Unofficial Portkey Archive

Portkey staff note, Dec 16, 2010:

Re-uploading chapters 20 to 26 to fix errors brought on by our Oct 2010 server crash. It appears that database errors are preventing us from uploading beyond 25 chapters. As a temp fix, this page includes Chapters 24 to 26.

Note to authors:

To make sure all your chapter's text fits inside our webpage's designated text area, check that your original text file does not contain lengthy unbroken lines. To illustrate in this upload, we've used the characters . . . (ie, dots with spaces in between, instead of a continuous string of dots) to mark the end of each chapter here.

-gal-texter on behalf of Portkey.org staff

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 24 - Breakthrough

Harry followed Hermione into the apartment and made his way over to the sofa before dropping himself into it in a state of despondency. It had been an extremely eventful day and they had uncovered much in relation to the case but despite this he could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of defeat. We were so close! He knew that he should be pleased - he had after all performed his duty and managed to save Draco from the Dementors but instead he felt like he had failed; that his inability to uncover the truth was a damning indictment on his efforts. He knew - knew - that the answer was within his grasp but Kingsley's unexpected decision had largely taken the matter out of his hands; his "success" in saving Draco officially ended his interest in the case. John Dawlish was now back in charge of the matter as leading Auror in the investigation. It also meant that they had less than twenty four hours to discover the truth for with Kingsley's announcement tomorrow night, his official interest in the case would be over.

Hermione could sense his disappointment and could fully understand it. She considered trying to console him by pointing out that he had done his job but she knew that he would not be receptive to such attempts. The job was only half done and Harry would not be content with that. She too wasn't happy with the way things had turned out but she was aware that they still had time to succeed - she had to convince Harry not to give up just yet. She knew her man too well; knew that he would consider himself a failure for not uncovering the truth. She also knew how to break him out of his despondency.

'So what now?' she asked.

He looked at her, surprise etched on his e. 'Now? Buggered if I know. The case is over for us; Kingsley as good as told us that earlier.'

'But you don't believe that, do you?' She kept her own sense of disappointment out of her voice as she spoke. She had to snap him out of this. 'You don't think it's over at all. We still have a day to find the answers.

Harry closed his eyes and she could see he was struggling with himself. 'What difference does it make now?' he finally asked.

Hermione found herself feeling angry. 'Difference? I'm surprised at you, Harry. Kingsley could lose his job here. I could lose mine!' This got his attention, she saw. 'I can't believe you could be so obtuse, Harry! This is bigger than Draco; bigger than us. Has it not occurred to you that this has been about Kingsley all along? That this whole thing has been about our bill?'

'Of course it has occurred to me!' he snapped in reply and she was pleased with his reaction.

'So what do you intend to do about it?' she asked, her voice a challenge.

She watched as he visibly deflated. 'I don't know; I don't know what to do now. Any ideas?'

'A few,' she replied. 'But I need to know; are you willing to see this through?' She saw a flash of anger cross his e and knew she had hit a nerve. It seemed odd that she was now extolling him to continue but she could understand his despondency. She just had to rouse him from his despair. 'You have never walked away from a challenge in your life, Harry. Why start now?'

He closed his eyes and cursed himself for wallowing in self pity. 'You're right, Hermione. As usual. I'm sorry; I'm just a little taken aback by the speed of events. It's been quite a day.'

She smiled at his understatement and moved to join him on the sofa. She lay across it and leaned against him, her feet curled up at one end. 'It has been quite a day, hasn't it? Maybe we should just have stayed in bed?'

To her pleasure she began to feel him shake with silent laughter. It wasn't that her words were particularly humorous; rather it was a case that he had to accept what had happened before he could move on. She found herself laughing softly with him.

'Thanks,' he finally replied.

'What for?' she asked.

He turned his head to look at her. 'For everything. For always being here to keep an eye on me. For never letting me down. For…'

'Harry, I....' she began.

'Be quiet. I'm not finished,' he interrupted. He shifted his position so he could see her better. 'I was thinking earlier…'

'That's a novelty.'

'Hermione!' he said, exasperated. 'Let me finish, please?' She nodded her e a picture of mischief. 'I was thinking earlier about us. It occurred to me that I wasn't a very good friend to you at times.'

'Oh, Harry. Don't be silly,' she replied, now serious. 'I couldn't have asked for a better friend.'

'Yes you could. You have always been there for me, Hermione. You never - not once - abandoned me. You stuck by me when the whole school turned against me; you followed me to the Ministry even when you didn't agree with me. And you stayed with me on the Horcrux hunt after Ron left. And I never thanked you for that. I repaid you by usually taking Ron's side in an argument; by never telling you how much you mean to me; by not offering you comfort when you needed it. When I think about how I treated you after Ron left us back in seventh year I cringe. I totally abandoned you and yet when we visited my parent's graves you still offered me comfort. When I think about it I wish I could hex myself. Even after Ron died and I became what I did you still stood by me and pulled me back.'

'That doesn't matter now, Harry,' she replied softly and she could feel herself close to crying.

'Yes it does. I want you to hear this. I want you to know. I am nothing without you. I couldn't have done anything without you. I'm about ten years late in telling you this but I want you to hear it. I never want you to be in any doubt about how much I need you. Especially now.'

'Harry-:'

'Shhh. Not another word,' he interrupted as he leaned in to kiss her. It was slow and lingering and the two of them took their time to enjoy each other. They were still at the stage where it was a novelty to be doing this; where each kiss and caress was something of an adventure to them both.

'Don't ever leave me,' whispered Harry as they broke contact.

'Not in this life,' she replied, realising that she echoed his words from the previous night. They lay together in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their thoughts.

'Could you really lose your job?' Harry finally asked.

'Yes,' she replied simply. I am a Ministerial appointment. A new Minister might want someone else.'

He looked thoughtful for a moment. 'If Kingsley is ousted, who stands to take over?'

Hermione took a moment to reply. 'I don't know, to be honest. I suppose Robards would be a possibility but I don't think people would accept a third Minister in a row from the Aurors. It could be anyone I suppose.'

'So there is no obvious candidate? No frontrunner?'

'No; though I suppose whoever gets the job will have to get the support of the Wizengamot. It will need to be someone who keeps the media sweet too in order to gain popular support and I don't know who that would be. It basically means I have no idea if I will be kept on if Kingsley is forced out.'

'In that case we had better keep at this. You said you had a few ideas; what are they?'

She grimaced. 'Nothing original, I'm afraid. I just think we should keep going. Kreacher has narrowed the field down somewhat. We know someone on the list has to be involved. Someone who could order the elves around. We should return to Gringott's and see what we can find - check out those names. Someone tried to kill me, Harry. That might be because they wanted to get to you but it might also be because we are getting close. I think we should keep going.'

Harry nodded vaguely, still feeling the anger when he considered what nearly occurred. He thought too on the list Hermione had obtained from Kingsley. It didn't mention names; rather it listed the positions in the Ministry that held authority over the elves. He hadn't even known that the Ministry had elves but as Hermione had explained, who else did he think performed all the crappy jobs? Someone cleaned up every night and made sure all the candles were lit. Someone cooked all the food for the canteen and disposed of all the rubbish afterwards. It had just never occurred to him that elves would be involved.

The list made for interesting reading though; it mentioned the Minister and all his department heads as well as a few other positions within the Auror Division. If a person was appointed to one of these positions then they automatically assumed this authority. Hermione had been thoughtful enough to pencil the names of each office holder next to their job title and there were a few individuals that gave him food for thought.

