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Chapter 48: Heaven can wait

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As Voldemort stood challenging the crowd it was obvious that there would be no takers; even the trained Aurors in the crowd wanted no part of a fight with Voldemort now. They started motioning for the group to fall back as they attempted to cover the retreat with their wands; wands that, in some cases, were quivering in fear. As could have been expected, the orderly retreat quickly broke down into a panicked flight for the safety of someplace else.

Alicia Spinnet and Joan Brennan rushed back to the Golden Unicorn to order everybody to escape while they could. They knew Voldemort would come here next; they needed a place to reform at where the Death Eaters couldn’t find them. Joan knew of just such a place that would serve the need.

“Penelope, take the others to your Cousin Richard’s place, he has Jeanne with him now,” said Joan quietly. “Alicia and I will report back to the Ministry. Tell Richard that if it falls I’ll gather what I can there and join you at Masham.”

Out in the street, Voldemort laughed out loud as he watched the mad scamper of his enemies to escape him. He thrust the sword at some of the nearby buildings and silently muttered the Reducto curse. Walls that would have had holes blown in them before were blasted into heaps of rubble, spraying the fleeing witches and wizards with stone chips and dust. This only increased the level of chaos.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Fleur shouted to the others.

“But, Harry…,” screamed Ginny.

“Is dead! We can’t save him, we can save ourselves, so move it,” Fleur screamed as she began to shove Luna and Gabrielle towards the retreating crowd. So far, Voldemort was just blasting property, he didn’t seem interested in a big body count. If the coven could mix in with the others and the dust clouds from the debris then they might escape his attention long enough to escape into the void.

Hermione grabbed the disguised Ginny and dragged her after Fleur, who was pushing the others. They saw Lupin ahead of them with George, Fred, Pomfrey, Balzhoff, and Neville. They were signaling them to come towards their position. As they neared the corner into a side street, the wall erupted in a flash of stone and mortar. Gabrielle was thrown hard to the ground and stunned. In horror, she saw the upper wall start to collapse on top of her; she would be crushed beneath it. A set of strong hands grabbed her small body like it were a doll and she was thrown over a shoulder. As she was carried away the last thing she saw before she fainted was the wall falling with a loud crash on the spot where a second before she had lain helpless.

Running around a corner into a side street, Fleur opened the void and everybody rushed in. Keeping at a run in the void, Fleur opened an exit inside the basement of the Golden Unicorn. The elves had gathered there, they already knew that their good Master was dead. Desiree had joined with them, but didn’t know what to do. For a few moments they simply stood there breathing deeply, trying to mentally grasp that Harry was dead and that they were all now marked for death.

“Listen to me!” shouted Fleur and all sound ceased. “Harry Potter is dead; the Dark Lord killed him and has taken the sword. The Master’s son, his heir and your new Master, grows within me. The Dark Lord will seek out my death now, and that of the others who carry the Master’s living seed inside them as well. He will come here soon for that purpose, and to take you into slavery as well. I ask you to obey me and protect the new Master within me. Will you do this?”

With only a moment of hesitation, the elves shouted out resoundingly that they would protect the new Master and his mother. Fleur knew that they would have little chance in a pitched battle now with Voldemort and his remaining Death Eaters, and she must keep the elves from his control. She had to think, what would daddy have done? Live to fight another day: came the answer. Maybe that backup Heir of Merlin plan of daddy’s was going to pay off after all. She would get everyone and all the supplies they could carry into the void, and then find a place outside to hide. Hopefully, Voldemort was still ignorant of the void and how to enter it.

Looking around her, Fleur saw that the others were still in shock; Ginny was on the verge of hysteria. Gabrielle was gently laid on the floor by a dust covered George. It had been he who had pulled her from the brink of death at the risk of his own life. He knelt there shaking as the fear infused adrenaline still pumped through his body. Everyone else was scrambling madly. Then the building shook as a blast of energy struck the first floor entry to the Golden Unicorn, shattering the front doors and disintegrating the protective spells which kept out intruders. The sounds of the screams from those still taking shelter upstairs could be plainly heard in the basement. Apparently, the new management team was arriving to take over operations. Whether those still upstairs seeking shelter would be spared or killed, Fleur didn’t know, but she knew that there was nothing they could do to save them.

As quickly as she could, Fleur opened the void again and started getting everyone into it. The coven members could hear the screams and crashing around upstairs as the Death Eaters ransacked the first floor, but the entryways to the basement were craftily concealed and hard to find. By the time the Death Eaters found there way to the basement there was nothing there, the staff, the elves, everything and everybody had disappeared into thin air. Lord Voldemort gestured to Bellatrix to continue the search and look for any secret passages.

“Run and hide in fear, my pretties, we will find you out,” Voldemort shouted into the emptiness of the basement, “but we have other business to attend to first.”

“What are your orders, my Lord?” asked Snape. “We have captured a large number of prisoners upstairs, and the Ministry forces are retreating in disarray with the remaining civilians. Shall we slaughter them?”

