Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Moments in Love	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 175861 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 14
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the story.

Chapter List
- 75
- 76
- 77
The Coup

The next few weeks passed with little incident and another page on the calendar turned, but winter seemed to be stubbornly hanging on in northern Britain when another cold-snap brought late snow-storms to Hogwarts during the first week of March. The Coven had settled into their routine of school during the week, and home on the weekends. But the feeling that something imminent was about to happen never left them.
In that time, Samantha Mason gradually got used to being a witch, and used to being around children her own age again. She and her mother were taken under Hestia Jones’ wing, in whose quarters they were both staying.
Likewise, Gemma Dawson began acclimating to her new status, being tutored by Hestia Jones, and by the professors after regular classes, and residing in a new suite in the Unaffiliated “House” with her sister Clara.
Daphne couldn’t help but feel a sense of kinship, seeing her own younger sister whenever she looked at Samantha. Likewise, Jennifer, despite feeling a bit discomforted by the reminder of the similarity of her experiences to Samantha’s and Gemma’s, made herself available any time they just wanted to talk about things.
Indeed, the entire Coven went out of their way to make Samantha and Gemma feel welcome. Luna, Ginny, and Parvati introduced them to wizarding games. Fleur and Dora had taken to their roles as “Teacher’s Assistants” very seriously, making every effort to help the new witches with their studies, and Dora began teaching them both self-defence techniques. Harry and Hermione joined in whatever was going on at every opportunity, whenever they weren’t busy themselves.
If any of the professors thought it odd that the two new entrants to wizarding society were “late bloomers,” having only recently and coincidentally discovered their magic after being rescued by the Potters and their friends, they kept it to themselves.

~o0o~
It was late Thursday evening, and the Potters lay awake in bed in their private chambers, bathed in the warm glow of the fire crackling in the hearth. Crookshanks yawned and flicked his bushy orange tail before curling it around Hedwig, both of them settling in for a nap as there was little point in taking a midnight prowl in a snowstorm.
Hermione sighed contentedly as she gently kneaded Harry’s chest while he stroked her tawny coils of hair.
“Hermione,” said Harry after they had been laying in silence for a few moments, “I’ve been thinking...”
“Yes Harry?”
“Er... I’ve been wondering, what if we could turn more muggles into wizards? D’you think we should?”
Hermione frowned, biting her lip pensively as she mulled it over. She had to admit, the thought had crossed her mind more than once in the last few weeks, and she still wasn’t entirely certain that they had done the right thing, triggering the activation of Samantha’s and Gemma’s recessive magical genes in the process of helping them get over the worst of their PTSD.
It felt right, and Hermione knew she would do it again without hesitation under the exact same set of circumstances, but questions still niggled in the back of her mind. Harry’s fingers continued caressing her hair while he waited patiently for her answer.
“I’m really not sure Harry,” Hermione sighed after several minutes passed. “I know it seems like it might be a good thing, but there’s so much to consider. For one thing, not everyone might want to be a wizard - lots of people are frightened of magic or don’t understand it. And not everyone would use magic for Good. We need to be very careful about who we consider turning.”
“Yeah,” said Harry, nodding in agreement, “I was sort of thinking the same thing now. At first I thought it would be great to give everyone magic, but then I started to have second thoughts. I was thinking about Puddleby - what if our Patronuses accidentally turned a few muggles into wizards?”
“Well, I don’t think we ought to worry about that too much. I doubt very many people came into contact with our Patronuses, and any who do start showing signs of magic could be trained to use it properly. It would only be a problem if too many people became wizards all at once... There aren’t enough wizards qualified to train everybody.”
“Are you sure?” Harry looked troubled. “It’s just... I don’t want to cause more problems for Dumbledore - especially not with the International Confederation of Wizards now that they’re on our side. The Ministry is already blaming him for giving muggles wands and teaching them how to be wizards... If anyone finds out what we did, they might think it’s true.”
“That’s true,” Hermione admitted ruefully. “But it’s all a fraud, Harry. We already know that the Pureblood Supremacists in the Department of Mysteries are just making things up to go after Dumbledore and you. They’re just using a statistical analysis of the increase in muggleborn wizards as a basis for their false claims.
“Whatever happens in Puddleby won’t make a whit of difference one way or another, and there’s really no way for anyone to prove that we actually turned people into wizards with our Patronuses. Nobody would ever believe it.”
“Okay!” Harry sighed with relief. “Thanks Hermione, that’s a load off my mind...”

~o0o~
The scruffy bewhiskered old bartender in the pub which smelled vaguely of goats pointed his wand at the dying embers in the hearth. Fresh logs appeared and the fire sparked to life, orange flames crackling merrily. The three unkempt wizards nursing firewhiskeys and ales at a cracked table near the fireplace nodded in gratitude. The bartender grunted and shuffled back to the bar.
At that moment, the rickety front door of the pub burst open, letting in a flurry of snow and revealing a half-frozen wizard in a thick blue cloak and a long woolen scarf wrapped many times round his neck. The shivering wizard slammed the door shut and brushed the dusting of snow off his shoulders, glancing around the pub, his eyes wild.
“What’ll it be?” asked the bartender grumpily, paying little heed to the panicked state of the new arrival. The other wizard stared at the surly looking barman for a moment.
“Dumbledore,” gasped the potential customer.
“Yeah, that’s me,” snapped Aberforth. “So whaddya want? Ale? Brandy? Elf-wine? ...”
“No... I mean Headmaster Dumbledore!” the other wizard interjected. “We need him... NOW!”