Gawain Robards was listed, as were John Dawlish, Tom Proudfoot and Mark Savage among the Aurors. Judge Swing was listed too as was Cuthbert Mockridge. He'd been surprised by his inclusion as he was not a department head but Hermione had explained that he had once been the head of the old Goblin Liaison office. Apparently once one obtained the authority one didn't lose it. There were a few others that he recognised and some that he didn't but the list only totalled seventeen people when Hermione and Kingsley were discounted.

It gave them something to go on.

'I agree,' he finally replied. 'Tomorrow we go to Gringotts and examine the accounts of the people on this list with a fine toothcomb. There isn't much else we can do for the moment.'

'Oh, I don't know, Harry,' replied Hermione with a sly grin. 'Right at this particular moment I can think of a few things we can do.' She shifted her position and swung her right leg over him so that she was now straddling him on the sofa.

'In t,' she continued in a soft voice, 'I suggest we use our imaginations. The possibilities are endless,' she added as she leaned in to kiss him.

***********

Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned back in his chair and waited for Arthur Weasley to respond to what he had just told him. Despite the t that it was first thing in the morning, he had asked Arthur to call in and see him in order to seek advice from someone he knew he could trust. He respected Arthur as much as any man alive and valued his company and - more importantly - his friendship.

He had told Arthur everything that had been going on in the Malfoy case; although in light of recent events that particular title was hardly accurate anymore. Things had moved way beyond Draco Malfoy. Arthur had listened in silence as he had gone through everything that Harry and Hermione had uncovered so far. He had let his friend see the list of names of those who had authority over Ministry elves and he had also given him a list of people who could have accessed Hermione's office and lain the trap. He had then informed him of his decision to use his prerogative to save Malfoy from the Dementor's Kiss. He hadn't needed to elaborate; despite not holding senior office, Arthur would be well aware of the consequences of such action.

'So it's about the Bill?' Arthur finally asked. 'Everything has been about this Bill?'

'Not exactly, Arthur. There are obviously a few things going on but I honestly don't think anyone could manipulate events to such a degree. If Cho Chang was murdered to undermine my position then we are dealing with a Machiavellian genius. I think Harry is correct; I think Cho discovered something she wasn't supposed to know and that is why she was killed. It's possible that the framing of Draco Malfoy was a shaft at me but it seems unlikely that someone could predict how this would all pan out.'

'Don't underestimate them, Kingsley,' replied Arthur. 'Everyone knows you play it straight. If there was any doubt about Malfoy's guilt then everyone knows you would step in to save him, regardless of the consequences. It's something to bear in mind.'

Kingsley nodded. 'That had occurred to me but it doesn't add up. Last week I was certain that Draco was as guilty as sin. It is only because of what Harry and Hermione have uncovered that I now believe him innocent. And no one - no one - could have predicted that Harry would return and get involved in this. Narcissa really threw a curve ball with that decision. If she hadn't appointed him Soul Thief, her son would have been Kissed by now - there would have been no decision for me to make.'

Arthur considered this for a long moment. 'The way I see it; you were forced into an untenable position.' He stood up and began pacing the room - something that was really the prerogative of the Minister but Kingsley didn't mind. 'If you had allowed Malfoy to be Kissed then you would have pissed off a lot of the moderates. If you stepped in to save him then the conservatives would be angry. Some of these people would vote against you, Kingsley. Perhaps not many, but maybe enough to swing the vote. Regardless of whether or not Harry returned, you would have had to sign off on the verdict. It's something to consider, surely?'

Kingsley remained silent at this, realising the truth of what Arthur had said. Was I the target all along? If so; I'm dealing with a very clever bastard.

How are Harry and Hermione anyway?' asked Arthur. 'When I heard about what happened yesterday…'

'Yeah; I know,' replied Kingsley quietly. 'They were lucky. We were lucky.' He sighed. 'Harry's not too happy with me at the minute. I told him he had performed his duties as Soul Thief but he wouldn't accept that. Said he had failed because he hadn't found out who was behind all this.'

Arthur smiled. 'Sounds just like him; no half measures for that lad. He'll be worried about you too; he won't want you to be voted out.'

'I know, but there is nothing I can do. I can't let an innocent man be Kissed - not even a Malfoy,' he added as he turned his attention at a soft rap on his office door. 'Come in!' he said.

He smiled as Susan poked her head into the office. 'Sorry to bother you, boss,' she began, 'but this just arrived by owl. It's from Azkaban.'

Kingsley practically leapt out of his chair and took the letter from Susan before ripping it open and scanning it quickly. It wasn't a long letter; it merely contained a list of those people who had visited the prison for one reason or another in the weeks before the break-out. He knew that Dawlish had given assurances that all the names were clean but he wanted to check for himself. One of his greatest frustrations as Minister was having to watch inferior men attempt to do the job he had spent over twenty years mastering. He would always remain an Auror at heart, he knew.

His eyes made their way down the list of names and when he got to about halfway down his heart froze in his chest.

'Sweet Merlin,' he breathed. It couldn't be true, could it?

'What's wrong?' asked Arthur.

'Can you hand me the other lists please, Arthur?' asked Kingsley. He waited until his friend had complied and began to cross-check the names of those who controlled the elves with those who could have accessed Hermione's office. Then he turned his attention back to the list from Azkaban.

There was one name on all three lists. Only one.

It could be a coincidence, of course, but twenty years as an Auror had taught him not to believe in coincidence.

He wordlessly handed the lists over to his friend. He knew Arthur would know what this was about. He watched as he scanned the three sheets of parchment before he too froze and looked up, his e a question.

'Yes, Arthur,' Kingsley finally said. 'I think we may have something. But what do I do with it?'

Arthur took his time to reply 'You can't hand this to the Aurors, Kingsley. You know this. That department is compromised. You only have one option.

'I know,' replied Kingsley. 'Susan!' he shouted suddenly and waited until she returned to the office. 'Susan? Could you send this to Harry and Hermione immediately please? It's vital that they receive this as soon as possible.'

Susan nodded her acceptance of the order and took the letter before hastening out of the office. Kingsley turned to his friend.

'I think we just had a break in the Malfoy case,' he said quietly.

***********

Harry awoke early the next morning to bright sunshine as it beamed in through the light curtains that hung in front of the window. He took a moment to transit from sleep to wakefulness but soon became aware of the sleeping form of Hermione as she spread across him, her head on his chest. Once again he decided that he would never get tired of this and he still could hardly believe the turn of events that had made this possible. Last night had been…energetic to say the least and when he thought back on what they had shared it occurred to him that she could get him to do things, take him to places that he hadn't even known existed. She was incredible and seemed to know exactly what buttons to push to get him going. Just when he thought he was completely spent she would somehow manage to spur him on again to new heights. He reckoned that she did not too badly out of him either judging by some of the reactions and noises that he had managed to elicit from her and as he adjusted himself to e the new day it occurred to him that he had never felt so content in his entire life despite everything that had happened the previous day. He lay for a few moments, his eyes drinking in her and he smiled when she finally stirred and opened her eyes, blinking as she did so.

'Good morning,' he said casually.

She smiled in return. 'Morning, Harry,' she replied before stretching her long limbs into wakefulness. Harry took a few seconds to enjoy the view and she sensed his pleasure and allowed her fingers to run across his navel and then lower. 'Ready for the day are we?' she said with amusement.

'Well, part of me seems to be anyway,' he replied before sliding out of the bed. 'Some things we men have no control over,' he added as he made his way to the bathroom. Like most men the world over, he tended to be first to use that particular room in the morning. Magic could achieve many things, he thought in amusement, but he reckoned that some things would always remain beyond its reach.