“No!” said Voldemort. “Potter is dead, and we have the sword of power. We can afford to be generous now. Moreover, the survivors will spread the news of our victory all the faster. Release them, all of them, allow medical help to service the wounded, and do not impede the Ministry’s retreat. See to it that no more damage is done to property, and allow those who wish to stay to do so without bother.”

“Do you want us to track after the coven members and destroy them for good, my Lord?” asked Alecto.

“Potter’s whores are not the primary threat to us. The seed growing in their fat bellies may one day be a threat, but that threat is not immediate. No, other objectives are more imperative now. We do desire them dead, but they can wait. Our business now is with the Ministry, and the Minister.”

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“Well at least they were right about one thing,” thought Harry, “it doesn’t hurt to be dead.”

Harry was grateful that the intense pain in his chest was gone now, but it worried him a bit that there was actually no real feeling at all. Opening his eyes, Harry saw that he was definitely not in Godric’s Hollow anymore. He was in a place that was almost like the void, only instead of total blackness he was in a cloudy filtered white light. He was also totally naked. His absence of clothes didn’t bother him much; he didn’t feel either hot or cold.

He saw a brighter light off to the side and there was sort of an instinctive voice in his head that told him he was supposed to walk towards the light. He ambled on sensing there was no need to hurry here. His mind filled with wonder of what awaited him, and with worry of what would happen now to those left behind. He had so wanted to see his children born, to hold them in his hands. Now he wouldn’t, in fact, it was probable that Voldemort would kill all his coven and his children to wipe out the line.

In front of him, through the mist, Harry heard voices calling his name, voices that sounded familiar. “I’m over here,” he responded.

Moments later, he saw a figure coming towards him that looked very familiar. Harry knew that walk and the messy mop of red hair on top; it was Ron Weasley coming towards him.

“Hello Ron,” said Harry as he walked forward smiling, his hand extended to shake hands with his old best mate. “How are you doing there, mate?”

“Just fine, mate, now that I’ve finally found you,” Ron said as he stopped in front of Harry. “Have you got your wand with you?”

“My wand? Erm … no,” replied Harry a bit confused

“Good,” said Ron, and then he crouched and swung his right fist up in an arc that smashed it hard into Harry’s naked scrotum. Harry was lifted into the air and immediately collapsed into a screaming heap on the ground, his knees instinctively drawn up tight into his chest, his body writhing in pain. Apparently, the dead could still feel pain; you just couldn’t take it with you from the other side.

“OHHHH, FUCK!” screamed Harry. “WHATDYA DO THAT FOR? OH, FUCK ME!”

“I WAS SEVENTEEN FUCKING YEARS OLD, YOU SACK OF SHIT!” screamed Ron with tears running down his face. “I GAVE MY LIFE TO SAVE A GIRL I LOVED, AND I THOUGHT LOVED ME. NOW I KNOW THE WHORE WAS FUCKING YOU ALL ALONG BEHIND MY BACK.”

As he lay there with waves of pain and nausea running through him Harry realized that Moody must have been running his big mouth over here about Harry’s conquests and exploits. He’d have to remember to thank him for that sometime, maybe by ripping out the other damned eye.

“I promise … ugh … it wasn’t … ugh … like that, Ron,” said Harry, grimacing through the waves of pain that coursed through his abdomen. “Hermione had left me … she really wanted … you back. Ohhh … shit! She said … ugh … she gave you some that last night.”

“Oh, yeah, poor little Ronsie finally got laid for two minutes an hour before he died. You know when I got here I waited to see if I had really done it right, when Hermione and the other Gryffindor’s didn’t show up and the Death Eaters did, I was so bleedin happy. I’d save her, I laid down my life, now I find you was back ending her, and she’s having a baby for you.”

“Ron … please believe me —”

“AND YOU’RE FUCKING MY SISTER TOO!” screamed Ron as he aimed a kick at Harry’s head, only to be pulled back by two sets of hands at the last moment. Harry looked up and blinked a bit as he saw Sirius Black and Bill Weasley step up to either side of Ron holding his arms.

“Looks like Ron’s a bit distraught with you at the moment,” said Sirius with a wide shit eating grin as he helped Harry gingerly to his feet.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Harry replied tersely through the pain still gripping at his testicles. Harry stood there hunched over, breathing deeply for a minute or so beside Sirius, trying not to vomit, while Ron glared malevolently at him. Finally, the pain began to subside a bit to a barely manageable level. “Hello Bill, I suppose you want to bust me one in the nuts because of Fleur?”

“No,” replied Bill coldly. “You weren’t sleeping with her until I’d already bought the farm. I can’t fault her for spreading her legs with me gone; even though it appears it didn’t take her long to get over me. But I still think you’re a real shit for fucking my brother’s girlfriend.”

“Wait a damn minute, both of you,” said Harry, finally getting enough nerve to be angry over his reception. “Hermione told me you two had split up to reconsider your arrangement, so she wasn’t your fucking girlfriend at the time, mate; plus you were trying to get into the Golden Unicorn to shag one of my elves even when you two WERE still dating.”

