximity to the fight."
"He's right," Dedalus Diggle said, supporting Moody.
Emmeline rolled her eyes. "Then tell me, what was achieved by attacking the town?"
Dumbledore was about to jump into the conversation and smooth things over before a heated debate could break out among the Order members, but Edgar Bones cleared his throat first and spoke in a deep voice. "Friends, we must remember that a true dark lord is more than a common criminal. He is a terrorist, a general, a politician, and a practitioner of terrible, but great, magic."
"You speak well, Edgar," Dumbledore observed. "You are also correct. The attack on the village may have been a test of the Ministry's ability to respond to such attacks."
Caradoc twisted his lips distastefully. "The dark lord would have done better to keep the element of surprise on his side. Now, Director Prewitt knows that Minister Black isn't paranoid. The aurors will be more prepared now than they would have been."
This time, Alastor did not lean forward in his seat. "The dark lord would have anticipated that the move would lose him the element of surprise," he pointed out. "What does this gain him, do you all think?"
"Perhaps if he has a weightier objective in mind," Edgar observed slowly, "knowledge of how the Ministry forces react is more valuable than the element of surprise."
"Except that we now know how his forces work, too," Dorcas said.
"Do we?" Moody asked. "Or did we see what he wanted us to see?"
Dumbledore held up one of his hands. "At this point, it is useless for us to speculate. There are many possible motives. If we focus on our favorites, we may miss the true one. The only thing we can really do is plan how to react if a similar incident occurs."
"Are you suggesting we organize resistance?" Marlene inquired.
"That may not be necessary," Dumbledore said. "Alastor, what do you know about the Ministry's preparations?"
"They're very good," Moody responded. "Director Prewitt knows what he's doing. However, he is turning out to posses a very abrasive personality. On the other hand, you can't deny that he's grabbed this challenge by the horns. Our department protocols have already been altered so as to increase our response time dramatically. Then of course, he's making full use of our budget to increase the size of the auror corps. I don't think the Order needs to worry about providing fighting power."
Everyone murmured their comments of approval quietly.
"Is there anything else of interest in the Ministry?" Dumbledore asked.
Moody hesitated. "There may be internal strife. Director Prewitt appears to feel that Minister Black may not be fit to serve as Minister now that Orion is dead. His opinion is quite evident in some of the things he has said and done."
"I should think Prewitt would seize the opportunity to fill Orion's advisory role," Emmeline commented drily.
"That's the problem, I think," Moody responded. "The post has been filled, and not by Prewitt."
"Who, then?" Edgar asked.
Moody shrugged. "By all appearances, it would be Ashworth. Perhaps Romulus Malfoy, though the man seems too distracted to do much of anything. On the morning after Orion's death, the Minister had a closed conference with Malfoy and Ashworth. Almost immediately after they departed, Minister Black started putting a new round of policies into place. The Minister seems concerned that this dark lord might find ways to infiltrate the Ministry."
McGonagall gave Dumbledore a significant glance before speaking. "It would appear that Mr. Ashworth is more than just some underling of the Black family."
"Or perhaps the Minister is desperate for advisors he already knows he can trust," Dorcas offered.
"Yeah, it would appear so," Moody said. "You may want to see whether Slughorn is ready to come back from sick leave, Albus."
"Why's that?" Dumbledore asked.
"Black sent Ashworth to personally observe the aftermath of the attack on that village," Moody informed everyone. "Prewitt was very annoyed that Black bypassed normal channels. However, I suspect that it was a sign of things to come. We may see Ashworth assume a very senior position in the Minister's administration soon."
"Extraordinary," Dumbledore said quietly. He sat in his chair silently, contemplating events. The Order watched him, unsure of what to say or where to go. Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "I can't help but get the feeling that we are missing some vital information about how things are truly functioning with the Black family and their friends. The death of Orion has made things even more curious. Has the Ministry been able to discover more surrounding the events of his death? Was there foul play?"
Everyone looked to Moody for the answer. Moody shrugged. "Officially, we have been unable to discover anything. There was no evidence of foul play on the corpse, though that would have easily been hidden by magic. His widow has not been cooperative, either."
"Maybe you should arrest her for the murder until she cooperates," Emmeline said.