Once he had freshened up he pulled on a pair of trousers before flipping on the coffee machine in order to really start the day. He noticed with surprise that there was a couple of newspapers on the coffee table and he realised that Kreacher must have visited during the night in order to drop them off. He hoped they had been asleep when he was here; the noise coming from the bedroom might have scared him away otherwise.

He picked up the top copy and realised that it was today's edition of the Prophet. As his eyes scanned the front page he felt the anger rise within him. The article contained an interview with Kingsley who had revealed his intention to call a special session of the Wizengamot. It also contained speculation about the Minister's future and even questioned whether Hermione would survive as head of the DMC if Kingsley were to fall.

'That bloody bitch!' he whispered to himself.

'Who is?' asked Hermione as she entered the room, tying a knot in the cord of her dressing gown as she did so.

'Rita,' he replied handing her the paper. 'She bloody revels in this,' he added as he watched her read. He noticed her eyes harden and he cursed all reporters.

'Don't worry about it, Harry. This sort of thing comes with the territory. I thought you would have realised that by now.'

'I have, but it doesn't mean I can't have a rant about it.' He turned to the other paper on the table and realised that Kreacher had come good again; it was the edition from the day after Cho's murder. He flipped through it quickly hoping to find some answers. Eventually he found the society section and closely examined the photograph at the top of the page. In it, Chang, Fudge, Mockridge Swing, Robards and Dawlish all stood waving at the camera, stupid fixed grins on their faces. He realised that the photo was taken in Chang's study but supposed that this was to ensure no Muggles saw what was going on. Discarding the picture as irrelevant, he began to read.

Fun and Fundraising at Chang's

By Teresa Kiter, Society Correspondent

Charity was the order of the day at the fundraising gala hosted by Cheng-Jung Chang last night and a great time was had by all as the money poured in. It was an unusual function as it was also attended by Muggle guests but in the opinion of this reporter, a magical time was had by all.

The ladies shone as brightly as the jewellery on display with the emphasis being on grand formality for this gala occasion. The Gentlemen too were resplendent in…'

Harry closed his eyes and cursed softly. This wasn't what he was looking for; it was a list of who had attended and what they had been wearing - nothing more. Hermione seemed to sense his annoyance and put down her paper on the table before sidling over to him and glancing at the article over his shoulder.

'Well, what did you expect?' she finally asked in amusement.

'I was hoping that it might have mentioned something out of the ordinary,' he replied.

't chance, Harry. It only concerns itself with shion and gossip. After I was at one of these things it said I should make more of an effort. I made a speech about the Bill and all it mentioned was that my shoes didn't match my bag. I should have told you not to get your hopes up.'

He sighed, folding the paper and tossing it back on top of today's edition on the table. It seemed that every time he thought he might have a lead a door was slammed in his face. This particular idea had been a long shot, he knew, but that didn't alleviate his disappointment. To make himself feel better he poured himself a cup of coffee before making one for Hermione too.

'So what now then?' he asked. 'Gringotts?'

'I think so. And the quicker we get there the better,' she added before taking a sip of coffee.

Harry grimaced, knowing that a day of pouring over ledgers lay ahead. He glanced at Hermione.

Well, at least the company will be good.

***********

Just over three hour later, Harry and Hermione found themselves back in the small room allocated to them by Ragnok pouring over the remaining ledgers that still had to be examined. Harry had been surprised to discover that Hermione had worked her way through most of them and his feeling of despondency increased as he realised that she had already examined the account of those names that were familiar to them. She had assured him that there was nothing out of the ordinary in them; only what seemed to be normal transfers in and out that formed part of the daily transactions of any typical bank account. They had decided to review the accounts of those on the Ministry list Hermione had obtained but still nothing leapt out.

We're missing something, he thought to himself. There's a key to all of this and it will open up the whole case. He remained convinced that the answer lay somewhere in this room but he was also conscious that they were running out of time.

He was already bored and was somewhat astonished at the way Hermione was able to concentrate fully on something he knew she found as tedious as he did. She sat with an open book in front of her and minutely examined each line, each transaction as carefully as the first. After about five minutes he struggled to differentiate between one item and the next and he couldn't fathom how she was able to do it. Sighing, he stood to stretch his legs and clear his head. He allowed his eyes to wander over Hermione as she sat in deep concentration and once again he smiled as he marvelled at his good fortune. He had never felt better in his entire life. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned before returning to the pile of ledgers on his desk.

A few minutes later he glanced up at a knock on the door and sat back in his chair as a Goblin entered, carrying an envelope.

'Mr Potter? Miss Granger? This just arrived,' the Goblin said as he handed the letter to Hermione. Harry decided to let her deal with it, although he was extremely curious as to what it was about. He waited patiently as Hermione read the parchment and felt a sudden alarm as he noticed that her hand had begun to shake.

'Harry?' she finally asked, unaware of his scrutiny.

'What is it?' he asked carefully.

'You really need to see this,' she replied, looking up at him. He noticed that she was regarding him with deep concern and it was with a growing sense of trepidation that he stood to approach her.

'What is it?' he repeated.

'It's from Kingsley,' she replied. 'It's a list of names of people who visited Azkaban around the time the Deatheaters escaped. I…I don't think you're going to like what I have to say. There's only one name that it could be. There's a name listed here that…' she paused, unable to continue.

'That what?' he replied quietly. 'A name that what?'

'A name that appears on all three lists, Harry. The Elf list; the Ministry list and the Azkaban list.'

Harry felt confused. Surely this was good news? Why was she looking so upset?

'Who is it then?'

Hermione squared herself and looked at him with determination.

'It's Tom Proudfoot, Harry. He's the only one it could have been. He's the one we've been looking for all along.'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 25 - Realisation

'It's Tom Proudfoot, Harry. He's the only one it could have been. He's the one we've been looking for all along.'

It took a few seconds for her words to sink in and when they did Harry could not immediately accept them. He moved away from her, almost as if she were contaminated in some way, and sank onto a nearby chair. He shook his head.

'It can't be, Hermione,' he finally managed. 'Tom is my friend; he's my partner. We've been through…'

'That doesn't matter, Harry,' Hermione replied, not unkindly. 'You mustn't let personal feelings cloud your judgment. Kingsley hit the nail on the head - no one is above suspicion. No one.'

'But Tom…'

'Tom is the only person who ticks all our boxes, damn it!' The anger was evident in her voice now. 'You have to be objective and look at this rationally.' Her voice softened. 'Harry? Someone has betrayed us - betrayed you. It is only someone that we trust that can do this to us. Think about this; look at the facts and pretend you don't know Tom. Act as if he isn't your friend and then tell me if you think he could be responsible for this. You have been more involved in this case than I have - you are a trained Auror and you know what to look for. Go over everything that has occurred and at least consider the possibility that Tom might be involved. Then tell me what you think.'

Harry took a deep breath and bit back the biting retort he had intended unleashing. This isn't Hermione's fault. Think about this! She's right; you are supposed to be an Auror! Be objective. If it were anyone but Tom I would examine all the possibilities.

He closed his eyes for a few moments and thought about everything that had happened, all the while taking into consideration the possibility that Tom was involved. He reconstructed events in his head, all the while making an assumption about Tom's guilt - looking at things from his point of view. After a minute or two, he opened his eyes and regarded her solemnly. Having looked at the facts in a new light he realised that a number of possibilities had been opened up and he felt a cold rage sweep over him. Oh, God. She's right; it has to be Tom. No one else fits the bill. He noticed that Hermione had a concerned look on her face; that despite everything that had happened she was worried about how this latest revelation was affecting him. He shook his head, knowing that he had to relate what he had been thinking about. He decided to start at the beginning.