“Yeah, and now I know why I could never get in, don’t I?” Ron growled and made a break to grab Harry, but Sirius and Bill held him in check. “But what good is all that to you now? You know what, now you’re dead too, Harry Potter, just as dead as poor stupid Ron Weasley — and I’m glad of it. I wish I’d never met you, Harry Potter, or Hermione.”

“Come on, Ron, fuck him, so much for the late great chosen one, let’s get out of here,” said Bill as he led Ron away back into the mist towards the light. Sirius just watched them go.

“Sirius, I promise you, Hermione, Ginny, and Fleur came to me willingly. I never did anything I wasn’t invited to do,” said Harry.

“I know that, Harry. Do you have any idea how many women your dad, Remus, and I shagged when we were your age?” asked Sirius. “A lot … and every one of them dropped their knickers quite willingly, hell there were times we actually turned down perfectly good pussy if it didn’t meet our high standards. You’ve done nothing wrong. Ron’s just being a sore loser — emphasis on the loser part — he’ll calm down eventually. Everything that happened in the old world goes by the wayside here eventually, especially the bad stuff. A hundred years from now you two will be in the pub getting shit-faced, and look back and laugh about all this.”

Turning around towards the light, Sirius waved his hands and called out to others approaching them. Out from the mist walked two more figures, Nymphadora Tonks and a completely restored Alastor Moody.

“Wortcha, Harry,” Tonks happily called out as she ran her practiced eyes over Harry’s taut frame, especially lingering on his groin, her tongue licking her lips. “Looking good there, mate, mighty good. In fact I hear I created a monster, and what a monster it is now that I see it for myself.”

“Harry, did Voldemort kill you himself?” Moody asked anxiously.

“I’m afraid so,” answered Harry. “I’m sorry I failed, I don’t know how he was able to get the better of me. I thought I would be more powerful when I met him.”

“I think I know the answer to that, Harry,” came a voice from behind him, a voice he well knew, Albus Dumbledore. However, as he turned to face his old teacher he got a big surprise, the man in front of him looked nothing like he expected. He still had the piercing bright blue eyes, but gone were foppish looking clothes; and in their place a pair of black denim jeans, black boots, and a stylish men’s shirt with a herringbone jacket. He looked like he had stepped out of Vogue. The long scruffy gray beard and hair were now neatly trimmed and were light red with a nice touch of gray at the edges.

“Professor?” said Harry in amazement. “Is that really you?”

“Yes, it’s the real me, Harry,” said Albus Dumbledore with a laugh. “Or would prefer me to put on the dodgy old queer get up again?”

“No, Sir, this is fine,” said Harry admiringly, this was a totally different Albus Dumbledore, this was the kind of man he would be proud to name a son of his after. Now Harry understood the look in Fleur’s eyes when she talked about her daddy. There was a motion in the mist and Professor Dumbledore was joined by a voluptuous woman who snuggled right up to him.

“Hello, Harry, how are you doing, dear boy?” Harry immediately recognized the voice.

“Professor Sprout, is that really you?” he asked with a gasp.

“Yes it is, how do you like me now that Albus has been helping me with my new workout program. I’ve kept all the right curves and lost the bad ones he says.”

“Yes, Ma’am, you have, you look fantastic.”

“Would you still hop in my bed for a bit of knocking?” she asked with a mischievous little grin on her face.

“I certainly would, Ma’am, if the offer was made,” replied Harry grinning.

“Well don’t get too hopeful, she’s taken,” said Dumbledore as he pulled Professor Sprout to him. “We’ve been going steady since she arrived here.”

“I’m happy for both of you, and wish you the best,” said Harry.

“Thank you, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “Baby, if you don’t mind, I have to talk business with Harry. Could you head back now and let me catch up later?” Pomona Sprout just smiled and gave him a nod. They kissed and she headed back towards the light as Dumbledore gave her a little slap on her ample behind, eliciting a playful giggle.

“I’m sorry I let everyone down,” said Harry. “I did the best I could, it just wasn’t enough. Voldemort knows about Fleur and the baby. He’ll kill them.”

Dumbledore calmed Harry and had him explain to him in detail what had happened at Harry’s death. Then Dumbledore stood a moment in deep thought.

“The mistake was probably mine, Harry, but this may not be over just yet,” said Dumbledore staring deep into Harry’s eyes. “I had hoped several years ago when you told me about Voldemort using your blood to reconstitute his body that it would provide you with protection against a magical attack from him. Voldemort figured it would increase his power over you. Apparently I was wrong and he was right this time.”

“You were wrong?” asked Harry with a grin of skeptical disbelief. “The great Albus Dumbledore was wrong?”