"Unfortunately, she's prepared for that eventuality," Moody grumbled. "She willingly submitted to a truth serum and declared that she did not kill her husband."
"What about her sister-in-law?" Minerva asked. "Everyone knows those two are thick as thieves."
Moody nodded in agreement. "It is an admitted fact that she was at the house that night. However, she too took the truth serum and denied that she killed Orion. Once they were above suspicion, their cooperation with the investigators ended."
"His death achieved little for them," Caradoc interjected, preparing to argue that their innocence made sense.. "The rumors are that when the estate was settled, control of the Black fortune did not pass to Walburga or either of Orion's sons."
"Cygnus, then?" Minerva asked.
"I don't know," Caradoc replied.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "It would appear that facts are not going to give us clues about Orion's death. We should move on. We have other matters on which we must make decisions. Perhaps we can all keep our ears open for more information. I am particularly interested in knowing who now controls the Black fortune."
"Agreed," intoned Edgar. "I can make some discreet inquiries. The goblins are secretive by nature and work hard to maintain that reputation, but they may inadvertently drop some information. What do you wish to address next?"
"We need to discuss recruitment," Dumbledore said. "Our numbers need to increase, I think. It should be easier now that the dark lord has shown his hand to the public. We also need to discuss where we are to hold future meetings. I'm not sure that Hogwarts is the most practical place."
Harry yawned and leaned back in his chair, wishing he had not declined Romulus's offer of a glass of firewhiskey. He had wanted to avoid downing his sense so that he would be at the top of his game if he had time to practice his fighting strategies in the Room of Requirement later that night. He glanced across a short conference table toward Cygnus who was shuffling through one of many folders filled with sheets of parchment.
Romulus was up and pacing the room as he sipped on his own glass of firewhiskey. It was a rectangular room and sat on one of the upper floors of Malfoy Manor. Delicate windows lined one wall while a single fireplace sat in the center of the other wall.
"I suppose we can move on from our discussion regarding proposed tax increases," Cygnus said, making it sound more like a proposal than a decision.
Romulus waved his hand dismissively. "We can come back to it," he said. "Have your bureaucrats make up some reports about possible ways to shift the budget and free up funds. We need the support of the masses, and raising taxes isn't the best way to garner it, even if we need the funds for a good cause."
Cygnus nodded, expressing his agreement with Romulus's analysis of the situation. He sighed and shuffled through a few more folders. Finally, he came to a thin one. "Perhaps I should bring this up before we move onto the next subject." He set it on top of the stack. However, instead of opening it, he glanced directly at Harry. "Harry, I've decided that your working at Hogwarts is not working out anymore. We need you in the Ministry, now. Are you willing?"
"Of course," said Harry as he mentally reviewed his mental list of things to do. Killing the basilisk was really the only thing that he would not have been able to do from outside of Hogwarts. Spying on students was no longer practical or especially probable.
"Good," said Cygnus, sounding as if he had almost expected Harry to turn him down. "It's going to be a stretch, but I don't think I'll lose too much political capital over this. I want you to assume a position as one of my undersecretaries. You'll have broad powers, but as of yet, no specific or permanent responsibility other than being my deputy. I feel that it is broadly known that you are one of my key advisors. I think there will be less resentment if it is in an official capacity."
Harry nodded slowly, masking his surprise. "Unless Romulus sees a better step, I'm game."
"Thank you," said Cygnus, glancing briefly at Romulus who still seemed slightly distracted. Detecting no contrary opinion, he continued, "You'll have to submit your resignation to Professor Dumbledore. At the earliest possible moment you can be released from your duties at Hogwarts, you'll start at the Ministry."
"Very well," Harry said. "I'll see what can be done."
Cygnus nodded and hesitated for a moment before addressing Harry again. "On a more personal note, I wouldn't mind if you… continued your association with my daughter Bella." He looked down and touched his firewhiskey glass, making like he was about to pick it up and take a sip. "You've been a good influence on her."
"I've tried," said Harry, his lips quirking into almost a half smile.