'The key,' he said softly.

Hermione looked confused for a moment. 'What about it?'

'The key to Draco's flat was missing from the evidence Dawlish sent us. When we went to looking for it, Tom was the one who managed to dig it out, wasn't he?' She nodded and he continued. 'He probably had it all along. He probably read Dawlish's report and realised that Modric had made a mistake. He probably removed it believing that no one would think to ask about it. After all, it was hardly crucial to the case.'

'That's possible, Harry,' began Hermione. 'What abou…'

'I'm not finished yet,' he interrupted. 'When I went to pick up the remainder of Ron's files I was worried about Dawlish and Blaise. Tom came with me to the archive room and watched me remove everything - even though I had just told the others I was only following up a probable dead lead. It never occurred to me that he might be involved but I reckon taking all of that stuff when I had said I only wanted to check a detail put the wind right up him. The decision to have a pop at you was probably taken after that. He would have known we were on to something.' He frowned in anger as he recalled the scene. 'The bastard was even cracking jokes with me.'

Hermione realised that this was difficult for him but she needed to be sure that he was thinking straight. She decided to adopt a dispassionate tone; almost as if she were a presiding judge. 'It's still a bit thin, Harry. It won't stand up in court,' she finally replied. She had already formed her own opinion and was more than ready to believe in Tom's guilt but she knew that the law would require proof.

'It doesn't need to,' he replied. 'I'm only getting warmed up. There were a couple of things about the raid that I couldn't work out - things that have been niggling away at me without me knowing why. Now I do,' he added grimly.

'What things?' she asked, clearly curious.

'I couldn't for the life of me work out what caused Blaise to trip. The idiot shouldn't have tried to force that gap but he was right; he was making it through until he tripped. But there was nothing for him to trip over. Now I remember; it was Tom who alerted me to the danger. It was Tom who pointed out to me what Blaise was doing. He hissed a warning but he did it before Blaise fell. When I turned to look he could have cast a jinx that made Blaise fall on his arse - he was behind me at that moment. There was no problem with Blaise until Tom pointed it out.'

'This is still only supposition,' replied Hermione, playing the role of Devil's advocate with aplomb, thought Harry. 'What else do you have?'

'Fiendfyre,' he replied. 'He couldn't risk us taking any of the Deatheaters alive because they would have revealed his involvement. When we got split up Tom went after Crabbe and I took Dolohov. Kingsley told me that Tom had stunned and bound Crabbe but I'd stake anything that he killed him. He had a problem then; he still had to deal with the other three. He must have decided to come after me first - he was behind me when Dolohov cast the flames.'

'So what does the Fiendfyre have to do with this?' asked Hermione.

'Dolohov gave Tom the idea. It struck me at the time that the flames were spreading in all directions. That's not normal for that spell; you know what happened in the Room of Requirement - the flames come right for you first and then destroy everything else. But during the raid only some of them came for me - the flames Dolohov cast. Tom must have cast his own spell in order to get the others. That's why the fire spread so fast and why it spread in every direction. He knew that the other escapees would probably be caught up in the flames too.'

'But Tom was the one who warned the others that you were still inside. It was Tom who got the wards lowered,' interjected Hermione, still intent on making sure of Harry's reasoning. She was glad to see that he could be objective about this.

'I know; but remember what Dolohov told me. They want me alive. I have no idea why, but they want me alive. He was just following orders.' He looked directly at her. 'I'm doing what you suggest, Hermione. I'm looking at this objectively. This is all guesswork but if he is involved then this would explain some of what happened. And we can't ignore the facts in front of us, I suppose. Tom is the only person who was at Azkaban when the Deatheaters escaped; who could order Modric around and who had the ability to lay the trap at your office.' He sighed after saying this. 'He's also capable of creating a few anonymous notes to lead the others in the direction he wanted. First Ron; then Draco; then you. He's probably the one who has been feeding Rita all the little scoops she's been getting recently too. He's one of the few people who were involved in all of this from the beginning. He was one of the first to know that you had agreed to help me. He would have been on the scene at Malfoy's arrest and he would have been heavily involved in the investigation into Ron's death too. Rita had very precise information on all of this so she had to be speaking to someone who was directly involved. I can't ignore all of this. It could be nothing more than coincidence but Kingsley taught me a long time ago not to believe in coincidence.'

Hermione nodded her agreement having already come to the same conclusion. It was obvious that Kingsley agreed too. 'So what now? Do we bring him in for questioning? Do we contact the Aurors?'

Harry smiled; a twisted grimace that showed what he felt about the whole thing. 'No; Kingsley sent this information to us for a reason.'

'What reason?'

'We don't have much time left - he's addressing the Wizengamot later today. If he had sent this through the proper channels then Robards would have to take charge and we don't know if he's involved too. Even if he's clean he would have to order a full internal inquiry and we wouldn't find out who is behind all of this in time to save Kingsley's job. The press would then find out too and would have a field day. Kingsley's position would be undermined even further. And there is also the possibility that we are dealing with a conspiracy; that there are more people involved. Tom isn't clever enough to come up with all of this on his own but he would .be a useful ally to whoever is pulling the strings.'

Hermione considered all of this and reluctantly accepted that Harry was probably correct in believing that someone else was really running things. This was politics and she did not even pretend to understand that particular game. She knew that Harry didn't appreciate it either but she was also aware that he had a more cynical view than her on what politicians were capable of. She supposed it was because he'd had plenty of bitter experience in dealing with politicians in the past. 'What do we do then?' she finally asked, her voice betraying her disapproval at the decision to allow Tom to remain at large.

'We use what we have.' He smiled. 'Tell me; do we have Tom's bank account ledger in here?'

Hermione nodded and he could detect a hint of colour on her cheeks.

'You didn't check it, did you?' he asked softly.

She reddened fully. 'No; I just assumed that Tom wouldn't be involved. He's your friend and you trusted him and I thought he was nice. I'm sorr…'

'Don't apologise,' he interjected. 'I wouldn't have checked him out either. And he can be a charming bastard when he wants to be. But now we know where to look. I suggest we start there. Who knows? It might lead us somewhere useful,' he added in a voice she had not heard from him before.

Hermione shuddered at the tone. She knew Harry so well; knew that he was open and honest and valued friendship and loyalty above everything. She also knew how he looked upon those that breached this trust and she was aware that Tom Proudfoot had a day of reckoning to face soon. When Harry did finally decide to take him down there wouldn't be anywhere on Earth for the turncoat to hide. She shook herself free of these thoughts and approached the pile of ledgers. Thinking about what was to come wouldn't hasten its arrival; they had a lot of work to do before then.

*************

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked up from the inevitable folder at the knock on his office door and smiled as Susan popped her head round to speak to him.

'Narcissa Malfoy is here to see you,' she said and Kingsley nodded as he placed the file on the desk.

'Give me a minute before sending her in please,' he replied and leaned back in his chair as Susan disappeared again. Once again he wondered if he were doing what was right and smiled ruefully to himself as he remembered the advice Dumbledore used to give to everyone who passed through his school. One should always do what was right rather than what was easy.

He knew that what he was doing certainly wasn't easy so he took some consolation from the fact that this should mean what he was doing was right. Probably.

He sighed and got to his feet before pacing the floor of his office, deep in thought. Several hours had passed since he had taken the decision to send Harry the information he'd received from Azkaban and he wondered if he had acted correctly. He knew that the correct procedure would have been to relate his suspicions to Gawain Robards but he had refrained from doing so for two reasons. First; he did not know if Robards could be trusted as there existed the possibility that he was in collusion with Proudfoot. He smiled suddenly, aware that part of him was grimly amused at how he no longer could bring himself to call the man "Tom" anymore.