“Shit happens, Harry, even to the best of us,” said Dumbledore returning the grin. “There is a reason why we refer to magic as an art, and not a science. It doesn’t always work the way we think it will. In your specific case, just as part of his soul inside you gave you his ability to speak to snakes, your blood in his veins apparently gave him some of your ability to become a warlock. However, blood is weaker than an actual Horcrux; you carried his power with you all the time, blood only gave him power when he was close to you. He set you up so he could get close to you when you tried to kill him.”

“But where did he get the power from? He had no coven or foci, I had that.”

“Harry, how many times have I told you that you and Voldemort are linked, magic has a difficult time telling the two of you apart? Your ability to channel energy from your witches is just highly advanced magic. When you two closed on each other and the energy flowed from your coven, Voldemort was the more powerful wizard who registered as you, so most of their energy flowed to him, not you. You kicked your own arse by letting him get too close to you. If you had cursed him at a distance, you probably would have won.”

“And now I’m dead and Voldemort is running amok with my coven and Excalibur, I doomed them all.”

“I’ve already told you, Harry, that it may not be so, there is still a chance, follow me please,” Dumbledore said as he led the way towards the light. “We are in the anteroom of the next world, Harry, the middle ground. Sort of like what the muggle shaman’s called purgatory. The dead can sometimes speak to the living in dreams from here if there is a powerful enough bond. I think you’ll recall that Sirius and Tonks managed to cross over to you with Desiree’s help one night from in here.”

“Yes they did,” Harry said with a smile to them. “It helped me a lot.”

“Happy to do it, Harry, and we meant every word,” said Sirius as Tonks nodded.

“But if you were here, why did I see you in that field not in all this mist.”

“Because you were dreaming, it’s how the mind deals with the other side. You saw what you needed to see.”

“By the way, is it true that Remus has taken up with Poppy Pomfrey?” asked Tonks.

“Yes, they seem quite happy, but he missed you dearly after … well …you know.” They walked a bit till they reached a clearing in the mists; there a hard ring of white light formed a barrier to further entry.

“This is the entrance to the sorting area, Harry, all who die are sorted here and sent to their respective worlds beyond where they belong. Kind of like the old sorting ceremony at Hogwarts.”

“Who does the part of the Sorting Hat?” asked Harry.

“You find that part out inside the light,” said Dumbledore with a grin. “Go on in.”

Harry walked forward a bit cautiously, he reached the curtain of light and tried to push through, but he couldn’t. The beams of light were like a solid wall to him.

“What does this mean, Albus?” asked Sirius. “Why can’t Harry pass through like we did?”

“Only the truly dead can pass this curtain to enter the next world,” said Dumbledore. “So, if Harry can’t pass through….” Dumbledore then began to laugh out loud.

“I’m not dead,” said Harry softly. “But Voldemort hit me with the killing curse, and I’m here. How can I be here with all of you and not be dead?”

“The Horcrux inside you, Harry!” shouted Dumbledore gleefully. “The damned thing saved your arse, just like they did with Voldemort all those years ago, but in reverse. You had a part of Voldemort’s soul mixed in with your own, the curse tried to kill both of you at once, but since magic can’t tell the difference between the two of you in there, it couldn’t finish you off because the last part of Voldemort’s soul is still on Earth in his body.”

“Albus, sometimes you don’t make sense,” said a confused Sirius.

“Voldemort tried to kill Harry, but a part of Voldemort's soul was mixed in with Harry’s, the curse tried to kill them both as one. Harry’s fate was intertwined with Voldemort’s, and Voldemort couldn’t die because the main portion of his soul was still in his body. Since the curse couldn’t kill both, and it couldn’t distinguish between the two souls, it couldn’t kill either. It just ripped the soul out and deposited it here, just like it did Voldemort sixteen years ago.”

“Sort of like kill them all and let god sort them out?” asked Sirius.

“In a way, I guess you could call it that,” laughed Dumbledore.

“So, wait a minute,” said Harry. “The curse ripped my soul out of my body without actually killing me, and just dumped me here; and this is also where Voldemort went after he tried to kill me. So how did he get out of here?”

“There are ancient backdoors to this place that link it to other worlds; they seem to date back to the ancient Magi. The portal won’t allow the truly dead to return, but if you’re not truly, completely dead, it’s possible to pass through it and return. Voldemort spent years trying to find the exit back to Earth for himself, and he succeeded.”

“So I’m doomed to wander around this place until I find a doorway back to my world?” asked Harry.

“Yes, unless you have a guide who knows the place, and is willing to help guide you around.”

“And do I have such a guide, Sir?” asked Harry hopefully.

“Matter of fact you do, Harry, he existed here for a thousand years, you learn a lot about the place in that time, including where the doorways lead to.”

Since this was the place of dreams, Harry knew there was only one person who fitted that description, his ancestor Merlin knew the way out. However, there were still unanswered questions he had to know before he could use the portal.

“Professor, Sir, if Merlin is able to get me to this backdoor thing and I can pass through, will I have my body again?”

“Your old body is dead, Harry; it’s decomposing back on Earth as we speak. If I am right and you can return the same as Voldemort did, then you’ll return in the same form, which means no form, just a spirit.”