Cygnus smiled, abandoned the whiskey glass, and sat back, the burden of his responsibilities evaporating for a moment. "I'd like to think that before long you two might consider marriage. An undersecretary position is a very advantageous stepping stone. You'd be able to start off well. I can't imagine myself being Minister for very long, so your undersecretary position wouldn't be permanent by any means, but it would still leave you in a very good position if you take the advantage to make friends and cultivate connections. Maybe one day you'll be Minister yourself. You've certainly got enough talent, I think."
"We'll have to see what the future holds," Harry said modestly. He wasn't sure that he wanted to pursue such a career, but he also knew that if he married Bellatrix, she would be disappointed if he didn't.
"Of course," said Cygnus, his brief daydream coming to a close. He looked over to Romulus. "It's getting late. Are you sure we're not intruding?"
Romulus waved his hand, seemingly not paying close attention to Harry and Cygnus. "We have all the time you want. My wife is in Paris visiting her family. I haven't anything better to do."
Cygnus nodded, looking relieved. He pulled out another file and was about to start the next subject when an auror entered the room and coughed, drawing everyone's attention. "Minister," said the auror, the name of whom Harry remained ignorant, "dark wizards have commenced another raid in a Scottish village. The number of attackers is double that of the last incident."
Cygnus sighed. "I suppose Director Prewitt is dispatching appropriate forces?"
"Of course," said the auror, nodding his head in agreement.
"Perhaps some of you from my bodyguard detail can apparate to Scotland and render assistance," Cygnus commanded via suggestion. "I think we'll be safe behind the formidable defenses of Malfoy Manor."
The auror nodded. "Right away, sir." He departed the room.
Cygnus shook his head sadly. "Hopefully we can get more aurors trained. Prewitt claims that he's got everything under control, but I still feel like we are being forced to stretch our resources to counter these attacks. I think we all know that they'll only increase in frequency and seriousness." He turned to the folder he had been about to address. "The Wizengamot, he said tiredly. Romulus, we'll need your input on this one."
Romulus joined them at the table, accepted several of the parchments from Cygnus and began to explain the issues before the Wizengamot, the support for and against said issues, and how they would affect Cygnus. It was exhausting, and Harry wondered how Romulus could possibly know so much about a subject so bland. As Romulus droned on, Harry's attention wandered despite his best efforts to focus on the subject at hand. If he was to be an undersecretary, wasn't his duty to pay attention to these things?
Even Cygnus seemed bored and he stood to stretch and loosen his legs as Romulus verbally sifted through the Wizengamot reports, analyzing the issues and explaining the reasons behind the stances of various factions on each issue.
As Harry watched Cygnus walk around, he finally convinced himself that he'd better listen carefully to Romulus's comments, and sit up in his chair. It appeared that Cygnus had become distracted. He was standing in front of one of the windows, pensively staring out into the blackness.
Romulus continued to drone and Harry paid attention, until a new distraction overtook him. He couldn't help but stare at Bellatrix's father. The profile view of his face helped Harry see for the first time how much the man had aged since Harry had first met him. They should have found someone else to be Minister, Harry observed sadly.
Harry sighed quietly and continued staring at Cygnus while trying to pay attention to Romulus. Abruptly, Cygnus frowned and leaned forward. His mouth twitched as if he was about to say something, but he wasn't fast enough. The window exploded, glass ricocheting across the room as Cygnus was thrown back against the opposite wall, hitting it with a thud so loud that Harry knew he could not have survived. Despite this, Harry jumped from his chair and darted over to Cygnus's prone form as Romulus drew his wand.
"He's dead," Harry gasped, looking from Cygnus's bloodied corpse up to Romulus.
Romulus set his jaw grimly and jabbed his wand toward the light fixtures overhead. The lights themselves became detached from the fixtures, taking the form of orbs. A swoop of Romulus's wand sent the lights shooting out the shattered window where they exploded like flares, one after another. Anyone outside would be temporarily blinded and very startled. It would buy them time.
Realizing that kneeling over Cygnus's dead body would do no good, Harry stood, moved across the room, and checked the fireplace, already anticipating that the floo would be blocked. He was correct. Further testing revealed that anti-apparition wards had also been erected alongside wards to prevent portkey travel.