Aberforth scowled and turned away. “Hmmph! Bloody Albus... it’s always about him, isn’t it!? Anyone’d think ‘e’s the only Dumbledore. Dunno why I even bother to...”
“Blast it man! You’re his brother aren’t you? You must have a way to contact him. We need his help right now - there’s a horde of Inferi bearing down on Hogsmeade as we speak...”

~o0o~
The wind howled outside, snow piling up against the castle walls, and Harry was glad it was Friday, looking forward to Dorset where Spring was already blooming. Classes had let out for the day and he and Hermione were packing a few things into their bags for their weekend at home when Professor McGonagall’s crisp voice emanated from Harry’s mirror.
“Thank Goodness!” McGonagall exclaimed when she saw Harry’s face in the mirror. “No time to explain Mr Potter... The headmaster needs to see you - all of you, the Unaffiliated - in his office immediately.”
“Er... of course. We’ll be there right away,” said Harry, feeling a sense of trepidation at McGonagall’s tone.
Dropping everything, Harry and Hermione began knocking on everyone’s door, and the members of the Coven spilled into the corridor, looking bewildered.
“What’s going on, Harry?” asked Ginny as Parvati and Luna crowded around her.
“Is it the Minister?” asked Parvati, the question which was on everyone’s mind.
“Could be, or maybe Inferi, but I dunno for sure,” Harry replied as he knocked on Dora and Fleur’s door. “McGonagall didn’t say...”
“All we know is that it’s really urgent,” Hermione added.
When Daphne and Jennifer finally joined the others, everyone was gathered, and the Coven hurriedly made their way through the castle. The gargoyle leapt out of the way when they arrived at the entrance of Dumbledore’s tower, not even bothering to ask for the password.
The Potters and the rest of the Coven bustled into Dumbledore’s office, surprised to find it packed with wizards and witches. Among them were Kingsley Shacklebolt, Madam Bones, Dawlish, and a number of others that they knew to be members of the Order of the Phoenix.
“Ah, Harry...” said Dumbledore, turning from his conversation with Madam Bones to greet the Coven, “Thank you and your companions for coming so quickly. Sirius, Remus, and Alastor should be joining us shortly as well.”
“Sir,” Harry began, “Professor McGonagall seemed a bit upset. Is there an Inferi attack?”
“Of a sort, Harry,” replied the headmaster. “According to Aberforth, Hogsmeade is being invaded as we speak...”
The Coven gasped at Dumbledore’s pronouncement. The headmaster carried on before anyone had a chance to interrupt.
“...However, this was not entirely unexpected. I believe that the moment has arrived Harry. The Inferi incursion is unusual in that nobody in Hogsmeade has been killed as of yet...”
“Then we should deal with them before anyone does get killed, shouldn’t we sir?” said Harry, unable to help himself.
“In due time Harry; however, we should not respond with undue haste, before taking stock of the situation. I do not believe this to be a random attack, and I suspect that these are not contagious Inferi. The fact that the Inferi are menacing, but holding back, suggests that the Minister is baiting her trap for us...”
Harry’s eyes widened in understanding.
“It would appear that Minister Umbridge is loath to wipe out Britain’s largest All-Wizard community,” Dumbledore continued, “lest she lose the support of some of her closest allies, and experience further erosion of whatever public relations advantage that she currently retains. I have no doubt that Ministry forces are at the ready to arrest us the moment we arrive to rescue Hogsmeade.”
“But you have a plan, don’t you?” said Hermione.
“Indeed I do Mrs Potter,” Dumbledore nodded. “Of course, trap or not, we must meet this challenge head on. I have called upon the rest of the Order to join us in this engagement. Given Hogsmeade’s proximity to Hogwarts it is my contention that Minister Umbridge will have brought most of the Ministry’s forces to bear against us, seeking to end this conflict once and for all.”
Harry swallowed as he and Hermione shared a look with the rest of the Coven. This was it then - the moment had come which would determine the future of Britain, win or lose.
“Right! We’re ready sir,” said Harry resolutely. “So when are leaving for Hogsmeade?” Harry was surprised to see a twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes.
“Actually Harry, you and your companions will not be entering the village,” the headmaster replied.
“What?” gasped Fleur. The entire Coven looked equally flabbergasted.
“But sir! ... You just said...” Dora blurted out.
Harry felt his blood rushing in his ears, unable to believe that Dumbledore was going to keep him out of things with the end in sight. This was what all the training had been for. And hadn’t he and the Coven proved more than once that they could handle themselves in battle?
“So, you’re not letting us fight then?” A hint of anger crept into Harry’s voice.
“Oh, indeed your skills shall certainly be put to the test,” Dumbledore retorted, almost cheerfully. “Just not in Hogsmeade. No Harry... I am sending you and your companions to take the Ministry!”
“Wait... What?” Harry’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t certain that he’d heard correctly.
“You and your team shan’t be alone,” Dumbledore went on. “You will also be accompanied by certain Order members - those best positioned to take up their former positions of Authority: Madam Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and John Dawlish. Sirius, Remus, and a number of others shall also be going along to back you up.
“While the Minister is distracted - her eyes on Hogsmeade - she will not be expecting an attack on the Ministry itself. I believe that she will be here personally to oversee our capture. It is also probable that she will return to the Ministry should her plans for us here fall awry. This is our best chance to capture the Minister, either in Hogsmeade or at the Ministry.”
“But what about the Inferi?” piped up Daphne. “Aren’t we needed to deal with them?”
“And won’t Minister Umbridge be expecting to see Harry in Hogsmeade?” asked Hermione.