“Like a ghost?”

“Less than a ghost, Harry, more of a spiritual parasite. You’ll need a body, and soon.”

“So what am I to do to get one?”

“You already know the answers to that, Harry? You’ll have to follow in Voldemort’s footsteps, how did he regain a body of his own?”

“He reconstituted himself using black magic in the Riddle cemetery that night, using his father’s bone, Wormtail’s hand, and my blood,” said Harry thinking back to that horrible night three years earlier. “But there is no other way left to me? Can’t we make up another Philosopher’s Stone and get some Elixir of Life from it?”

“It took Nicholas a number of years to perfect the first one. It would take years to repeat the process, and that’s only if they could get the right ingredients to make the alkahest base, and the right talent on the other side to help refine it to proper purity. Your best bet is to do as Voldemort did. If I can contact Fleur in her dreams I can teach her the reconstitution spell, she and Hermione, and your coven should be able to do it, especially if she still has our family sword as a foci. But she hasn’t dreamed yet, I’m worried about her.”

“One last thing, Sir, if I can make it back, do I carry the Horcrux back with me?”

“No, Harry, the killing curse ripped it and your soul out of your body and flung you and the Horcrux in here. It’s running around somewhere with those pieces of him you freed from the remaining objects, they’ll want to go back too if they can. We are going to make sure they stay here. If we can get you back and put you in you a new body then you’ll be free of him. Both of you will be able to be killed outright, so kill him and once the rest of him is here, he passes the curtain and is sorted out. He won’t find it all that pleasant where he’ll be sorted to.”

“Bout time you two got here,” Harry heard Sirius mutter towards the light, and then he turned to Harry with a wide grin. “Somebody wants to see you, Harry.”

As the couple walked through the light into the antechamber Harry recognized them immediately, it was his parents. The three stood there for a few moments just staring at each other, their eyes swelling with tears.

“Mum,” cried Harry as he threw himself into her arms. Lily Potter hugged her baby close to her breast, while James put arms around both of them. Their little family was together again. After several minutes of tearful hugging Lily held her son away from her to look over the man he had become, at this point Harry remembered he was buck-naked.

“I hear you’re popular with the ladies, baby,” she said coyly as her gaze quickly breezed over Harry’s nether regions.

Harry saw James take a measured look at his manly equipment and then turn to Sirius with a wide smile. “That’s my boy!” he announced in a tone of fatherly pride.

“I’m sorry your life has been so hard, baby,” said Lilly sadly. “We never meant for you to suffer like that. Of course, if someone had listened to me and never trusted that Peter Pettigrew then this probably wouldn’t have happened.”

James Potter’s face reddened, “Please don’t start on that again, dear; I thought I could trust the little bastard. It wasn’t just me either.”

“He’s right, Lily,” said Dumbledore. “Sirius, Remus, and I thought Peter could be trusted. He was supposed to turn into a rat and stay hidden in that form so no one could find him. He fooled us all. Let’s not dwell on the past, there’re other things too important to deal with right now. I need to contact Fleur or Gabrielle in a dream. You three find a spot and catch up a bit. Harry, we’ll see if we can bring you something to wear.”

“What about us?” asked Sirius.

“Keep looking for the Horcrux that came in with Harry, it’ll look like a feral child the same as the others; they’ll all be vicious if we try to catch them. Someone go help Merlin guard the gateway in case they know where to go now, or just get lucky. You ought to remember the way, Sirius.”

“How could I forget it, I tried like everything to go back out again through it.”

“Why do you know the way out, Sirius?” asked Harry.

“Because it’s also the way I came in, Harry, the gateway back to Earth is that bloody big stone archway that Bellatrix blasted me through in the Ministry building that night. If all this planning works out right, then that’s where you’ll emerge back into the world.”

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

The Ministry was in a panic, it had been confirmed that Voldemort had killed Potter. Witnesses had seen Voldemort hack him to pieces in the streets of Godric’s Hollow, and take the ancient sword of power for his own. Scrimgeour practically cried as he received the initial reports that most of Godric’s Hollow was on fire or otherwise destroyed, and that the dead littered the streets. The surviving Ministry forces had fallen back in panic leaving the Death Eaters running amok through the town.

Shacklebolt, Hooch, and other key Ministry department heads were in his office, all looking to him for what to do next, and he hadn’t a clue. The buzz of whispers ceased as the building shook from the recoil of an explosion. The office lights flickered off several times then returned. Scrimgeour had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that Voldemort had arrived.

This was confirmed in less than a minute as a security wizard arrived at his office. “Minister, it’s You-know-who, he’s downstairs with some of the Death Eaters, he says for you and the others to come down and talk to him, or he’ll blast the building to rubble with all of us inside it. He says he has the sword of power, Excalibur, with him.”

If Voldemort was willing to talk then Scrimgeour knew he would have to meet with him, maybe he could negotiate a way out of this mess. “Tell him that we are coming down.”