Harry turned and watched as Romulus darted with lightning speed toward one of the unbroken windows, a glint in his eye. He arrived and parted the curtain delicately, so as not to attract the attention of the attackers outside. Joining Romulus at the window, Harry looked down at the front walk leading to Malfoy Manor. As Harry's eyes lighted upon the attackers very slowly approaching the manor' front entrance, his scar pricked. Voldemort was among them. The others were mostly indistinguishable, though Harry could tell that that they were probably not the students more recently recruited by Voldemort. They seemed older and walked with more confidence.
Though Harry did not immediately recognize any of the Death Eaters, Romulus did. "Lucius," he snarled, staring down at the approaching attackers.
Harry studied the approaching group of Death Eaters more closely and spotted Lucius, walking near Voldemort. He had missed seeing the former student because he had been lost in Voldemort's shadow.
There was a slight pause as Romulus continued to stare. Harry's instinct was to start blasting curses at the invaders, but he also wanted to see if Romulus had any better plans. "What do you want to do?" Harry asked urgently.
Romulus weighed his options silently but quickly. Quick as he was though, Harry felt like an eternity had been wasted. Romulus turned to Harry and stared him in the eye with an intensity that bordered on violence. "I'm going to distract them while you escape," Romulus announced. "I want you to go."
"I think we either both stay or leave together," Harry protested, glancing down at the attackers. For some reason, they had paused on the front walk, hesitant to enter the manor. Harry and Romulus's lack of reaction beyond the light flares had left them nervous that some trap was about to be sprung upon them.
Romulus ignored Harry's comment. He held up his hand, and without letting go of his wand, removed the Malfoy family ring. He gave it to Harry. "I've tried to disinherit Lucius, but there are complications. Fortunately, there is a loophole. You can take this ring and use it to access the Malfoy vault. There's no time to waste. As soon as you leave here, go to Gringotts and demand to see the night supervisor. Have the Malfoy gold removed from the vault and placed in another vault under you control. Every knut of it."
Harry stared at Romulus, not sure what to say.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Romulus said quietly. "We old men seemed to have failed. Our time is long past. It's up to you and whomever you can befriend. You've already got Bellatrix Black. She isn't a witch to sneeze at."
"I still think we can both make it," Harry said, finally overcoming his shock as he limply held the Malfoy ring. He and his friends had escaped worse situations in the future. On the other hand, the odds did not look good.
"My decision, Harry," Romulus declared. "Every decision hereafter will be yours, though. Do what you must to bring this bastard down."
They both glanced out the window and saw that some of the Death Eaters were summoning enough courage to approach closer to the house and use various charms to test for ambushes near the manor's main entrance. Harry supposed that this being their first true raid, the Death Eaters had yet to master the deadly efficiency and speed they would later employ in killing countless others.
"If you leave out the back, I think you'll escape notice if you're very careful," Romulus instructed Harry. Run as fast as you can until you've passed their anti-apparition wards. They'll be quite far out, I think. Both to keep us in and the aurors out. Then remember, straight to Gringotts. You must evacuate the gold immediately."
Harry nodded slowly, trying to absorb the reality of everything happening. He began to move away from Romulus and to the room's exit.
"Wait," said Romulus. "Get Cygnus's wand and ring. The ring is valuable, and Bellatrix will appreciate having her father's wand. You might also return here when the dark lords minions aren't overrunning the place. There's a safe in the floor. The ring will guide you to it and open it."
Realizing that time was running out, Harry moved quickly and retrieved the ring and wand from Cygnus's corpse, pocketing them. He then strode to the door. As he stepped out, a thought occurred to him, and he turned back into the room and to Romulus who was still watching the Death Eaters through the window.
"If I take your money, what about your wife?"
Romulus shook his head, and as he spoke, waved goodbye to Harry, a faint smile on his face. "She has her own bank account. She might even enjoy staying in Paris permanently."
"And your son? What if the war ends and he's still alive?"
Romulus turned away from Harry and resumed his tactical study of the invading forces through the dark window. "I have no son."
Lord Voldemort let a hiss of frustration escape from between his thin lips as he surveyed his Death Eaters cautiously inch toward Malfoy Manor. Cowards. He raised his wand, swung it forward and took aim at the double doors that guarded the entrance to the manor proper. A flaming impact hex burst forward, raced over the heads of his followers and collided with the doors, completely knocking down and destroying them.