The second reason for acting as he did was because he knew he was running out of time. Harry and Hermione were probably his last hope of remaining in office and he fully intended to battle to cling on to his position. It was not the power that motivated him to do this - although in more reflective moments he would admit that the power was at least a part of his reasoning. But what really drove him was his desire to make a difference. He believed that his administration had been of benefit to his society and that he had done much to heal the wounds after the fall of Voldemort. The equality bill was to have been his crowning glory - his legacy to future generations. He believed in it passionately and now the bill was in jeopardy for when he made his announcement a few hours from now all hell was going to break loose. This was why he had sent the list to Harry; only he could save him now and only if he could uncover the conspiracy.

He sighed again, knowing that he was a victim of his own nature. He could never allow an innocent man to be Kissed and he knew - knew - that Draco Malfoy was not involved in the death of Cho Chang. Unfortunately, his enemies also seemed to be aware of this fact. They had him cornered and had done it by using his own integrity. It just seemed difficult to believe that someone had planned all of this.

He looked up as his door opened once again and Narcissa Malfoy entered, outwardly looking as composed as ever. His trained eye noticed a few cracks in the facade, however. Despite the air of cold beauty that emanated from her he could see the strain evident in her eyes. The past week must have been hell on earth for her and as Draco's day of reckoning drew ever nearer she must have felt the burden of worry like a crushing weight. He smiled suddenly, realising that at least one good thing would happen as a result of his decision.

'Narcissa; thank you for agreeing to see me,' he began. 'Please; take a seat.'

Narcissa nodded her acknowledgment at the words but did not reply immediately. Instead, she took her time to sit down and waited until the Minister had done like wise. Only then did she feel the need to respond.

'I must say, Minister, I am certainly curious as to why you wish to see me. I received notification of the special session of the Wizengamot called for later today but I was surprised at your request for a personal interview too.'

'It is concerning the special session that I wanted to speak with you first,' he replied.

'Indeed?' asked Narcissa, an eyebrow raised.

'Yes,' he replied, feeling slightly discomfited under her cold scrutiny. 'I will be informing the Council later today that I will be invoking my right to use my Ministerial Prerogative. I will be telling them that I will not allow the Dementor's Kiss to be used as punishment if Draco is found guilty. I am required by law to declare this no later than twenty four hours before the trial is due to commence. The judge has already been informed; the session is just a legal formality.'

He watched her as the impact of his words finally hit home. It was a measure of the stress that she was under that it took a few moments for the implications to sink in. She opened her mouth in surprise before the ice finally cracked and she placed her head in her hands and began to sob quietly with relief.

'Oh, thank Merlin,' she whispered and Kingsley felt deeply uncomfortable at her reaction. He grabbed some blank parchment from the corner of his desk and quickly transfigured it into a box of tissues before sliding them across to her. She gratefully took a handful and dabbed at her eyes.

'Please accept my apologies, Minister,' Narcissa began. 'I am…'

'There is no need to apologise,' he replied with a smile. 'It is perfectly understandable. This past week cannot have been easy for you.'

She nodded her agreement before looking him directly in the eye. 'How can I ever thank you?' she asked.

Kingsley grimaced. 'Don't thank me. Thank Harry and Hermione. They uncovered enough to convince me that Draco has been framed.' He sighed. 'Unfortunately, they have not managed to discover who is responsible. Yet,' he added meaningfully.

'So Draco will still stand trial?' Narcissa asked.

Kingsley nodded. 'I'm afraid so but with what your Soul Thief has discovered I believe that there is enough element of doubt to acquit him. But even if he is convicted he will only be sent to Azkaban. At least then you will have the opportunity to appeal and have the time to investigate further. It is the best I can do.'

'It is more than I could have ever hoped for, Minister. Again; thank you.' She paused before continuing. 'I have some idea what this decision may cost you. You will not have your enemies to seek after you announce this. Has it occurred to you…?'

'It has occurred to me, Narcissa. I am not yet without all hope. Harry refuses to give up - he believes he can still uncover the truth. Even now he is working away on the case despite my decision.'

Narcissa smiled at these words and it occurred to Kingsley that this was probably the first genuine smile he had seen from her all week. The relief of Draco's reprieve had obviously worked wonders for her.

'It would not be Harry if he were to throw in the towel, would it?' she asked. 'Has he anything new to go on?'

Kingsley considered the question and gauged just how much he should reveal to her. 'We had a possible break in the case earlier today. I trusted only Harry with checking it out and I would be grateful if you could keep this to yourself.' He glanced at his watch. 'He only has a few hours to come through for us but I believe if anyone can do it, he can. And Hermione of course.'

Narcissa's smile broadened even further. 'Of course, Minister,' she repeated. 'Where would Mr Potter be without Miss Granger, I wonder?' She stood suddenly and held out her hand. 'You will forgive me if I take my leave of you? I must inform my son of your decision. His torture has gone on long enough.'

Kingsley stood too and took the proffered hand. He shook it but as he made to release his grip she tightened her hold on it. 'Thank you,' she whispered. 'From the bottom of my heart; thank you.'

He could only smile as she finally released him and turned towards the door. He'd been correct; at least one good thing was going to happen as a result my decision.

As he sat down he was content; he had done what was right and avoided the easy path.

Now it was all down to Harry.

***********

Harry sat back in is chair and rubbed his face with both hands, his fingers rubbing up behind his glasses as he did so. They had been looking at dusty old ledgers for hours and had discovered some interesting things but so far the answer still eluded them. He'd needed to take a break as the numbers were beginning to swim before his eyes but he had not managed to convince Hermione to let up and as he glanced in her direction he noticed that she still had her head down buried in yet another ledger. He smiled as he saw the fierce concentration on her face and marvelled at her focus.

They had found some inconsistencies immediately when they had opened Tom's ledger. There were a number of unexplained transactions - including one for a very large amount of Galleons that had been paid into his account and then removed on the same day. That the date in question was three days before the Azkaban breakout was more than a coincidence and he was now convinced that this was a part of what Cho had discovered and had wanted to tell Ron.

But they still hadn't worked out who was behind the money. All they could discover next to this particular transaction were the initials "T.K." These letters appeared regularly in the account and when they had examined a few other ledgers they discovered that they appeared regularly in these books too. Unfortunately, "TK" could mean anyone - or indeed, anything. All that they could say for certain was that a lot of money was changing hands from one account to another. Until they discovered the source, they had nothing to take to Kingsley.

He leaned back and spotted the two copies of the Daily Prophet that lay on the desk. Picking up the top copy, he flicked it open and realised that it was the edition from the previous week - from the day after Cho died. He looked once again at the photograph atop the article on Chang's party and studied it intensely. Something was telling him that the answer was here; that at least one of the people in the room that night was involved somehow, but he still could not grasp what it was. He felt the frustration rise within him. We're so close!

'Are you still clutching at straws, Harry?' asked Hermione with a smile and he was shaken from his thoughts at the question..

He smiled, glad she could still joke about things. 'I just needed a break. These ledgers are beginning to do my head in. You know me; study was never my strongest suit.'

She smiled in return. 'No; it wasn't. I seem to remember having to bail you out a few times at school. You were never the most methodical of students.'

'No; I was more of an…improviser,' he replied.

'You mean you made it up as you went along?'

'Pretty much. Hey; I didn't do too badly, did I? Sometimes my methods worked out OK,' he added defensively.