When Scrimgeour arrived in the main lobby of the Ministry it was an odd sight that awaited him, Voldemort was dressed very conservatively in a suit and tie with formal robes. In his hand was the sword. His reddish eyes beamed at the assembled crowd of frightened witches and wizards who were there, a gleam of triumph filled his face with a look of amusement at the proceedings.

Standing around him, with their wands at the ready were his remaining core of Death Eaters; most of whom the Minister recognized immediately, Bellatrix LeStrange, Peter Pettigrew, the Carrows, Draco Malfoy. Mixed in with the Death Eaters were other faces he knew also who had been recalled into Voldemort’s service. There were also Crabbe and Goyle, Yaxley, Pansy Parkinson, Cornelius Fudge, Delores Umbridge, and Percy Weasley. Lying on the floor before the Death Eaters was the bloodstained beheaded corpse of a man, the severed head had been placed on the upturned backside of the corpse, and the genitals had been crudely cut off and stuffed into the mouth. There was no doubting the identity of the corpse, it was Harry Potter.

The source of the loud noise that had rocked the building was obvious, the new fountain of magical brotherhood, only a year old, lay in shattered rubble. “He did that with the sword,” whispered the security wizard. “He just pointed it at it and it disintegrated. I’ve never seen anything like it, Minister.”

“Thank you for attending, Minister,” said Voldemort in his most officially courteous voice. “And to the officers of your cabinet also.”

“What is it you wish of us?” asked Scrimgeour, getting to the point.

Voldemort was relishing his moment; nothing would detract from it now. “Minister, I and others of the magical community have a list of grievances we wish to pursue with you. We feel that your administration has allowed certain unsavory elements to flourish among us, that you and others of your administration have persecuted and demonized us unfairly because we disagreed with your policies. We have come here to demand a change of administration, in particular, the resignation of you and your department officers, and dismissal of the Wizengamot until a new and fair election can be held.”

“I suppose you want to be the new Minister then?” asked Scrimgeour.

“Not at all,” said Voldemort, “I hardly consider myself qualified for such lofty public service, the job requires a wizard with experience in good governance. I support the return of true and honest leadership to the Ministry, I desire that Cornelius Fudge be returned to office by acclimation as Interim Minister, until fair and safe elections representing all properly qualified Magi can be scheduled and held.”

“And if I refuse to stepdown, then what?” asked Scrimgeour.

“Then you will force me to pursue my grievances by other, less civilized, means,” he answered. With that, he pointed the sword at assembled crowd of bureaucrats cringing in fear before him; the blade began to glow softly. “Behold, Potter’s secret weapon, Excalibur, the ancient sword of his ancestor. Merlin’s great sword of power is now mine to wield, and I will use it if necessary. However, it is not my desire that any more innocents die, I leave it to you to decide. All further effusion of blood is on your hands, Minister.”

Scrimgeour looked to his officers. “Do we have the means to fight him?” All he saw were downcast faces, no one spoke.

Looking back to Voldemort, Scrimgeour asked, “You give your sworn word here that if I resign no one else will be harmed, or persecuted by you.”

“As I have already said once, Minister,” replied Voldemort, his voice now noticeably hardened, “no more INNOCENTS will die. There are still criminal elements at large in the country, these elements will be identified by the proper authorities and ruthlessly hunted down for the purposes of receiving a fair trial for their crimes, but if they choose to resist lawful arrest, then they shall be considered outlaws and dealt with accordingly.”

Scrimgeour watched as the blade of the sword glowed red-hot and seemed poised to slaughter the helpless crowd before. He was sentencing many to a painful death either way he decided, that he knew, but which was the lesser of two evils to choose.

“All right … you win,” said Scrimgeour. “I will resign in favor of Fudge. I recommend to my department officers that they follow suit.”

“A wise decision, Minister,” said Voldemort, his smile now nearly blinding, “a wise decision.” Slowly the power drained from the sword as he lowered it to the floor.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

THE DAILY PROPHET

SCRIMGEOUR RESIGNS AS MINISTER,

FUDGE RETURNS TO POST

Special Report to the Daily Prophet

By Correspondent Rita Skeeter

In a surprise move yesterday, Rufus Scrimgeour, and the principle officers of the cabinet, voluntarily resigned from their posts citing public anger at their inability to maintain public safety and the rule of law as the primary reasons for their step-down. In addition, the Wizengamot council was dismissed indefinitely for their own safety due to the ongoing security crisis. By public acclamation, former Minister Cornelius Fudge was returned to office to act as Interim Minister until the first opportunity to hold safe elections across the land. The position of Deputy Minister has been taken by Severus Snape.

Included in the resignation were Kingsley Shacklebolt and Rolanda Hooch whose ineffective leadership in the security departments was cited by many as the primary cause of the regime’s downfall. By order of the new Minister, their positions were filled with public servants of known quality. Madam Delores Umbridge was appointed to head the Inquisition with extended powers of investigation, while the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been turned over to Madam Bellatrix LeStrange.