"Our goal has been nearly achieved!" he shouted. "Forward!"
Feeling motivated, the Death Eaters rushed forward, even young Lucius Malfoy who was eager to please and caught in the excitement of the moment. Voldemort smiled in grim satisfaction. The young Malfoy heir would be invaluable. His pureblood influence and gold would be invaluable in the coming months and years. His influence might even go so far as to garner the election of a Minister less hostile toward Voldemort. The difficulty of Lucius having assaulted the Black girl would have to smoothed over. It wouldn't be hard, though. A little gold in the right pockets. Her father and uncle were dead and could hardly object.
The Death Eaters approached the smoldering entrance of Malfoy Manor quickly. However, their advance was abruptly impeded when one of the windows overlooking the front walk of the manor exploded, emitting two dozen flares which zoomed toward the attackers, letting out high-pitched whines. Reflexively, they all covered either their eyes or ears and ducked, hitting the ground.
Voldemort snarled, angry both at the cowardice of his own followers and the resistance being offered by Romulus Malfoy and Harry Ashworth. It was probably Malfoy manning the upper floor or front of the house. Ashworth would have launched fiendfyre by now. The thought of Ashworth caused Voldemort to twitch slightly. Being close to Ashworth always… tickled his mental defenses. Thinking about him also caused feelings Voldemort did not like-mostly because he did not understand them.
The whining flares continued to burst from the window. Having had enough, Voldemort lashed out, and the stonework around the window exploded inward. For good measure, Voldemort repeated the move on each window, hoping to catch the defenders indirectly with ricocheting stone, if not directly.
Silence reigned until Voldemort barked at his followers to move forward. However, before they could recover themselves another barrage of spells emitted from one of the former windows of Malfoy Manor. Voldemort shot several spells toward the hole in the wall, but Malfoy had stopped shooting spells before they made contact. In the lull, Voldemort's followers started scrambling toward the entrance. The only safety was in the manor, below the second floor where the defenders couldn't see them.
As they scrambled toward the entrance, Malfoy began to hurl killing curses downward. Voldemort began shooting back, not wanting to lose followers so early in his campaign. Oddly though, Malfoy's spells kept missing his Death Eaters. Voldemort frowned, wondering how it was possible that a veteran dueler like Romulus Malfoy could miss so often. Suddenly, the dark lord realized what was going on. He was aiming for one specific, moving target. His own son, Lucius.
Voldemort waved his wand and summoned Lucius Malfoy through the air to safety. "Stay here," Voldemort hissed, planting Lucius behind a hedge. "Don't come out. I'll handle this."
The dark lord then swept up the path. "Fall back," he commanded. He shot a barrage of spells toward the manor, providing a distraction while his Death Eaters retreated. When they were reasonably far from Romulus Malfoy's position, Voldemort gave instructions. "Kick up a racket. Keep him distracted. Make lots of noise and light, but don't try to directly engage him." The red gleam in his eyes punctuated his words and instilled in them a motivation to follow his orders. Voldemort then disillusioned himself and slithered away.
Panting, Harry slowed down and turned back long enough to look at Malfoy Manor. The explosions and bursts of light had intensified. Apparently, Romulus was putting up a strong fight. He turned and resumed his pace, thankful for the physical intensity of his more recent drills in the Room of Requirement. He had lost some of his physical endurance since arriving in the past, but he reckoned he would be regaining it pretty quickly.
As he ran, he felt his scar prick again. Harry thought he might feel murderous intent coming from Voldemort. Romulus had apparently become a thorn in the dark lord's side. Though the connection between Harry and the Voldemort of the past was weaker than the connection in the future, Harry could still ascertain some of the dark lord's more intense feelings when in close proximity to Voldemort. Fortunately, the mental strength Harry had been forced to develop during the war in the future dulled the connection somewhat.
Still running, Harry felt a subtle change in the air around him via his magical senses and realized that he had finally passed through the Death Eaters' anti-apparition wards. With a sigh of relief, he glanced back at Malfoy Manor and then apparated away.