“As to the Inferi, I have devised a new spell for dealing with them en masse,” Dumbledore responded, eyes twinkling. “Or rather, after much experimentation, I have modified an existing spell to mimic the effects of your remarkable Patronuses.
“It is a variation on the Immolation Curse, which will only be effective against those who are already dead, and it has also been refashioned to work on large numbers, rather than individuals. I doubt that it will be quite as powerful and effective as your special talent, but it should suffice. Groups of Inferi will be halted in their tracks as they internally combust, immobile and unable to catch fire to their surroundings.
“And as to Harry, Mrs Potter, indeed the Minister will be expecting to see him in Hogsmeade. That is why I will be asking Harry to provide me with a few of his hairs...”
“Polyjuice potion!” Hermione gasped, glancing at Harry worriedly, knowing immediately that he wouldn’t like this part of the plan. “You’re going to polyjuice someone to look like Harry!”
“Very good Mrs Potter. You are quite correct,” Dumbledore agreed. “Several someones in fact. I have six volunteers prepared to be Harry...”
Harry’s features visibly paled, then his brow knitted and his jaw set as the colour flooded back into his cheeks.
“No,” he said loudly, feeling a rush of heat as he stared mutinously at Dumbledore, “No way! ... No bloody way! ...”
“Saw that coming,” Dora muttered to Fleur, half-smirking.
Fleur nodded, a little smile creeping to her own lips. Jennifer and Ginny both tried smothering giggles; Luna, Parvati, and Daphne all peered at Harry sympathetically. Everyone knew Harry all too well. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, his clear blue eyes twinkling, and Madam Bones coughed uncomfortably, adjusting her monocle.
“Harry,” Hermione peered at him beseechingly, “don’t you see Dumbledore’s plan? If we can make it look like you’re still in the village, the Minister will never suspect that you’ll be leading an incursion of the Ministry.”
“Yeah... I get it! But it’s not safe,” said Harry angrily. “Whoever looks like me is going to be a target...”
“That’s the idea, Potter,” growled a voice that Harry recognised. Harry spun around to see Mad Eye Moody entering Dumbledore’s office with Sirius and Remus.
Sirius gave Harry a wink. “Problem Harry?”
“Professor Dumbledore wants to paint a target on half a dozen people’s backs!” Harry burst out.
“We’re all targets anyway,” the heavily scarred ex-auror next to Sirius said sharply. “This isn’t the time for being noble Potter! We’ve all got jobs to do and we need to get a move on. The time for sitting around and jawin’ is over and done...”
“I understand how you feel Harry,” Lupin offered, shooting a reproachful look at Moody, his voice gentle, “but Mad Eye is right. We are all in danger regardless of who we look like. The Minister’s forces won’t hesitate to use deadly force on each and every one us...”
“Remus and Mad Eye are right, Harry,” Sirius gave Harry an earnest look. “Many of us have been in the cross-hairs longer than you’ve been alive, from people like the Minister and Voldemort. We all know the risks. ... We were able to finish Voldemort, and now it’s Umbridge’s turn - and it’s all down to you and Hermione and your friends, Harry.
“I couldn’t be prouder of you, and your parents would be proud too, and they both knew that sacrifices sometimes had to be made to fight evil. ... Harry, you and Dumbledore are at the centre of this fight - as leaders, and as the focal point of Evil’s obsessions - but the rest of us have parts to play in it as well. You and Dumbledore don’t have to bear the burden alone...”
“Indeed, this is so, Harry,” Dumbledore interjected, his eyes now serious. “I am no more comfortable than you at the idea of putting some among us at potentially greater risk than others, but this must be done. The confusion this will sow among the Minister’s forces will be a great advantage.”
Harry swallowed anxiously as he wavered, glancing at Hermione, then at Sirius, and back at Dumbledore again. Finally, he nodded and sighed resignedly.
“Yeah, alright... okay,” said Harry, his voice hardening. “Let’s do this then...”

~o0o~
A murmur went up in the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall had assembled all the students and given them the news that Hogsmeade was under siege by Inferi and the Ministry. Quite a number of anxious pupils had gathered at the Mingling Table to discuss the situation.
“So... what are we gonna do?” asked Ron. “I know Harry’s going to fight. We have t’do something too - we can’t just sit this one out.”
“Well said little brother!” Fred grinned, heartily slapping Ron on the back.
“Hear, hear!” said George, nodding.
“But you heard McGonagall,” said Padma anxiously. “Only students who are of age are allowed to fight.”
“So what?” Susan Bones frowned. “If the Inferi or the Ministry attacked Hogwarts too, we’d have to fight anyway. We don’t really have a choice if we want to stop them from hurting people we care about. My auntie is going to fight them, and so am I. Isn’t this what we’ve been all been training for these past weeks?”
“Absolutely!” Neville exclaimed, his eyes burning with resolve. “All of our practice with fighting spells won’t mean anything if we don’t use it to help. We need to do our bit too.”
“Okay... You’re right!” Padma agreed. “Of course we have to help. I didn’t mean that we shouldn’t, I was just pointing out that McGonagall and the other professors might try to stop us...”
“They’ll be too busy for that,” said Fred dismissively.
“But how do we get to Hogsmeade and avoid the Inferi?” asked Seamus. “We haven’t learned how to apparate yet...”
“Brooms,” answered Viktor Krum. “I vos going to suggest zat for the younger students to begin with, but I think brooms is ze best for us anyvay. Ve vill fly to Hogsmeade and attack from the sky.”
“Of course...” Cedric’s eyes lit up, “Brilliant, Viktor!” Cho smiled and nodded her agreement.
“Smashing! I’m in!” said Angelina.
“Count us in then.” Alicia and Katie Bell both nodded as well.
