Aftermath
Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face with both hands; it had been a very long day. He glanced up at the clock on his office wall and noted with surprise that it was not yet four in the afternoon. He had some difficulty accepting this; enough had happened in the past twelve hours to fill an entire week. He'd been rushed off his feet all day and had been plagued with a never ending line of people with requests for orders and advice. The worst of it was that the clean up and investigations had barely started.
His first priority had been to sweep the entire building to ensure no other traps had been set for the unwary. Thankfully, this had not taken too long and he was pleased when the various teams had reported back the all clear. Whilst they had been doing this, he'd been supervising the clean up operation and delegating instructions to his subordinates. He'd called in Gawain Robards but had been disappointed when the man had appointed Dawlish to lead this latest investigation. Robards had pointed out that there was a chance that the attack on Hermione's office was linked to the Malfoy case and so the same team should work on both. Whilst Kingsley had accepted the logic of this, he'd still been annoyed that Robards would trust someone as incompetent as Dawlish with such responsibility. He had made sure that Dawlish's first priority was to bring in Willie Widdershins though; sometimes he decided it was necessary to interfere.
He'd then called a meeting of all his departmental heads. This hadn't achieved very much but it had made him feel better to flex his ministerial muscles and exercise his power a little. After all, the Ministry had been subjected to a direct attack and he'd wanted to make sure that no stone was left unturned. Robards had attended and Mockridge had stood as proxy for Hermione. He'd also had the head of the Unspeakables called in and had surprised a few of the other heads by requesting that Arthur Weasley attend also. Whilst Arthur was not a senior official, Kingsley valued his advice and it was revealing to note that he was the only person who showed both concern for Harry and Hermione and who also expressed sorrow at the death of Claire. It struck Kingsley as a little odd that no one else seemed to consider the human tragedy of the attack.
His thoughts turned once again to the other attack of the day and he still felt the anger rise within him when he considered how close they had come to disaster. His initial inquiry into what went wrong had turned up one simple fact; Blaise Zabini had fucked up and in doing so had nearly cost the life of every Auror in that building. When he'd heard about the young fool knocking over a cabinet he'd wanted to smack him in the face there and then. In fact, the only reason he hadn't was because he'd had to prevent Mark Savage and Tom Proudfoot from doing the same thing. Both men had been livid and when Kingsley had head about the narrowness of the gap Blaise had tried to navigate, he too had lost his temper. He was also aware of the possibility that Blaise had acted deliberately in order to warn the targets and he remembered that Harry was convinced of a spy in the Auror ranks. It was for this reason that Blaise was currently under suspension - in fact, he was virtually under arrest.
Kingsley was also angry that all four Deatheaters had perished in the attack and knew that Harry was not particularly happy about this either. It was not that either of them had sympathy for the deceased; rather it was an annoyance that this particular lead was now at a dead end. Any useful information that could have been procured from the escapees was now gone for ever and Kingsley regretted this deeply. One thing was certain though; Harry had been correct - events were much bigger than just Draco Malfoy.
His thoughts turned to Harry and to his feelings of horror when the flames had finally engulfed the building. Until he'd received word about the attack on the Ministry and the sudden appearance of Harry, he'd thought the young man dead and his feelings of grief from earlier were still prominent in his mind. When he'd arrived at the Ministry and had been confronted by a sobbing, injured Harry Potter in the arms of Hermione Granger the relief he'd felt had been overwhelming. His joy that Harry and Hermione had finally woken up to each other was a welcome bonus. He'd always known that Hermione was the key to Harry's recovery and now that they had finally found one another he reckoned that he might soon get the old Harry back. He hoped so anyway.
He was drawn out of his musings as Susan Bones rapped gently on his door.
`Kingsley? Rita Skeeter is still requesting an interview. She says that the official statement from this morning isn't good enough. What shall I tell her?'
Kingsley felt the anger rise in him again. That damn woman had been on his case all day and he'd had to have her physically removed from the building. It had not prevented a special edition of the Prophet being rushed out and as he glanced at the lurid headline on the front page of the copy lying on his desk he wished that for once he could ignore his own conscience and use his Ministerial prerogative to have her tossed into Azkaban on the charge of being a pain in the arse. The article described both the attack at the Ministry and the botched raid and now his own capabilities were being questioned by the media. What shall I tell her? Tell her to fuck off and die.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. If only I could say that.