The elusive tickle in Voldemort's mind vanished, and the dark lord knew that Harry Ashworth had escaped. He had probably exited the manor during the racket Malfoy had raised. It's a small matter, Voldemort reassured himself. Now I will not have to worry about him ambushing me . Cygnus Black had been the primary objective of the excursion, Romulus Malfoy the secondary. Ashworth would have been icing on the cake. Without the Blacks and Malfoy, Ashworth was now a nobody, albeit a well-informed one. He could be dispatched with ease later. Clearing his head and focusing on the task at hand, Voldemort crept up the stairs toward the second floor where he could hear his Death Eaters exchanging spellfire with Romulus Malfoy.
The noise led Voldemort to the room where Malfoy had chosen to make his stand. The door to the room was open, and Voldemort peered in. He was surprised to see that the Malfoy patriarch was not directly next to the windows from where his original spells had come. Rather, Malfoy seemed to have taken refuge on the side of the fireplace opposite from the door.
Voldemort cursed his luck. He might have been able to snipe Malfoy from the darkened hallway had he still been in front of the windows. Cautiously, Voldemort observed Malfoy's actions. Apparently, Romulus was confident that none of the Death Eater spells would find him, for he was not firing defensive cures. Rather, he was hurling spells designed to create mass damage and noise outside of the windows.
Grudgingly, Voldemort admitted that Malfoy's dueling strategy was successful. No longer were spells that Malfoy needed to worry about even coming into the room, though that had not been the case for the entire duel. Strewn across the room were debris, books, the remains of glass bottles, and splintered furniture. The air reeked of potions that had spilled and soaked the carpet. Indeed, the fumes were so thick, that it was difficult to see across the entire room. Voldemort would have liked to believe his Death Eaters were responsible for the damage, but he suspected that most of it had come from his own spells.
Grimly, Voldemort used a number of spells to hide himself and then crept into the room. It took a number of minutes, but Voldemort was finally able to maneuver into a position where he could take a clear shot at Romulus Malfoy.
Malfoy was a mess, but there was a grim look on his face as he leaned back against the wall and continued to fire curses while he leaned on what seemed to be a walking stick. Voldemort's thin lips curled into a smile of glee. It was over. He raised his wand and shouted the killing curse, simultaneously allowing his illusory shields to drop. He wanted Malfoy to see the dark lord as life left him.
Malfoy's eyes widened with surprise as he saw Voldemort materialize and shoot the green light of the killing curse toward him. Voldemort relished the surprise. But then something unexpected happened. Instead of fear in Romulus's eyes, Voldemort saw triumph. The killing curse struck, and Malfoy froze and began to slump over, losing grip of his walking stick. The stick began to fall, and Voldemort's eyes traced its path to the floor. The spot on the floor where Malfoy had been standing was surrounded by a boundary of runes burned into the carpet. The stick would fall on the ground outside of the rune boundary.
Too late, Voldemort realized that he had walked into a trap. The stick had been charmed to trigger a magical reaction. Reflexively, the dark lord grabbed for the stick, but then realized at the last moment that he would not be quick enough. Hurriedly he put his hands up to shield his face, doing so just as the stick made contact with the carpet, landing crosswise over the boundary of runes.
A deafening explosion shook the entire manor as a whoosh of air signaled that the potions and fumes spread throughout the entire room had ignited. Voldemort screamed as he felt exposed parts of his head and arms burn.
The Gringotts night supervisor was not particularly thrilled to receive a visit from Harry. Neither had been the guards outside of the bank. Only after Harry had made it clear that he was a wealthy client has he been allowed in.
"Your story is rather incredible," the supervisor goblin said after listening to Harry repeat the essential details for the third time.
Harry shoved the ring in front of the goblin's face. "Yet you have already admitted that I could not have obtained the Malfoy ring without the consent of Romulus Malfoy."
The goblin scratched his chin, more out of annoyance than thoughtfulness. "Put it on."
"What?"
"I want to see you wear it," the goblin said.
Harry ground his teeth, but acquiesced, slipping the ring onto one of his fingers. He and the goblin then stood in the bank lobby watching each other. Apparently, the night supervisor of Gringotts thought that something bad might happen to Harry if he had come to possess the ring through illicit means.
Finally, the goblin admitted defeat. "Moving the entire monetary assets of the Malfoy family is not a small job," he said. "Even if we are only moving it to a new vault within the bank."