“Me too,” Dean added.
“Alright... this could work! We’re all in too then,” said Blaise Zabini, glancing at Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott.
Theo flexed his prosthetic fingers and grinned at Blaise and Pansy. Over the past few months Theo had grown used to using a wand with his left hand. And upon his return to Hogwarts, Dumbledore had developed the prosthetic fingers for Theo. They would work well enough to hold a broom with his right hand.
Viktor nodded his approval and glanced at the rest. Hannah Abbott and Ernie MacMillan nodded back, and two of the Ravenclaws, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, indicated their readiness as well. A murmur of agreement swept through the rest of the small crowd.
“Very good!” said Viktor. “Ve shall slip away when McGonagall is busy. Just to keep in mind vhen fighting, zat Reductor spells are best for Inferi...”

~o0o~
Minister Dolores Umbridge shivered slightly as the shadows of the mountains crept over Hogsmeade and the afternoon - dark as it already was under grey skies and falling snow - turned to dusk. She ignored the brief flicker of doubt and recast her warming charm, peering below at the town, searching for signs of Dumbledore and Potter. From their vantage point on the rooftop terrace of the Three Broomsticks, the Minister and her deputy, Senior Undersecretary Percy Weasley, could see most of the town.
Several thousand Inferi milled in the snowy streets, doing little else but lurching and groaning. Just out of sight in corners, alleyways, and shadows, the bulk of the Ministry of Magic’s forces - Unspeakables, Snatchers, Death Eaters, and the few remaining Aurors who hadn’t resigned in protest - lay in wait for the expected Insurrectionists to arrive.
Senior Undersecretary Percy Weasley examined the strange device in his hand, marveling again at the new invention from the Department of Mysteries. It struck Percy as somewhat ironic that he was in possession of a piece of magical technology with which his father would be utterly fascinated. The magical communication device was based on a muggle technology - two way radios - crafted specifically for occasions such as this which required instant communications.
Minister Umbridge nodded at Percy, indicating that he should do a check. Percy pressed a button and cleared his throat.
“Calling all Units,” he began, hoping that his voice didn‘t give away his nervousness, “any sign of Dumbledore or Potter?”
A voice crackled on the magical two-way radio. “Unit One responding - nothing here yet...”
“Nothing to report here either,” said a second voice.
“Wait...” said a third, “I think... something’s happening...”

~o0o~
Warlock Crabbe cursed the cold, briskly rubbing his frozen hands together and wishing that something would just happen already. Warlock Goyle raised his eyes at his fidgeting companion. Several of the Unspeakables stationed with the two Death Eaters frowned.
“Keep quiet,” one of the Unspeakables hissed, “We don’t want to...”
The ringing sound of a number of loud apparition cracks in the street interrupted the disdainful Unspeakable. At the same time, the Senior Undersecretary’s youthful voice could be heard emanating from the newfangled contraption in the Unspeakable’s hand.
“Wait... I think... something’s happening,” the Unspeakable muttered in response.
Indeed, the street lit up and more cracks rang out as spells were cast by the half a dozen wizards who had just arrived. The previously listless Inferi lumbered into action and swarmed the wizards; individually, the groaning reanimated corpses proved little match for the Reductor spells cast by the newcomers, but they made up for it with their greater numbers.
In the flickering lights of the spells, two of the wizards were instantly recognisable; a tall wizard with a long silvery beard, and a young one with round glasses and a messy black moptop.
“It’s Dumbledore and Potter,” the Unspeakable barked into the magical two way.
“Take them now!” screeched Minister Umbridge’s voice from the device. “Use any means necessary.”
Crabbe and Goyle grinned at each other. Finally, their chance to avenge themselves and the Dark Lord was upon them.

~o0o~
Minister Umbridge cackled gleefully as she peered over the balcony, looking in the direction from where the first sounds of fighting were coming. Suddenly, more apparition cracks echoed through the town, and soon the sound of pitched battle could be heard throughout Hogsmeade.
The Minister and her deputy knew that it must be the rest of the Order arriving to put down the Inferi, but they were relatively unconcerned. Dumbledore and Potter were the priority, and the Order was surely outnumbered by the Ministry’s forces and distracted by the Inferi.
“But why isn’t Potter using the Secret Weapon yet?” Percy muttered, frowning in puzzlement, as a flicker of uncertainty crossed his mind. “Something’s wrong!”
“Perhaps Potter requires his mate - the Mudblood...” Dolores suggested. “The spell may require more than one to activate.”
“But where is she then?” Percy asked. The magical two-way crackled to life again, interrupting Percy’s pondering.
“I’ve got him,” said an excited voice. “Potter... I’ve just stunned Potter - outside Zonko’s.”
“That can’t be!” Dolores scowled. “He’s with Dumbledore outside the Post Office right now.”
“No he’s not,” said another voice belonging to a witch. “I’ve got Potter in my sights outside of Tomes and Scrolls.”
“They can’t all be Potter,” Percy fumed.
“POLYJUICE!” screamed Dolores. “But one of them has to be the real one! I don’t care how many Potters there are. Bring them all to me right now, and we’ll soon sort this out. But I need Dumbledore and the Potters alive - kill all the others if you have to.”

~o0o~
Dumbledore whirled around gracefully, a jet of bright silvery magic lancing from his wand. A score of Inferi halted in their tracks and shuddered; sparks and flame burst from their eyes and mouths as their flesh withered and blackened.
Spells shot out from the dark alley between the Post Office and the Grocery shop, exploding in the midst of the Order members who were fighting the Inferi. Cut off from the others by the smoke, and distracted by another group of the Undead bearing down on them, Dumbledore and the boy who looked like Harry Potter were quickly disarmed by Expelliarmus spells.