Asked about Madam LeStrange’s past record, Minister Fudge commented: “It is true that in the past Madam LeStrange was accused of criminal actions, however, recent discoveries show that she was completely innocent of the charges. It now appears that the crimes were committed by unsavory elements, including Muggleborns and those friendly to them who purposefully left false evidence to implicate her. They wished her blamed for the atrocities because of jealousy over her pureblood status from the ancient family of Black, and to advance their radical mudblood political agenda.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

THE DAILY PROPHET

NEW DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT CHIEF

SPEAKS OUT TO URGE A RETURN TO LAW AND ORDER

Special Report to the Daily Prophet

By Correspondent Rita Skeeter

In her first public address, the new Department of Magical Law Enforcement Chief, Bellatrix LeStrange, announced that there would a return to law and order across the land. New Azkaban prison would be immediately reopened even as construction to make it fully functional is still underway. It was announced that the legitimate grievances of the Dementor guards with the Scrimgeour regime over their work hours and compensation had been amicably resolved and they were prepared to end their labor action and return to work immediately.

Chief LeStrange identified the most dangerous threat to the peace and security of the country as the shattered remnants of the notorious criminal organization commonly known as the “Potter Gang.” The full roster of gang members was still in the process of being compiled, but was lengthy. The Chief Auror noted that in the past, citizenry who supported lawless elements were able to act with impunity due to ineffective Ministry leadership, the tables have now turned. Chief LeStrange noted that numerous reports indicate that muggleborn magi appear to be behind the recent wave of disorder and violence. The Chief Auror has promised that those who support lawless elements, especially the Potter gang, will find themselves sharing a cell in New Azkaban Prison next to them for it, or worse.

It was further announced that in the name of public security that all Magi who are classified as ‘Muggleborn’ by the Ministry are forthwith required to register themselves in person with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They shall also be required to surrender all wands in their possession for inspection and apply for a license to carry them thereafter. Once the wands have been inspected for illegal usage the wands will be returned to their licenseholder. No muggleborn shall be allowed to possess more than one wand.

Any muggleborn who shall fail to register themselves, or shall be found in possession of an unlicensed wand will be subject to imprisonment. Those who resist will be considered outlaws and subject to the ultimate penalty.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

THE DAILY PROPHET

ARRESTS OF FORMER MINISTRY OFFICERS SHOCK POPULATION

Special Report to the Daily Prophet

By Correspondent Rita Skeeter

Amid numerous accusations of abuse of power and incompetence, new allegations have arisen of fraud and embezzlement against the former Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, and senior Ministry officials including former Law Enforcement Chief Kingsley Shacklebolt, and former head of the Inquisition, the late Erinyes Bartleby.

In a statement released by current Inquisition Head, Delores Umbridge, it was revealed that numerous violations of the law were carried out by these senior officers while acting in dereliction of their sworn duties to preserve the peace. While rumors of such acts abounded in the last days of Scrimgeour’s administration, it was not until he had stepped down and open access to Ministry records was permitted that the evidence of their illegal dealings came to light.

In response to these new findings Scrimgeour and Shacklebolt have been placed under arrest pending a fair and impartial hearing once order has been restored to the countryside. Inquiries into complicity by the former interim Chief Inquisitor, Rolanda Hooch, who was appointed after the death of Erinyes Bartleby, have been complicated by her disappearance following her resignation.

Minister Fudge has asked that anyone knowing the whereabouts of Madam Hooch to please inform the Ministry so that a statement of particulars may be taken to clarify her involvement, if any, in the case.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

THE DAILY PROPHET

SEARCH CONTINUES FOR REMAINING ELEMENTS

OF THE POTTER GANG STILL AT LARGE

Special Report to the Daily Prophet

By Correspondent Rita Skeeter

Ministry officials confirmed that the countryside was being scoured for the surviving members of the Potter gang who were dispersed after their leader, the Dark Warlock Harry Potter, was killed in a battle with the outraged citizens of Godric’s Hollow. The search is being given the highest priority of law enforcement despite being handicapped by the mass resignation of many experienced Aurors and Inquisitors who refuse to serve under the current administration.

Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has commented that it is a reflection of the sad state of affairs that these organizations had sunken to when partisan politics and personal gain meant more to senior officers and law enforcers than service to the public.

Among the fugitives from Justice being sought are: Desiree, Fleur, & Gabrielle Delacour; Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley; Luna Lovegood; Poppy Pomfrey; Neville Longbottom; and Euripita Balzhoff. In addition are two fugitives considered extremely dangerous: Remus Lupin, a known werewolf, and Hermione Granger, a known mudblood. Also being sought in connection with the investigation is Rolanda Hooch, former Chief Inquisitor, and now suspected spy and collaborator with the gang.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has issued warrants declaring the fugitives as outlaws and may be captured, or killed, on sight by public minded citizens. As further incentive beyond public duty, a reward of one thousand gold Galleons has been offered for each of these fugitives.