`Tell her that I will speak to her later. Tell her that enquiries are continuing and that I will speak to her as soon as I have anything concrete to relate. You might also want to tell her that there is no point in idle speculation, but I suspect that you will be wasting your breath.' He realised that he was speaking harshly and he caught himself. `I'm sorry, Susan; this isn't your fault. It's just been a long day. If you could pass that on to her, I'd be grateful.'
Susan smiled. `No problem, boss. And there is no need to apologise.' She smiled. `Just remember this next time I want a day off.'
Despite this mood, Kingsley smiled. `Thanks Susan,' he replied to her retreating back, wondering how he would manage without her. He made to pick up the latest reports from the Aurors when he was interrupted again by a rap on his door. What now?
`Yes?' he called and found his mood changing completely when Harry and Hermione entered. Both looked a bit grim but he could sense a change in them that he knew had everything to do with what he had witnessed earlier. He also noticed that they were holding hands and he was amused at the shyness they were displaying as they tentatively approached. He was more pleased for them both than he would ever admit and he was glad to see that Hermione's "ministrations" had done the trick. He decided to have a little fun at their expense.
`Harry! Hermione! Great to see you both,' he began, rising to his feet and offering his hand. `I must say, Harry; you are looking much better. Hermione must have looked after you well; maybe she could have a career as a nurse if she gets bored where she is?' To his delight he watched as the two of them flushed scarlet and he toyed whether to keep winding them up. `So,' he continued, `would you say Hermione has a particular talent in aiding a speedy recovery? Can I call on her if I ever need tender care? It might be worth getting myself injured just to find out how good she is.'
For a few moments Kingsley struggled to keep a straight face as Hermione blushed even redder and Harry looked at a loss for words. Finally the younger man smiled.
`Piss off, you dirty old man,' he finally replied and Kingsley laughed out loud at the response and after a few seconds Harry and Hermione laughed too. It seemed almost blasphemous to be laughing when so much had happened but he knew that sometimes that was all one could do in such circumstances. He also knew that that the old Harry was back; as little as a week ago he would never have spoken the way he just did.
Hermione must be really good, he thought in amusement.
`Sit down, both of you,' he said and waited for them to get comfortable. He noticed that both still looked serious. `What is it?' he asked, sensing immediately that something was wrong.
Harry never replied; instead he simply handed over the letter that had been delivered to Hermione's apartment and waited while Kingsley read it. He was glad that his friend had decided to wind him up - Kingsley was one of the few people that treated him as an ordinary person and he knew that there were not many others who would tease him about his love life - especially when the object of his affections was in the same room. Despite being the Minister, Kingsley was his friend and he knew that the events of the past week could not have been easy for him. He watched as the letter was finally placed on the desk.
`Bastards,' Kingsley whispered. He looked at Hermione and Harry could tell that he was sick at the thought of how close they had been to disaster.
`So they were specifically after you?' Kingsley asked Hermione. `They sent you this in order to lure you into your office? We thought Harry might have been the target but this asked you to come alone. Why are they after you?' he asked.
`To destroy me,' replied Harry and he could see Kingsley start at the words. He noticed too that Hermione looked curious but then he hadn't told her yet what Dolohov had said earlier. `During the raid,' he continued, `I was talking to Dolohov to keep him distracted. He told me that Hermione was in danger. He told me that she would be at the Ministry this morning - it's obvious he knew about the letter.' He paused, letting this sink in. `He also confirmed that Ron had been the target too; that it was him they were after.'
Kingsley frowned at this. `But that doesn't make sense. It could have been you who decided to go in first that day. In fact; both of you might have decided to go in together - or indeed to stay well back.'
Harry's face twisted into a grim smile. `Yeah; I said that to him. He told me that whilst they were after Ron they viewed getting me as a bonus. I also reckon that they knew enough about us to suspect that at least one of us would try to enter. We weren't exactly renowned for our patience.' He noticed Kingsley smile sadly at this observation.
`So why didn't they kill you when you passed out?' asked Hermione suddenly and Harry heard the horror in her voice. `They were watching, weren't they? They could have killed you then,' she added.
Harry turned to her and took her hand and this time his smile was genuine. Clever, clever witch. `I asked him that too. He confirmed that they were watching. He also said that it was decided to let me live; that it would be more enjoyable to destroy me without killing me. Murdering Ron nearly did destroy me and if they had got you today I would have been finished. That was the plan, you see. Kill everyone who matters to me and watch me fall apart. That's what Dolohov told me they had decided to do. I think when I buggered off I put a spanner in the works.'
He noticed that both Hermione and Kingsley looked appalled at this revelation.
`So this is all about you? Ron, Cho and Malfoy are really all about you?' asked Kingsley.