Ropes conjured from thin air bound the headmaster and the boy. Warlocks Crabbe and Goyle chortled as each grabbed a prisoner and disapparated, marveling at how easy it had been to capture Dumbledore and Potter. Moments later they reappeared on the rooftop terrace of the Three Broomsticks.
“What the Bloody Hell?” gasped Goyle.
Crabbe was equally flabbergasted to see a number of Unspeakables with five more Harry Potters in their clutches. Senior Undersecretary Weasley looked disconcerted to see so many Potters. Minister Umbridge’s features were livid.
“How many more?” she snarled at Dumbledore. “How many Potters did you make?”
Dumbledore regarded the Minister calmly. “Well now, surely you don’t expect me to make this easy for you, do you Minister Umbridge?”
“It was easy enough to capture you,” the Minister snapped. “And if you don’t tell me what I wish to know, some Veritaserum should loosen your tongue.”
“I expect so,” said Dumbledore cheerfully. “Unless of course, we have all imbibed the counter-potion to Veritaserum before embarking on our mission to rescue Hogsmeade.”
“Impossible!” The Minister looked briefly discomfited. “You would have had to know that we would be here to catch you...”
“Quite so,” Dumbledore interjected, his eyes twinkling.
“But the Ministry has been purged,” Percy asserted. “You can’t possibly have any moles left on the inside.”
“Perhaps,” Dumbledore replied. “Regardless, I did not need a mole to suspect that you would likely attempt to capture Harry and myself during our next encounter with the Inferi. In fact, you were all too predictable...”
“Ridiculous!” sputtered Minister Umbridge. “So you’re saying that you expect me to believe that you just waltzed in here knowingly and just... allowed yourself to be captured?”
“Indeed,” said Dumbledore serenely.
Silence reigned on the snowy rooftop of the Three Broomsticks while the Minister tried to make sense of this turn of events. Dumbledore seemed all too pleased with himself, and Dolores didn’t like it one little bit. Percy was right, something was dreadfully wrong, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. Finally something inside of her snapped.
“Fine,” Umbridge growled. “If that’s the way you want to play it, I’ll just kill the Potters one by one while you watch, Dumbledore, and then I’ll finish you. Once you’re gone, it doesn’t matter if the real Potter is running around somewhere. I’ll find him and his little Mudblood sooner or later, and when I do, you won’t be around to protect them anymore.”
Minister Umbridge glowered at Dumbledore and raised her wand, aiming it at one of the Potters.

~o0o~
The squadron of brooms flew above the snow dusted treetops in the gathering dusk towards Hogsmeade. As they passed over the village, colourful jets and arcs of magic lit up the streets as the battle between Order members, and Inferi and Snatchers raged below.
Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory each split off with small groups of students following them to aid the Order in the streets while the Weasleys, Seamus, Padma, Susan, Hannah, and Neville circled above looking for Harry and the Unaffiliated.
“There... on the roof of the Three Broomsticks,” shouted Padma. “Dumbledore and Harry - they’re in trouble.”
“But I don’t see Hermione and the others,” Neville yelled back.
“Bloody Hell!” gasped Ron as the wind whipped at his hair and snowflakes stung his cheeks. “There’s half a dozen Harry’s. Which one’s the real Harry?”
“Never mind that...” said Fred.
“...We’ll just have to save the lot of them,” George concluded.
The Weasleys led the way as the squadron swooped down towards the rooftop. Seeing the Minister aim her wand at one of the Harrys, Seamus was the first to react, casting a bombarda spell. Several things happened all at once when the explosive spell went off like a small grenade, hitting the terrace.
It wasn’t big enough to cause too much damage, but the force of the impact shook the roof, smoke billowed, and the surprise was enough to cause the Minister to shriek and prevent her from getting off her killing spell. Percy flung himself in front of the Minister to protect her.
The Unspeakables, and Crabbe and Goyle all dove for cover, releasing their grip on Dumbledore and the six Potters. Dumbledore took advantage of the confusion to perform a bit of wandless magic, slipping out of the ropes which bound him.
Freed from his bonds, Dumbledore pulled from his sleeve his hidden wand, having used a spare during his fight with the Inferi. He quickly cast a releasing spell, freeing the Potters from their ropes. All six Potters seemed to have armed themselves with spare wands as well, having prepared with Dumbledore beforehand for the eventuality that they might need them.
Chaos erupted on the rooftop as the Minister, Percy, Crabbe, Goyle, and the Unspeakables all began to recover themselves and shoot spells at their attackers. Spell-fire flew everywhere as the Weasleys, Seamus, Hannah, Padma, Susan, and Neville zoomed about on their brooms casting their own Stunning spells.
Warlock Goyle aimed his wand at one of the redheads flying above them, determined to take down a Weasley.
“Avada Kedavra,” he yelled. A bolt of green lightning barely missed Fred.
“That’s my brother, you bastard,” shouted George, retaliating with an Expulsor.
Goyle went hurtling off the roof, crashing to the street below. Meanwhile, a Stunning spell from Susan knocked Crabbe out cold. Dumbledore and the Potters were dueling handily and making short work of most of the Unspeakables,
Neville wheeled his broom around, easily dodging a stray Killing Curse, thanking his lucky stars for all the extra training, flying with Viktor Krum. He fired a Stunning spell at the Minister, but Percy leapt in front of her again. The youngest Senior Undersecretary in history went out like a light, collapsing at the Minister’s feet, face first in the trampled, slushy snow.