'Sometimes they did,' she allowed, still smiling. 'But sometimes the way you looked at things were…unique,' she added, congratulating herself on her tact.

'Unique? That's one way of putting it I suppose,' he replied, feigning affront. 'But you have told me before that sometimes you need to take a new angle on thi…'

'What is it?' Hermione asked a touch alarmed at the way he tailed off in mid-sentence. She watched as his eyes narrowed and realised that something had occurred to him. She decided not to speak; decided instead to allow him to follow whatever new train of thought had entered his head. She noticed that he sat up straighter; that his breathing had quickened and she knew that he was on to something. He was studying the newspaper again, his eyes drawn towards the photograph at the top of the page and she realised that he had the same look of the hunter in his eyes as he did when seeking the snitch.

Time passed. Whether it was a few seconds or a few minutes she did not know such was the intensity with which she watched her man as he mulled over whatever new idea had presented itself. She didn't even speak when he suddenly stood up and approached the pile of books in the corner before beginning to flip open ledgers, one after the other, tossing unwanted ones over his shoulder until he found what he was looking for. She noticed that he had separated a few from the pile and she could contain herself no longer.

'What is it?' she finally asked and she realised that she was shaking where she sat.

He turned to face her and she could see the excitement written all over his face. She held her breath.

'I think I know who is behind all of this, Hermione,' he finally answered in a low voice and she felt her own sense of elation as she recognised the truth in his eyes.

'I need some parchment,' he continued. 'And a quill. We are going to have to pick up some of the papers from your apartment too. I have a few ideas to confirm and I'm going to need your brains to do it.' He took a deep breath.

'We've got the bastards, Hermione. We've got them!'

She didn't know what to say in response - didn't even know who or what he was talking about. But she knew her man and knew by his reaction that they did indeed have them.

Soon, someone was going to pay.

***********

Kingsley Shacklebolt approached the Council chamber with the same feelings as one that was walking to meet the executioner. He had told only Harry, Hermione, Arthur Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy of his reasons for calling the special session and as he approached the great double doors of the chamber he caught more than one member cast a curious glance in his direction. He didn't know for certain how his decision would be greeted - all he did know was that some of the more conservative elements of the Wizengamot (not to mention the numerous enemies of Lucius Malfoy) would not be too enamoured when they discovered that Draco was not to be Kissed. The attitudes of some of his political colleagues disgusted him at times and he was well aware that if Voldemort had triumphed he would not have had any trouble in finding willing allies for his cause. It was yet another dream of his - political reform - but he knew that this would be a slow process. The equality bill was the first step on that long road and his great fear was that his dream might be strangled at birth.

He nodded affably to John Dawlish and Blaise Zabini who stood guard at the entrance to the chamber. He had decided to allow Blaise to return to his duties. He was convinced that the man had been the victim of a cheap trick and so had found no further cause to punish him. Besides; he had an inkling that they might need every loyal man soon enough.

As he passed into the chamber his eyes scanned the room until they alighted on the two Aurors standing guard by the Minister's lectern. He recognised the stocky stature of Mark Savage and the tall form of Tom Proudfoot who stood next to him. He nodded to them both, concealing his anger and suppressing the desire to pull out his wand and curse Tom Proudfoot here and now. He knew the man was a traitor but he didn't have enough proof yet. He could only pray that Harry had found something of use but so far this was proving to be a forlorn hope.

He took his seat and waited patiently as the benches around him filled up with the movers and shakers of the magical world. He acknowledged a few greetings; ignored a few others and generally concealed his impatience as the seats slowly began to fill. After about ten minutes the great doors were swung shut and the last of the council members took their seats. He wasn't surprised to notice that it was Lucius Malfoy who was the last to take his place and he wondered vaguely if Narcissa had informed her husband of what was about to be declared.

He shrugged, dismissing this as irrelevant. He strode to the lectern and surveyed the room, smiling as he did so. He took a sip from a glass of water placed discreetly by his right hand and looked up to address the council.

'My dear colleagues,' he began, 'I have called you here today to…'he stopped abruptly. Stopped because the attention in the room was not on him - rather it was on a commotion that could be heard on the other side of the great doors. He paused, frowning at the interruption and turned to order Mark Savage to investigate. People were on their feet trying to catch a glimpse of what was occurring and he was just about to call for order when the great doors crashed open and Harry strode in, Hermione at his side.

Kingsley said nothing, instead allowing an eyebrow to rise in question. Harry didn't speak; didn't react to the shouting and yelling going on all around him. It was yet another of his grand entrances and as Kingsley watched him he looked directly into his eyes and smiled before giving an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

What Kingsley felt at that moment was almost the same as his emotional state when Voldemort had been destroyed. He felt a surge of hope well up within him. Hope and pride; hope for the future and pride in the young man who had once again overcome all the odds and personal tragedy to come through for them all.

He smiled at his friend. Smiled and stood down to approach him. As he neared Harry leaned in towards him.

'We've got them, Kingsley. We know who did it.'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 26 - Denouement

Harry pounded along the Ministry corridors, Hermione in his wake as they dashed towards the Wizengamot chamber in order to prevent Kingsley from announcing his decision. They were both carrying a number of documents and ledgers and these items were hindering their progress somewhat but this couldn't be helped - they needed what was within. It had been an eventful afternoon; they had gathered together the ledgers that he knew they would need before heading over to the flat in order to sift through some of the documents that they already possessed. He hadn't been kidding; he'd needed a quill and parchment in order to formulate and order the sudden idea that had flitted across his mind in the office at Gringotts.

Hermione had shown remarkable patience. She hadn't pressed him for information until he was ready and they had spent the afternoon jotting down ideas and suppositions. He'd found the scribbled notes that he'd written a few days before when Hermione was in the bath and - delighted - he was able to use this to explain to Hermione his sudden insight into the case. Of course, she had been able to add her own thoughts and ideas and between them they had finally managed to piece together the puzzle that had been tormenting them all week.

They now knew who was responsible.

He started to slow down when he neared the great double doors of the chamber and inwardly groaned when he realised that they had been slammed shut. His temper was not enhanced by the sight of John Dawlish and Blaise Zabini who were evidently standing guard.

Shit.

He halted in front of the two men and paused to catch his breath, waiting for Hermione to catch up. Once she arrived next to him he looked up and regarded the two men in front of him, letting the books he was carrying fall to the floor as he did so.

'What do you want, Potter?' sneered Dawlish and Harry had to resist the urge to hex him. Right now he needed to keep his head for it was vital that he gain entry to the chamber.

'I need to speak to the Minister,' he replied in as civil a tone as he could manage. 'I think he might want to hear what I have to say.'

'Impossible,' snapped Dawlish. 'The session has just this moment commenced. You know the rules; only members of the Wizengamot and invited spectators are allowed entry. Once the doors close, no one gets in.'

Harry contained his anger at the man's intransigence. 'Look, Dawlish; this is important. Kingsley needs to hear what I have to say. He will want to hear it.'

'He will have to wait until later to hear it, Potter. Now bugger off.'

Harry let out a deep sigh. 'Dawlish?'

'Yes?'

'You know how you and I have never really gotten on? How we always seem to be at loggerheads?'

'Yes? What of it?'

'Well, I always wondered about this. You see; generally I get on with people. But not with you; never with you.'

'So?'

'So I always wondered why. Now I finally know. Please accept my apologies.'

'Apologies? What for?'

'For this,' he replied before stepping forward and landing a crashing right hook to the side of Dawlish's head, knocking him flying into the great doors with an almighty crash. Before Dawlish had even reached the ground, Harry had his wand out and stunned his superior officer into oblivion.