Harry shook his head. `I don't think it's that simple, Kingsley. I think Cho did uncover something and I think she did tell Ron. I'm not sure why Malfoy is involved yet. I think I was just a bonus. Dolohov did say that the decision to let me live was taken after Ron was killed.'
`Who decided?' asked Hermione quietly and Harry felt like he'd been slapped on the face. Glancing at Kingsley he could see that even he had not considered this.
`Who decided?' Hermione repeated. `This isn't something that the Deatheaters would have come up with; this is too…sophisticated for them. Someone made the call; someone decided to torture you, Harry. Someone powerful enough to convince four Deatheaters not to kill you and someone who thought that killing me would finally destroy you.' She left this last observation hang in the air for a minute.
`They would have destroyed me,' Harry finally replied and his voice was barely a whisper. He shuddered. `If they had succeeded this morning I wouldn't have been able to go on. You pulled me back after Ron died; how could I ever get over losing you?'
Kingsley watched the interaction between the two and knew the truth of Harry's words. His friend had come within a whisker of breaking down completely and he was well aware that if anything had happened to Hermione then Harry Potter would have been finished. Oh, he would be alive, but he would have been dead in every way that mattered. It would have been as if he had undergone the Dementor's kiss.
He also knew that Hermione had nailed something extremely important though. Who decided?
`This opens a number of possibilities,' he finally said and watched as the couple finally turned to face him. `Hermione is correct; the Deatheaters would have killed you if it were up to them, Harry. Someone else is calling the shots here.' He leaned forward and picked up the letter. `Any idea who sent this?' he asked.
Hermione shook her head `No; I don't recognise the writing. But someone had to access the Ministry to lay the trap. It might be worth pursuing that line?'
Harry looked at her with affection, wondering why he continued to be surprised by her intelligence. She was not a law-enforcement officer and yet was thinking like one. `You would have made a good Auror,' he said quietly.
Hermione flushed at the compliment but decided to stay on topic. `So what do we do now?' asked Hermione.
`We try to find out who was near your office yesterday for a start. And while Kingsley has someone do that we have to talk to Blaise Zabini,' replied Harry. `And Willie Widdershins. Do we have him yet?'
Kingsley nodded. `Dawlish brought him in about an hour ago. He's in the cells downstairs. Blaise is being confined too though not in jail.'
`You heard what happened then?' asked Harry.
Kingsley nodded. `I heard. He could have just cocked up but…'
`Yeah,' interrupted Harry. `But. That's a word I've learned to hate. He could have been trying to warn them but how the hell do we prove that?' he paused for a moment, considering something. `And I should add that when Blaise did reach the top of the stairs he nearly had his head taken off with a curse. There is no way Dolohov meant to miss him; he couldn't have judged it so fine. If Blaise was working with them then they obviously don't need him anymore.' He paused again as something else occurred to him. `You said the other three died too. How? We wanted them alive.'
Kingsley grimaced. `It was the fire; it spread too fast. I asked about that too, Harry. Mark said that the Carrows were trapped in the building - he and Blaise had managed to pin them under some furniture and stun them. They never had time to get them out, although they did try.'
`And Crabbe?'
`Tom got him easily enough. He stunned him and then bound him so he could go and help you with Dolohov. He never had the chance to go back for him once the fire started.'
Harry nodded. `That's true enough; the flames spread too fast. Tom was lucky to get out when he did.'
`You were lucky Tom got out when he did,' replied Kingsley. `He was the only one who knew you were still inside. I thought he was going to strangle Dawlish when he was slow in dropping the wards. You only just made it.'
Harry nodded. `Another few seconds and I'd have been toast,' he confirmed. He did not notice Hermione shudder at the words. `So can I speak to Blaise? And Willie?' he asked.
Kingsley nodded. `Of course. And I would like to observe you in action, Soul Thief, if you have no objections, that is?
Harry smiled at the phrase. `No. Of course I have no objections. You could be useful; you are more intimidating than me.' He smiled. `Well; uglier anyway.'
Kingsley laughed, glad Harry could still joke. He was also pleased to be investigating again. Much as being Minister had its compensations, he did miss the thrill of the chase. And he would get the bastard behind all of this, he vowed. And when that happened he would be more than happy to see how far he could use his ministerial prerogative.
`Let's go then,' he said, suddenly pleased to be able to do something useful for once.