Boiling with rage, Minister Umbridge realised that the rooftop was lost. She didn’t have Dumbledore or Potter, and nobody was left to protect her. Before anyone had a chance to stop her, she bolted inside the stairwell and slammed the door shut behind her. Dolores darted down the stairs and into the first room she saw, flinging green powder in the fireplace.
“The Ministry, Department of Mysteries, Operations Division,” she barked before jumping into the green flames and vanishing.
Percy came to, just in time to see one of the Unspeakables who was still fighting aim a spell at one of the two brooms zipping past them. The spell nicked one of the brooms and the tail burst into flames.
“NOOOO! ... Seamus!” bellowed the red-headed figure who was still aloft.
Percy blinked uncertainly as he watched Seamus Finnegan’s broomstick spiral down into the street. Percy caught Ron’s terrified and angry features when he spun his broom around.
“Got ‘im,” the Unspeakable snarled. “Now for the other one,” he barked, taking aim at Ron.
Percy didn’t know what possessed him. In slow motion, he watched his own fist crash into the side of the Unspeakable’s face. The Unspeakable looked shocked for a moment, then crumpled as he passed out.
Percy and Ron stared at each other, both surprised at what had just happened.
His fist still shaking slightly, Percy glanced at the mayhem in the streets below, spying a number of fallen wizards, their blood staining the snow, a few of whom were being savaged by Inferi as some of the other Order members blasted the Inferi with spells which appeared to be weak versions of Dumbledore’s Secret Weapon, while others dueled with Snatchers and Unspeakables.
“What have I done?” Percy moaned as he looked on in horror. “... What have I done?”
Ron didn’t waste anymore time looking confused. He zoomed down to street level and tumbled off his broom, kneeling next to Seamus in the dirty slush. Finding a heartbeat, Ron breathed a sigh of relief and glanced back up at the rooftop, seeing Dumbledore sadly taking Percy into custody.

~o0o~
The Ministry seemed unnaturally quiet with most of the workers gone home for the evening. Harry’s heart raced, his nerves on edge and his senses heightened. Despite the ease of their passage thus far, invisible as the Coven was while traveling through the paintings and portraits, Harry knew he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.
“It seems so empty,” Daphne murmured after leaving Shacklebolt, Madam Bones, Dawlish and Arthur Weasley, and Sirius and Lupin and a few other ex-Aurors to secure the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. “I suppose everyone’s in Hogsmeade?”
“Maybe, but we should still be careful,” Harry quietly warned the Coven. “I didn’t have time to check the Chinese symbols painted on us and refresh them. So we might be a bit more vulnerable to physical attacks.”
“Of course Harry,” Hermione agreed.
“We’ll be cautious Harry,” Dora whispered back. “I’d be surprised if there weren’t at the very least a skeleton crew of Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries... and perhaps a bit of Security at the top level in the Atrium.”
“That’s what I expect too,” said Hermione. “But with any luck, dealing with whoever is left in the D.O.M. won’t be any worse than taking the Ministry compound in Wales...”
“Not to mention that we have Sirius and Remus here to back us up if we need them,” Harry added.
“We’re nearly there, aren’t we?” asked Luna. “Isn’t the Department of Mysteries on Level Nine?”
“Yes,” Parvati answered. “I remember from before - just a few more paintings and portraits. We can enter the D.O.M. through the portrait of Prometheus.”
Daphne swallowed nervously as she peered out of the landscape painting which the Coven was currently inhabiting. The corridor beyond the frame looked dark and forbidding. Silently and invisibly, the Coven passed from one painting to the next until finally they reached the portrait of Prometheus.
Prometheus seemed quite pleased to meet Harry and Hermione again when they undid their Disillusionment spells.
“... There are at least a dozen Unspeakables here tonight - perhaps a few more,” he told the Coven after introductions had been made with Fleur, Luna, Ginny, Daphne, and Jennifer. “But they have not been alerted yet to your presence.”
“So we’ve still got the element of surprise,” whispered Harry. “Excellent!”
One by one, the Coven slipped out of the portrait and made their way down a hallway, past a chamber with an enormous working model of the solar system. The next door they passed appeared to be locked, but when it opened of its own accord in a beckoning manner, Harry and Hermione both recalled their previous visit.
It took all of their willpower not to enter the Chamber of Love - the massive luminous shimmering Orb seemed to be calling out to them again. This time everyone felt it.
“Magnifique!” gasped Fleur, tears trickling down her cheeks.
“It’s beautiful,” said Jennifer as Daphne nodded and squeezed her hand.
“I think it’s making us glow again,” said Luna, peering at Ginny.
“Oh no,” Ginny squeaked. “That could be a problem, couldn’t it?”
That snapped Dora out of her trance.
“We’d better keep going - find the Unspeakables and take ‘em out before they discover us,” Dora muttered.
“Right... er... yeah!” Harry tore himself away. “Anyway, the Operations centre is this way,” he said, leading them on further down the corridor.
Hermione frowned, her sharp hearing catching what seemed to be extra footsteps echoing in the corridor; she grabbed Harry’s arm as two Unspeakables rounded the corner at the end of the passage, spotting the Coven.
“Harry!” she shouted. In the nick of time, Hermione yanked him out of the path of a spell which hit the wall with a burst of red sparks.
Harry swore under his breath. The element of surprise was lost. The Coven began shooting Stunning spells from their wands, but the two Unspeakables dodged and hid behind the corners, returning fire.
“Bloody Hell!” yelled one of the Unspeakables. “Potter? What’s ‘e doing here? ‘E’s supposed t’be in Hogsmeade!”