'Ow! That bloody hurt!' he exclaimed as he nursed his right hand. He looked up to see the astonished expression on the face of Blaise who still hadn't reacted to the sudden attack. He was pleased to note, however, that Hermione had her wand levelled at the man's chest.

'Now it is up to you how this goes, Blaise. Either you open the bloody door or you join your pal here on the floor.' He leaned forward. 'I must speak to Kingsley. I have solved the Malfoy case. Now are you going to get in my way?'

Blaise backed up against the door and shook his head. He unsealed it and swung it open with a shaking hand.

'Thank you,' said Harry. 'Now make yourself useful and go and fetch Draco Malfoy from his cell. And once you have done that, pick up all this shit and carry it in for me,' he said, gesturing to the pile of documents on the floor. 'I'll need them for later,' he added as he made for the doors. He waited for Hermione to join him and both entered the chamber together.

He was immediately aware of the noise emanating from the packed benches around him and he felt a surge of amusement as he realised that he was making a habit of grand entrances these days. He glanced up to the head of the room and spotted Kingsley regarding him with a quizzical expression. He smiled at his friend and gave a slight nod of his head. Kingsley smiled and stepped down from the lectern before hastening to join him. Harry leaned in towards him.

'We've got them Kingsley. We know who did it,' he whispered. He saw the impact that his words had on his friend. Kingsley's eyes widened and a broad grin slowly spread across his face. 'Might I have the floor, Minister?' he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Kingsley nodded. 'You may, Mr Potter,' he replied. 'Give me a minute; I'll just tell everyone what's happening,' he added before hastening back to the lectern.

Harry knew that he was the centre of attention at that moment so turned to Hermione and gave her a small nod. She understood his gesture and casually stepped back from him in order to carry out the plan they had hastily formulated back at her flat. He was confident that no one would pay her much attention; that all eyes were on himself and Kingsley at that moment and it was with some relief that he saw her slip into the background unnoticed.

He scanned the chamber quickly taking careful note of who was present as he did so. His eyes swept over Tom Proudfoot but he did not acknowledge the man. He spotted Gawain Robards and Cornelius Fudge; Cheng-Jung Chang, Judge Matthias Swing and Cuthbert Mockridge. Looking up a bit he noticed both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and as he quickly scanned the public gallery he was pleased to notice a gaggle of reporters, Rita Skeeter among them, her Kwik Quotes Quill slashing furiously across a piece of parchment.

Good. He'd wanted as public a forum as he could get and the full chamber of the Wizengamot allied to the presence of the media had granted him his wish.

He heard a sudden commotion behind him and realised that Blaise had done as bidden for Draco Malfoy had entered the room, Blaise himself struggling behind with the pile of papers. He locked eyes with his former enemy and gave him a small nod. Surprisingly, Draco managed a thin smile before he looked away, turning his attention towards his mother and hastening to join her on the benches.

He turned away from him to face the head of the room as Kingsley's voice could be heard over the throng, his deep tones appealing for silence.

'Ladies and Gentlemen! Your attention please!' He waited until the noise had simmered down before continuing. 'I had intended making an important announcement in relation to the fate of Draco Malfoy but it appears that Mr Potter has news pertaining to the case that is of more significance than my own information. I thus respectfully yield the floor to Mr Potter who will, I am sure, be grateful for your silence and attention.'

Within an instant one could have heard a pin drop in the room. Harry tried to remain nonchalant as every eye in the chamber turned to wards him and he took a deep breath before speaking. He hadn't worked out what he was going to say and it was with some amusement that he realised he would have to improvise. He supposed it was his "unique" way of dealing with things. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a shout from the benches.

'I object most strongly to this Minister!' exclaimed a voice and Harry turned to the source and found himself gazing on the irate countenance of Gawain Robards. 'Mr Potter has no right to speak in this Chamber. He is not a member of the Council and should not be allowed to speak. This is not a courtroom, after all. And I also object to the presence of a suspected murderer,' he added, pointing directly at Draco.

Harry never replied immediately; instead he slowly approached his boss, the only sound in the chamber being that of his footsteps as he strode across the room.

'It was a courtroom once,' he said in a low growl. 'I was called before this "council" when I was fifteen on a charge of underage magic,' he continued, his voice steadily getting louder. 'I have spoken in this chamber before and I will do so again and no one has the right to gainsay me! No one!' he exclaimed, hammering his fist on the bench. He turned and swept his arm around the room 'I am the Soul Thief of Draco Malfoy and I am reporting my findings! At the moment he is a suspect; when I am finished that will no longer be the case. To interfere with me is to break the law! Does anyone dare challenge me in this?'

He had been making it up as he went along but noticed that not a sound could be heard in the room save for the furious scratching of quills from the public gallery. It occurred to him with amusement that his name could be useful at times. He was Harry Potter; the "boy-who-lived"; the "Chosen One" and the "destroyer of the Dark Lord" and his name still carried a lot of weight in this world. No one was going to call his bluff. He found himself struggling to contain a grin as he turned back to Kingsley.

'Thank you, Minister, for ceding me the floor,' he said formally and began to pace the room, deep in thought. After a few moments he finally stopped to address his audience.

'You all know what I have been doing this past week. You are all aware of the charges levelled against Draco Malfoy; of the heinous murder of Cho Chang. You will also know of the recent destruction of the escaped Deatheaters. What you will not know is that these two cases are related; that they are in fact one case - although I am prepared to admit that it is split into two halves.'

He turned and commenced his pacing once again. 'In order to fully understand what has occurred, to fully appreciate why Cho Chang was murdered; we must go back eleven months to the time of the death of Ron Weasley. As many of you will be aware, Cho worked for Gringotts managing the accounts of those within our community who prefer to deal with humans rather than Goblins. I am not here to pass judgement on such behaviour but it is worth noting that if the people responsible had deigned to allow a Goblin to manage their accounts then none of this would have happened. Goblins are renowned for their discretion and none of what I am about to reveal would ever have seen the light of day. It's quite ironic when you think about it,' he added, the amusement evident in his tone.

He stopped pacing once again and turned to face the benches. 'But Cho was not a Goblin and lacked their discretion. She discovered some…irregularities in some of the bank accounts and approached my friend, Ronald Weasley, with her concerns. I know this because of an entry in her diary that mentions a meeting with him. Ron now became privy to this knowledge and it ultimately cost him his life,' he added in a quiet voice. He had the audience eating out of the palm of his hand now; not a whisper could be heard. He paused for a moment and scanned the room seeking out those that looked worried. He noted with satisfaction that the people looking nervous were the one's he'd expected to be nervous.

'So what had Cho discovered?' he continued. 'What was so incriminating that it cost Ron his life? Well; I can now answer that. Cho had discovered various cash transfers in a number of the accounts she dealt with. In isolation, each transfer seemed innocent enough, but Cho was able to examine the bigger picture. She could see a pattern - a trail; one that led to the person responsible for breaking the Deatheaters out of Azkaban.'

An audible gasp could be heard from some of the members of the council but Harry ignored this. He turned once again to face Kingsley. 'This leads us to the second half of the case. The Minister here,' he said, gesturing towards Kingsley, 'always maintained that the escapees must have had help to break out of the prison. This lead was pursued vigorously but nothing came of it. I do not say this to condemn; I merely mention it because the investigators at the time were not aware of all the facts and as a result did not realise that no one was above suspicion. We know better now.'

He paused for a moment as he caught Hermione in the corner of his eye as she quietly made her way round the back of the room. So far, no one had paid her the slightest attention and he reminded himself that he must continue to speak in the singular. It was crucial that no one realise that she was here.