"Then, by all means, help yourself to a generous gratuity," Harry said. "Both for the bank and for the personal pockets of the goblins involved in the job."
A greedy gleam in the goblin's eyes signaled that Harry had finally struck a deal. The goblin hobbled over to one of the teller desks and grabbed a number of sheets of parchment. "Fill out these forms," he directed before disappearing from the lobby into some side hallway.
Harry accepted the forms and filled them out as quickly as he could. The Malfoy gold was to be moved to a cash-only vault. The owner of the vault wished to be known as… James Evans. Mr. James Evans would have broad access privileges to the money through standard means as well as through muggle and/or international banks.
After nearly half an hour, the goblin returned and accepted the papers Harry had filled out. "James Evans?" he asked. "How many names do you have, Mr. Potter?"
"Is it a problem?" Harry asked.
"I guess not," muttered the goblin as he retreated, leaving Harry alone for another half an hour. Finally, the grudging goblin returned and handed Harry a key to the vault. "Is there anything else you desire," he asked.
Even if there was, Harry did not think he would have bothered asking. Not to this goblin anyway. But he did have some informational questions. "You won't point your finger at me if anyone comes asking about the gold that used to be in the Malfoy vault, will you?"
"We will protect your fake name to the extent the law allows us," the goblin said, his lips curving into a smirk over the thought of Harry's pseudonym. "Your action in seizing the gold was lawful. If the Malfoy heirs express dissatisfaction with being deprived of their gold we may, however, advise the Malfoy heirs that any future earnings from their properties ought to be safeguarded in a vault that doesn't open for the old Malfoy ring."
"I guess that is the most I can ask for," Harry said.
He left the bank and made his way down Diagon Alley. The shops were closed. The only sign of life came from the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry sighed. Stopping for a butterbeer at the pub was very tempting, but he didn't want to be anywhere around when the news of Cygnus's death spread. I guess I'll have to go notify Bellatrix, he told himself as he trudged away from the bank and to where he could apparate.
Alastor Moody glared at the snake-eating skull hovering in the sky above what remained of Malfoy Manor. Apparently the mysterious dark lord had created a calling card for use at attacks-real attacks. Not those farces up in Scotland. Moody scanned the grounds, his eyes passing over the corpses of Minister Black's late bodyguards. He cursed whoever it had been that had allowed half of them to go to Scotland to help put down the red herring attack. Not that it would have helped to have the full contingent. Based on the devastation outside of the manor alone, they had not stood a chance. They might have held out longer, though.
He was just preparing to return to the inside of the manor when Director Prewitt arrived. Despite the late, evening hour, Prewitt's clothes were impeccable, though the man himself seemed quite harried and permanently startled. "Have you confirmed that Minister Black's body is present?
"Yes," said Moody, "his death has been confirmed from the corpse, or what's left of it anyway."
"Left of it?" Prewitt asked.
"Looks like Malfoy gave the attackers hell," Moody said, quoting what one of the junior aurors had said after seeing the manor close up and in detail. He liked the thought of the older wizard holding off a bunch of ruffians. "We think he firebombed the manor from within. He may have even killed some of the attackers. We can't know for sure. They didn't leave anyone or anything behind."
Director Prewitt bit his lip absently. "You think maybe Malfoy deliberately committed suicide to take them out?"
"No," Moody said. "We found his corpse. Definitely the killing curse. He must have set some trap or chain reaction to get whoever did it."
Prewitt nodded and took a break from asking questions. The site of the ruined manor, some parts of it still smoldering fascinated him. Moody too found the property fascinating. Whatever Malfoy had done must have been spectacular to watch. The walls and infrastructure of Malfoy Manor still stood, but for the most part, the building had been completely gutted. A great deal of money and construction might restore the manor to its former glory, but not for some time yet.
"Ashworth was here tonight," Prewitt said. "Some of the Minister's bodyguards who were sent up to the attack in Scotland told me."
"Didn't find his body," Moody said. "Either he had the good fortune to leave before the attack or he managed to escape."
"If he escaped, why didn't he notify us of the ongoing attack?" Prewitt mused.