***********
Hermione tried to hide her distaste as she took a seat opposite Blaise Zabini. They were using Gawain Robards office to conduct the interview and whilst the surroundings were comfortable she could not put herself at ease in the presence of a man who might possibly be a traitor. She glanced over to the corner where Harry was having a quiet conversation with Kingsley and noticed that he looked grim. It was obvious that he had donned his Auror persona and she wondered what approach he would take. She had already witnessed his "bad cop" routine with Mundungus and she wondered if the same tactic would work with someone like Blaise who had also been trained in interrogation techniques and who would know all the tricks. Perhaps that was what Harry and Kingsley were discussing?
As she watched them she realised that she still felt a sense of unreality over everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. I had sex with Harry today, she thought to herself and she felt her colour heighten just a shade when she considered this. Less than a week ago she had not seen Harry for nearly a year. Now they had mutually declared their love for each other and she had just enjoyed the most mind blowing sex she had ever experienced. Harry had taken her to places that she did not know existed and when she considered that they had not taken their time - that they had both needed to slake an urgent thirst - she wondered at the future possibilities when they would be able to go at a slower pace. She found herself heating up just thinking about it.
She knew beyond doubt that she loved Harry - that she had always loved him. She was also aware that no matter what happened in the next few days, no matter what he wanted to do with his life, she had to be with him. She still struggled when she considered how close he had come to dying this morning - how close they had both come - and in darker moments she wondered what she would do if anything did happen to him. They really were all each other had.
She broke from her musings as Harry patted Kingsley on the arm and smiled. It was clear that her curiosity about how Harry would handle the interview would soon be satisfied as he swiftly grabbed a nearby chair and placed it directly in front of Blaise before sitting astride it.
`Right, you piece of shit. Who are you working for?' Harry asked without preamble and she could hear the contempt in his voice. It was obvious to her that he wasn't going for subtlety.
Blaise's eyes widened. `Working for? What do you mean?'
`I mean that it is perfectly obvious that you were trying to warn them we were coming. Falling over a cabinet? That's just a little bit too incompetent - even for an idiot like you.' His eyes hardened. `Who are you working for?'
`No one!' exclaimed Blaise. `It was an accident! I tripped.'
`Tripped?' Harry sneered. `Of course you bloody tripped! You couldn't have slid a silver sickle through that gap! What the hell were you up to, Blaise?'
`I thought I could get through,' replied Blaise. His features hardened. `I was getting through. I had nearly made it when I caught my foot on something. It was an accident. Besides,' he added, `you saw Dolohov fire that spell at me. Does that strike you as the actions of an ally?'
`Dolohov would curse his own mother if he thought it would help his cause. That proves nothing and you know it.'
`Fine,' said Blaise and Hermione was impressed with his demeanour. `Do what you want then, Potter. Prove that I acted deliberately. Prove that I was working for them,' he challenged.
And that's the problem, thought Hermione. We can't prove it.
`I don't need to prove it,' replied Harry. `I'll beat the truth out of you if I have too. Or I'll get some Veritaserum - how would you like that? You just reverted to type, didn't you? You couldn't stop yourself from helping your little Slytherin friends.'
`You can get the Veritaserum if you want Potter - I will say exactly what I'm saying now.' He paused before continuing. `You just can't get over your hatred for my school House, can you? Not every Slytherin is a Deatheater,' he said contemptuously, `just like not every Gryffindor is a hero. Don't tar us all with the same brush - I hated the Dark Lord just like you. I never asked to be a Slytherin; the hat decided that was where I belonged.' His eyes hardened. `And I don't regret it either. I'm proud of my House, even if arseholes like you hate us.'
Hermione thought Harry was going to attack the man there and then and so was surprised when he started to laugh contemptuously. She watched as he suddenly stood up and began to pace the room, deep in thought. Finally he stopped and placed his chin in his hand. `Well done, Blaise,' he finally said and there was no rancour in his voice. `I think you have managed to convince me. I actually do believe you. I don't think you're corrupt but you are fucking useless.' Hermione was caught out when he turned to face her before continuing. `What do you think?' he asked.
She was surprised at the question; she was not trained to interrogate people and didn't feel qualified to judge. Harry must have sensed her indecision for when he spoke again, his voice was gentler.
`You're a good judge of character, Hermione. You also used to tell me that House unity was important. Can we trust this Slytherin?'
She turned to stare at Blaise and wasn't surprised to see him stare straight back at her. She nodded her head. `Yes; I think we can. I think he's telling the truth. I believe him, Harry.'
`Why?' he asked and his tone was now urgent; intense.