“It’s Potter and his Mudblood - and the rest of his little gang from Hogwarts,” the other barked into a device in his hand. “Corridor six...”
“Quick, in here!” Dora kicked open a door on the other side of the passage and the Coven darted inside, slamming the door and locking it behind them with a Colloportus spell. Banging and shouting could be heard coming from the other side as the door shook violently.
“Zat won’t hold them long,” said Fleur nervously.
“It won’t have to,” said Harry, his face lighting up when he saw which room it was. “This is perfect...”
“What’s this room?” asked Jennifer, peering around at the long rows and aisles of shelves holding what appeared to be thousands upon thousands of small glittering crystal orbs.
“The Hall of Prophecies,” Hermione replied. “We spotted it the last time we were here. The little globes all contain prophecies made by Seers over the centuries. According to Dumbledore, the prophecy about Harry and Voldemort is in here somewhere...”
“Anyway,” Harry interjected forcefully, getting back on the topic of most immediate concern, “we can hide in these aisles and start picking off the Unspeakables when they break down the door. Dora - you, Jennifer, Fleur and Daphne - you take that side. Hermione, Parvati, Luna, Ginny, and I will take this side. As soon as you see someone appearing, stun them and bind them with Incarcerous spells...
“Let’s try to do this cleanly... if we can,” Harry added, hoping that they could avoid bloodshed - more importantly, hoping he could maintain control of his own anger.
“Sounds like a plan Harry!” said Dora, nodding. “But don’t hold back if they start using Killing Curses, alright.”
“Right, of course!” Harry sighed.
Quickly, everyone took their positions, and not a moment too soon. The door burst open, flying off its hinges. Red bolts of magic flew and the first three Unspeakables through the doorway collapsed, out cold and bound in ropes. But the others were not so readily subdued.
Thick smoke poured from a wand poking through the doorway, obscuring the Coven’s view. Rapid footsteps informed the Coven that the other Unspeakables were entering the Hall of Prophecies under cover of the smoke.
The battle in the Hall of Prophecies was fierce, and Harry knew his hopes for a fairly blood free fight were shot. The Unspeakables were playing for keeps, firing off Killing Curses, blasting spells, and deadly looking hexes without hesitation. Shards of crystal flew everywhere as numerous globes containing prophecies were shattered in the explosions.
Harry grit his teeth as he and Hermione reluctantly resorted to Sectumsempra, each of them taking the wand hand of two unfortunate Unspeakables.
A Killing Curse only just missed Luna, demolishing a row of Prophecies. Parvati and Ginny both simultaneously responded with a Reductor spell and the offending Unspeakable’s screams echoed as he disintegrated, surrounded by ethereal, misty seers recounting prophecies which would never be heard again.
Another Unspeakable went up in flames when Fleur hit him with a Veela Fireball after he tried to kill Dora.
The fight was a running one; the Potters, Daphne, and Jennifer soon found themselves split off from the others in the Mind Chamber with a number of Unspeakables hot on their trail. They barely managed to dodge the Unspeakables’ spells jetting past them, as they looked for cover behind the enormous tanks in the chamber from which to return fire.
A vat containing brains exploded, drenching everyone, and the room filled with smoke and steam. The Potters heard screams but were cut off, unable to see through dense clouds as liquid and brain-matter spread across the floor.
“Jennifer, Daphne!” yelled Harry, his heart pounding as he charged into the mist back towards where he had last seen them, Hermione right behind him.
Green arcs of lightning penetrated the fog. Harry and Hermione slipped in the slimy goo trying to avoid the killing curses, and skidded through an open doorway at the other end of the room into a chamber which they hadn’t seen before.
Harry’s last sight was of an Unspeakable bursting through the billowing clouds behind them and firing a blasting spell. Harry felt the full force of the spell strike him and Hermione squarely, and for a brief terrifying moment as he blacked out, he thought they were both dead.
Harry’s head was throbbing and spinning when he came to, his mouth full of blood from a split lip, and his ears were ringing.
“Hermione,” he croaked, wondering in a panic where she was.
He blinked, squinting into the shadows of the dark chamber, and realised he was at the bottom of a sunken pit sprawled on a stone floor, surrounded on all sides by a series of concrete steps. Several Unspeakables stood silhouetted in the hazy glow emanating through a doorway above, which he presumed was the entrance to the brain room through which he and Hermione had just been blasted, their wands trained upon him.
“Aaaargh!” Harry groaned; a sharp searing pain shot through his leg as he tried to move into a better position to look for Hermione. It was clearly broken.
His face paled when he heard an all too recognisable high pitched chuckle. Harry turned his head and saw a toad-like figure dressed in pink holding a still unconscious Hermione, both of them on top of a craggy dais near an ancient stone archway - which almost looked antediluvian, a remnant of a forgotten age like Stonehenge - within which hung a fluttering wispy veil.
There was something ominous and foreboding about the stone arch and the hairs rose on the back of Harry’s neck, a shiver running up his spine. Instinctively, he knew that if Hermione passed through that veil, he’d never see her again.
“Well, well... Potter!” hissed the Minister. “The REAL one I presume. Too bad for you - your little coup attempt ends right here, right now... after you’ve said goodbye to your filthy little Mudblood.”
“NO!” gasped Harry, frantically spitting out blood. “You can’t...”
“Oh yes, Mr Potter! I can,” chortled the Minister. “Imagine my surprise to find you and your little entourage here causing mayhem when I arrived just moments ago. But I couldn’t be happier at this turn of events. There I was, thinking that all was lost - that it would be back to the drawing board - but now here I am, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.