The Ministry is aware that certain elements of the population may feel a misplaced affinity towards the Potter gang, and strongly discourages any action to support them, or hinder the Ministry’s pursuit of them. The Ministry wishes to make it clear that those who engage in either action will be treated as criminals themselves and subject to punishment to the full extent of the law.

The Ministry of Magic then announced that warrants had been issued for a series of searches on private households would be made for the lawful purposes of searching for fugitives and seizure of supplies or other materials intended to aid their escape. Citizens were urged to assist fully in the process. Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, gave his full assurances that the innocent have no reason to fear these searches if they cooperated with authorities.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Voldemort choose an office close to Fudge’s official Minister of Magic chambers. From here he could carry out his ‘Chief of Staff’ advisory role to the Minister. He placed Deputy Minister Snape in the Minister’s outer office to keep a close eye on Fudge. The Minister was under strict orders not to do a damned thing without Voldemort’s express permission. The newer Death Eaters recruits who had been excluded from the Godric’s Hollow attack by design, for fear one of them was a spy as Snape suspicioned, were now placed in positions of authority. Everyone feared him now, even the stupid mudbloods were obediently turning in their wands and being registered. He’d give it a few months to get things settled, and then he’d tighten the screws. Ship the whole lot of the mudbloods off to Azkaban, and deal with them once and for all there. Then it would be the turn of the muggle arselickers and other blood traitors to get their due. There would be no mercy shown.

With power came a wave of new followers. Purebloods who had so far shunned his service now came crawling to serve him, and the new Ministry. He would need them. The new pureblood order was arising; his enemies would feel his wrath. Those of the proper lineage who submitted would be allowed to prove their loyalty, those who continued to resist would be destroyed.

Still, even the Dark Lord has his personal needs. The blonde girl had reminded him of pleasures he had long forgone in the pursuit of other goals. Those goals were at hand now, still Voldemort was uneasy. He had struggled too long to just relax now. His enemies were still out there, and there was the nagging fear that there was something he had missed. He had dreams of a faceless enemy in the dark, which was haunting him, waiting for him to relax his hold. It was an enemy he thought vanquished, maybe Potter returning? It vexed him, he needed to sleep, he needed to relax. He needed release.

“Severus,” he called to his lieutenant, “where is the Parkinson girl? We have need of her again tonight.”

“She is with those you sent to Godric’s Hollow to supervise the clean up of the bodies.”

“Damn it, … have her recalled then.”

“Yes, my Lord,” answered Snape. As he turned to leave the office, he was met by Millicent Bulstrode, who had now been appointed to the Inquisition. She had been made an Inquisitor by Snape and served as a guard in the underground cellblocks.

“Here are the reports on the prisoners you wanted, Sir,” she said. Snape curtly motioned her to lay them on his desk. Voldemort looked the girl over, dwelling for a moment on the ample swell of her breasts. She wasn’t as attractive as the Parkinson girl, particularly in the face, but she would do for the moment to sate his lust.

“Severus, ignore my last order,” he said. “You girl, we have a special task for you, come with us.”

Nervously, Millicent followed the Dark Lord to his office, and waited while he shut the door behind them. It was her first time to be so close to him. She watched as Voldemort transfigured the office couch into a bed, and began to disrobe himself.

“Remove your clothing, girl,” he said, “we desire you to pleasure us.”

Millicent simply stood there dumbfounded. Everyone thought Millicent was practically a whore, but she was actually still a virgin. She had no idea how to blow a man, especially this man.

“Get with it, girl, we don’t have all night to wait on you,” said Voldemort as he lay on the bed and reclined on the pillows. “We want you to pleasure us till we release in your mouth.”

Millicent quickly disrobed and knelt before Voldemort. She tried her best at giving him head, but gagged continuously. Voldemort became frightened that the silly bitch was going to bite his cock. In a fit of anger, he lept from the mattress and slapped her across the face so hard it threw her whole body to the floor, where she lay crying.

“Are you trying to injure us, girl,” said Voldemort as he placed the tip of his wand directly before her eyes. Millicent shook in terror as she stared at the instrument of her impending death with its carved wood, and the initials T.M.R. surrounded by a serpent inscribed in it.

“My Lord, I’m sorry to have displeased you,” she blubbered in fear. “I … I’m not experienced at this … I’m a … I’m a virgin. I don’t know how to do what you ask of me.”

“Then we will tell you what to do, girl,” shouted Voldemort. “Get here on the bed on your hands and knees. Apparently we must do everything around here.”

As Millicent knelt on the bed, Voldemort roughly pushed into position for him to enter her from behind. As he penetrated her, he began a quick and rough thrusting that soon brought him to orgasm for the first time in several months. After the last of his copious amount of seed was spent inside her Voldemort withdrew and began to dress himself again.

“Why are we surrounded by servants who are worthless for our needs?” lamented Voldemort. “Get out of here, girl, go back to your chores.”

Millicent hastily threw her robes on and ran from the Dark Lord’s office. Only when she was safely downstairs did she stop to properly arrange her clothes. Then she sat down in the darkness of the dungeons and cried.