"You're assuming he didn't leave before the attack occurred," Moody said. "It doesn't matter, though. There's no way he did this. It's more than clear that the attackers came from the outside and practically had to lay siege. Further, killing Malfoy and Black does nothing for Ashworth. He has now lost the influence he had over the Ministry."
"Yes, you're right," Prewitt mused. "You might still look into it during your investigation, however."
Moody nodded. He had every intention of doing so. Ashworth no longer had influence, but he had knowledge that the Order would need. He might even be able to clearly identify the attackers.
"I'll leave you to this," Prewitt told Moody. "The Wizengamot is convening, and I must report on the situation. I think we'd better step up our guard until we can come to a complete understanding of what happened here and what the implications are. I want you to get to the bottom of this quickly and then start drafting proposals to prevent and defend from these sorts of attacks."
Moody watched his superior's retreating back and imagined what tales he would tell the Wizengamot. Though Prewitt had not seen the body of Cygnus Black, he would nevertheless tell a moving tale of the horrific death the man had experienced. He would then warn them of the dangers witches and wizards everywhere faced. He was a politician to the bone, but Moody took comfort in the fact that the wizard who would undoubtedly become Minister of Magic was a fighter.
Hogwarts was gloomy. The curfew had not quite arrived, yet an oppressive silence reigned over the castle. This told Harry that the news had arrived ahead of him while he had been waiting on the pleasure of the Gringotts goblins. Bellatrix would know by now. Harry made his way toward the Gryffindor dorms. He hoped more than expected to find Bellatrix there. It would make his job easier. He could tell the news and, if the situation dictated, could tactfully retreat, leaving her in peace to mourn her father.
It had not occurred to Harry that he might have difficulty getting into the dorm, not knowing the password and not knowing being the head of house, but upon arriving in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, it opened to reveal Sirius Black. It seemed that Sirius had been looking for Harry, probably using the Marauders Map.
"Professor," Sirius said, looking rather depressed, "were you there?"
Harry nodded as Sirius motioned for him to come into Gryffindor Tower. He climbed in, and the portrait closed behind him. The common room was mostly empty. A number of students sat silently doing their homework, Lily Evans among them. Upon sighting Harry, she made a retreat toward her dorm. Harry presumed that she was going to notify Bellatrix that Harry had arrived.
Sirius continued looking at Harry, clearly expecting details or some sort of comfort. Unable to deny his once and future godfather, Harry tried to explain briefly. "We were at Malfoy Manor. Cygnus was dead before we even knew what was happening.
"Was the dark lord there?" Sirius whispered.
"Yeah," said Harry.
"How did you escape?"
"Old Malfoy sacrificed himself," Harry said dully, movement at the stairs catching his attention. Bellatrix was descending. "You're going to have to excuse me," Harry told Sirius, nodding toward Bellatrix who was approaching.
Bellatrix made it to where Harry was standing as Sirius walked away and found a seat next to where James was quietly studying. For the first time that Harry could remember, Bellatrix was completely speechless, though her violet eyes, which seemed larger than usual, peered into Harry's own eyes expressing what Harry thought might be desperation. Harry quickly recognized that she was still in shock.
"I… I would have defended him," Harry told her quietly. "But it was a surprise attack. Death was instantaneous. He didn't have a chance."
She nodded and then looked at the floor. It seemed she didn't hold Harry responsible-at least with regard to the immediate events of the night. Harry could have hurled a few accusations at himself. His meddling in time had put Cygnus in the path of Voldemort. On the other hand, Harry wasn't sure how long Cygnus had survived before his jaunt into the past.
Beginning to feel very awkward, Harry put his hand on her shoulder and tried to impart comfort. "I'm sorry."
She nodded silently, and the couple stood silently as the Gryffindor students scrupulously kept themselves too preoccupied to watch the exchange, giving Harry and Bellatrix a measure of privacy. Deciding that it was the right time, Harry took his hand from her shoulder and retrieved Cygnus's wand, as well as the ring Malfoy had given Cygnus only recently. Harry proffered them to her. "I got these from him," Harry said. He couldn't bring himself to say body or corpse .
Bellatrix accepted the wand and ring, clutching them in her fist. "Thank you," she whispered. "I think I need to go rest."
Harry nodded. "Of course."