“With you in my hands, Dumbledore will have no choice but to turn himself in... Don’t dare hope that your little friends might save you, they are still quite busy - being rounded up as we speak - I can assure you. You are quite alone at the moment...”
The Minister pointed at the two Unspeakables looming above Harry and continued. “...Alone and outnumbered, not to mention, unarmed.”
Harry groaned, sending another stab of pain coursing through his head. The Minister was correct; his wand was lying on the floor several metres away from him. He supposed that it was unlikely that he could accio it and take three Unspeakables and the Minister in time to save Hermione from whatever awful fate the Minister had planned for her.
Dark thoughts of Doom flashed before Harry’s eyes. Was this really how it was all going to end? But even if it was, Harry wasn’t about to give Minister Umbridge the satisfaction of groveling at her feet, begging for his and Hermione’s life.
“You don’t know Dumbledore very well, then,” Harry managed to snarl through wracks of pain, “if you think he’d ever give up the fight just for one person. It was never all about me - Voldemort found that out the hard way - and eventually you will too! ... As long as the Ministry stands for bigotry and prejudice and murder, people will keep fighting you until you’re finished. So you might as well just kill us both now.”
“Oh, no Mr Potter,” said the Minister in her most saccharine tones, a broad grin playing across her face. “I don’t think so. Unlike that fool Voldemort, I have no plan to martyr you, to turn you into a mythic hero, forever enshrined as an icon for Mudbloods to rally around, challenging the Authority of the Ministry. ... I am going to parade you, broken and defeated - show the public that you are no hero - no saviour - just a pathetic, naughty little boy who deserves to be punished.
“You thought you could thumb your nose at ancient wizarding blood and traditions Mr Potter - you thought that you could wipe your behind on the values of those of superior breeding. But you were wrong, and now you will pay! ... I still have use for you - and I think you sell yourself short as a bargaining chip with Dumbledore. There is no doubt in my mind that Dumbledore cherishes you above all else.
“But your precious little Mudblood on the other hand, she is less than nothing, as I am about to demonstrate. Your punishment begins now Mr Potter, with the end of her miserable life...”
Just as Harry was about to give up all hope, a loud boom rocked the chamber, smoke billowing through the entrance above. The startled Unspeakables swiveled, re-aiming their wands at the doorway and yelling, “Avada Kedavra!”
Harry took advantage of the Minister’s momentary distraction and summoned his wand. It skittered across the stone floor and he caught it deftly in his hand as one of the Unspeakables burst into flame - apparently a victim of one of Fleur’s Veela Fireballs - and the other two keeled over, screaming as their legs were quite literally swept out from under them, most likely by Sectumsempra spells.
“NOOOO!” screamed the Minister as her last hope of success floundered before her eyes. Her face purple with rage, Minister Umbridge dropped Hermione and aimed her wand at the witches emerging from the smoke-filled doorway. “FILTHY MUGGLE-LOVERS! ABOMINATIONS! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA!”
Jennifer and Daphne both ducked and rolled out of the path of the Minister’s Killing Curses. Harry took aim and slashed his wand. The Minister howled as her wand hand separated from her wrist in a crimson spray of blood.
Shrieking madly in pain, her eyes boggling in shock, Minister Dolores Umbridge staggered backwards and tripped over Hermione’s outstretched foot. Time seemed to move in slow motion as Dolores Umbridge tumbled through the veil and vanished, the only trace of her left, a bloody hand lying on the dais near Hermione, and the fading echoes of her screams in the Chamber of Death.
Harry knew that Umbridge was gone - passed over to the Other Side. He swallowed, his eyes stinging when he realised just how close Hermione had come to dying. Relief flooded Harry when he saw Hermione stirring and heard her groan in pain.
“Harry,” she called out weakly. “Did... did you get her?”
Ignoring his own agony, and yells from Daphne, Jennifer, and Fleur to stay still, Harry dragged himself across the floor and hauled himself onto the stone dais, clutching Hermione to his chest, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Bloody hell, Harry!” moaned Dora. “Your leg...”
Breathing heavily from pain and exertion, Harry glanced up to see that the others had arrived. Luna, Parvati, Ginny, and Dora, had joined Daphne, Fleur, and Jennifer; they all looked more than a bit roughed up, with bruises, cuts and abrasions, and scorch marks. They were followed by Sirius, Lupin, and Arthur Weasley, and all of them crowded around the dais looking extremely worried.
“Hermione’s safe... she’s alive... that’s all that matters...” Harry managed to say between gasps.
“Not to me...” Hermione murmured, as she tried to smile, which was broken by a wince and another groan, “That’s why I stuck my foot out and tripped her, to give you a chance. Where is she? ... You got her, right? What happened to Minister Umbridge?”
“Umbridge - she’s gone,” said Harry, returning Hermione’s attempted smile with one of his own. “I guess it was both of us then. After I took her wand hand, when you tripped her, she fell through the veil and disappeared...”
“Wh...what?” Painfully, Hermione rolled onto her side and saw for herself Umbridge’s stubby little hand lying next to the stone archway.
“Oh,” she said, raising her eyebrows. Hermione shivered slightly, as if it was cold, when she saw the veil fluttering, despite the lack of breeze, and scooted back closer to Harry.
“Then it’s all over, you two,” said Dora, grinning. “It’s finished... we’ve dealt with the Unspeakables here. Sirius, Remus, and Arthur showed up to help us finish them off after securing the DMLE, and apparently Dumbledore and his lot are just mopping up in Hogsmeade...”
AN:
@ Pacito: Thank you! I quite enjoy your stories too. ... :-)
@ Chelsea L: Thanks! It's not quite over yet, but almost... ;-)
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Moments in Love