`Because he's right; not every Slytherin is bad. Dumbledore always said that; he always said that the Houses had to stick together. He seems sincere to me and I'm usually quite good at spotting a liar. He's willing to take Veritaserum too. Besides,' she added, wondering if what she was about to say was relevant, `I don't think the Zabini family ever supported Voldemort.'
`What makes you think that?'
`I've met his mother. And his stepfather.' She turned to Blaise. `Stepfather number six, isn't he?' She could tell that Blaise was not too happy at her for bringing up his family history. Rumours about his mother's numerous widowhoods had persisted for years but nothing had ever been proven.
`When did you meet her?' asked Harry, clearly curious. She was surprised that he was pursuing this line with her.
`At one of those bloody parties. I only met her briefly - Fudge did most of the talking.' She noticed the questioning look on his face and explained further. `She has a vote on the Wizengamot and Fudge managed to persuade her to vote in our favour.'
`He did?' blurted Blaise and Hermione turned and saw a look of surprise on his face.
`Yes; he did. Did she not tell you?'
Blaise shrugged. `She doesn't tell me anything. I hardly see her these days.'
She turned back to Harry and noticed that he had an amused expression on his face. `So you think he's telling the truth because his mum seems a reasonable person?' he asked. She flushed, realising how absurd it sounded, but she nodded her admission.
He laughed. `It's OK, Hermione. I believe him too. He's not that good a liar. I'm glad that I'm not the only one who thinks so.' He turned to Blaise. `I am choosing to believe that you are incompetent rather than malicious but something is bothering me about what you said. What exactly did you trip over?'
Blaise looked astonished at Harry's words for a moment before he finally shrugged again. `I honestly don't know. I thought the way was clear. I must have caught my foot on a table leg or something.'
She noticed that Harry looked deeply thoughtful at this comment before he finally turned to Kingsley.
`OK, boss. I've heard enough. You can let him go if you want,' he said and she noticed that Kingsley accepted his words without demur. She turned back as Harry addressed her directly.
`Come on then, Miss Granger,' he began, offering his arm, `let's go and speak to Mr Widdershins. I have a feeling that his interview might be a bit more…stimulating.'
She smiled at his words and put her arm through the crook in his. With a final nod of acknowledgement to Blaise, she let Harry lead her off to the dungeons.
***********
Kreacher the House Elf listened carefully as two of his former colleagues from Hogwarts related what they had discovered. He nodded thoughtfully at the news, thanked them both for their trouble and dismissed them.
I must speak to Master, he thought to himself.
It had been a long week for Kreacher. When Mistress Granger had explained what his master required he had not been entirely sure that he would be able to accomplish what was being asked of him. Finding an elf that did not want to be found was not an easy task.
He had one advantage though; one thing in his favour that Mistress Granger would never fully grasp despite her best efforts to understand his kind. Kreacher was an important elf in his society and he was able to use his influence to achieve his master's request. It was what gave him this influence that Mistress Granger would never fathom.
Elves were naturally subservient; they preferred to have a master - indeed, for the vast majority of them, their personal happiness depended on having a master. But elves also had their own hierarchy and despite its archaic rules the majority adhered to it. Kreacher knew that he would have had a position of influence solely on account of his age - his species was one of the few that respected and revered their elders. He also knew that he was well regarded as a result of his actions in the battle at Hogwarts. But more importantly, to a species naturally subservient to human masters, the prestige and authority of an individual elf among elves derived directly from the importance of the master he or she served.
And Kreacher's master was Harry Potter, the greatest and most important wizard alive to house elves.
So when he had arrived at Hogwarts after receiving his orders he'd had no problem enlisting helpers in his mission. In fact, the Hogwarts elves had been honoured to be involved in such a task; this was Harry Potter who was giving the orders, after all; some of the younger ones had barely been able to contain their excitement.
So he had put feelers out. Had requested information on any elves who had been acting strange; who had seemed unhappy or - quite simply - had disappeared. His task had been made easier by the close-knit society of his kind. There were not that many elves in Britain - no more than a few thousand - and as a result just about every elf was known to each other - at least; known at one or two removes. It simplified his task but did not make it easy.
After explaining his master's desire, Kreacher had been left with very little to do save wait for a response. He had tried a few leads of his own but had discovered nothing so he had resolved himself to waiting patiently for the news to come back to him. Patience came easily to House Elves.
Now he had the answer his master was looking for and he prepared to bring him the tidings. He suspected that his master would not be pleased at what he had discovered but that was of no importance. He had been given an order and had carried it out. What his master did with the information was entirely his business.
With this in mind, Kreacher concentrated for a few moments before disappearing with a loud crack.
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