'Because I was willing to suspect everyone I was able to piece together what happened. The day before the breakout, the prison was visited by someone on official business. I believe that individual is responsible for aiding the escapees. Whether it was by slipping them a wand or some other such device is irrelevant. What isn't irrelevant is the identity of this individual.' He knew he was dragging this out but he had to wait until Hermione was in place. 'I looked again at the prison visitor log and cross checked the names with the bank accounts I had in my possession thanks to the courtesy and co-operation of Ragnok, the chief Goblin at Gringott's.'

He glanced to the back of the room and realised that Hermione had made it. He ploughed on, recommencing his pacing as he did so. 'Once I knew what to look for, the rest was easy. I discovered a substantial payment made to an individual on that list; a payment made for services rendered. It is sufficient proof to identify the culprit and that person will be extremely nervous right now. Isn't that right, Tom?' he asked, acid in his voice as he spun and pointed an accusing finger at his partner. The collective intake of breath from the watching gallery was almost enough to suck the air out of the room.

Tom Proudfoot struggled to contain the bile rising in his throat. He could taste the fear. He had been feeling quite secure as Harry had commenced his little speech, believing that there was no proof against him, but as his partner had elaborated on what he had discovered he had begun to feel more and more worried. When Harry had then mentioned the bank accounts and the Azkaban list he'd known that the game was up; that his double dealing had been uncovered. He had momentarily clung on to the belief that there was no proof of his involvement but he now realised that this was a forlorn hope. He didn't intend to go quietly though and had been considering his options when Harry had rounded on him in fury.

He reacted instinctively, reaching into his robes and pulling his wand out in a flash. He began to straighten his arm to take aim, was aware of people starting to duck for cover when he felt a sharp jab in the side of his neck.

'Don't even think about it,' hissed a voice and it took him a few seconds to realise that it was Hermione Granger who spoke and who had the tip of her wand pressed tightly against his neck. 'I've never killed anyone in my life but, so help me, I could easily start with you; you bastard. Drop it! Now!' she added as she pressed harder with her wand.

Tom Proudfoot was not a coward but he believed the words spoken to him; believed that she would cut him down if he did not obey. He sagged in defeat and let go of his wand and closed his eyes in despair as it clattered on the ground, the sound echoing through the chamber like a gunshot. He felt himself being thrust forwards into the centre of the room and when he looked up he was confronted by Harry who had a murderous look on his face.

For his part, Harry stood in a cold rage as he confronted the man responsible for so much death. He'd held out a faint hope that perhaps Tom was innocent; that maybe it was all coincidence, but the actions of the man in drawing his wand had confirmed his guilt. Now as he looked on him he realised that the pathetic creature was not even worthy of his contempt. He nodded to Hermione who immediately conjured some ropes and bound Tom tight.

'Well; that simplifies things a little, I think,' he said dryly. 'You all saw that!' he exclaimed as he turned to the room at large. 'You saw him reach for his wand!' He turned back to face Tom. 'I reckon we had enough proof anyway, but you've gave yourself away, Tom. Shall I tell the others what really happened?' he asked caustically. He did not wait for a reply.

'You were approached and asked to help. You were promised many things - not least a pile of cash. You went to Azkaban under some pretence - probably claiming to interview a suspect or something and when you were there you helped the Deatheaters to escape. So far, so simple. Who would suspect you, Tom?' He leaned forward so that his nose almost touched the traitor's. 'But then things got complicated, didn't they? You discovered what Ron was working on - I don't know how; either he confronted you or he told Robards who let slip to you but that doesn't matter. What matters is that you knew he was a threat so you contacted your new pals and everything was arranged; wasn't it? It was you who sent the anonymous note, you bastard. You knew where Ron and I used to go for lunch; it was so easy for you to time it so that we would be first on the scene. You also knew us both well enough to know that we would want to investigate ourselves!'

He realised that he was shouting and it was with an almost physical effort that he calmed himself. Tom said nothing and his silence was all Harry needed to know. 'The plan worked perfectly, didn't it? We walked right into it. The only failure was that you only managed to wound me. It was at that point that the decision was taken to let me live.'

'Why?' interrupted Kingsley who was looking at Tom as if he was about to attack him. 'Why did they let you live?'

'I'll get to that soon enough, Kingsley; don't worry. First we have to tell Mr Proudfoot's story. You see; Tom thought he was safe; thought he had eliminated the threat. What he didn't know was that the real danger was Cho, not Ron. Cho wasn't stupid; she knew why Ron had been killed and she must have been terrified. She lay low for months - eleven moths to be precise - but then she had the misfortune to take someone into her confidence at her father's party. Someone she thought she could trust, but that trust was sadly misplaced. That person was in on it too and recognised the danger. Cho never had an appointment that night; the note was sent to her after the threat was realised. Once she left her father's house she was as good as dead.'

'Who did she speak to?' asked Kingsley.

'I'll get to that in a minute. First we have to finish poor Cho's tale. Tom here was the killer; he was the man who did the deed. But then he had a problem. How did he dispose of such a high profile body? This was the daughter of one of our most influential families; her disappearance would be noticed immediately.' He turned and gestured to the Malfoys. 'So it was at this point that Draco entered our sorry tale.'

'Why Draco?' asked Kingsley.

'Two reasons,' replied Hermione, much to the surprise of everyone, save Harry. She became aware that the attention in the room had switched to her; that several members were regarding her with disdain and that even here her Muggle origins caused discomfort. She straightened her shoulders and squared her jaw. 'Two reasons,' she repeated. 'The first was revenge. Lucius Malfoy had been approached by the escapees and asked for help. He was told that it was the last chance he had to restore his family's honour after Narcissa lied to Voldemort the night he was destroyed. Lucius declined to help, thus leaving his family open to revenge attacks.'

'And the second reason?' asked Kingsley.

'That would be political,' she replied. 'Someone saw an opportunity to cause you grief, Minister. Someone knew that if Draco Malfoy were to be threatened with the Kiss then you would be in an untenable situation. Either you upset the conservatives or alienate the liberals; whatever you decided to do. This was a wedge that could be driven into the support for the equality bill that you had taken so long to construct. Regardless of what the outcome of Draco's trial was, you were bound to lose support.'

'The decision to frame Draco was taken in haste,' said Harry as he picked up the tale. 'Tom didn't have much time to act but either he or one of his associates came up with the idea of using an Elf. Using a personal elf was out of the question but a Ministry elf would do just as well. Tom summoned Modric and instructed him to plant Cho's body in Draco's apartment. Modric was told to make it look as if no one else had been in the room and to wipe the memory of Draco. Of course; the investigation didn't discover the presence of the memory charm. After all; when do we ever pay attention to House Elves?' he asked bitterly. 'We never even considered the possibility.' He gestured to Tom. 'This bastard then sent the anonymous tip off to Dawlish and the rest you know. Draco was caught with a dead woman in his bed and covered in her blood with no memory of what had happened. Quite a spot.'

'This all seems rather far-fetched,' interrupted Robards and Harry turned to his boss and regarded him piteously. 'I haven't even got to the real culprits yet,' he said disdainfully. 'Tom was just the leg-man; just a patsy if things went wrong. He wasn't the one calling the shots.'

'So who was? Asked Kingsley.

'Someone who stood to gain if you fell from office,' replied Hermione. 'Someone who knows how to mount a political attack and someone extremely well connected in our society. Someone who Cho Chang would trust owing to his relationship with her father,' she added.

'Who then?' asked Robards.

Harry turned to face one of the men responsible. 'Cornelius Fudge,' he replied quietly.

A stunned silence greeted these words as all eyes in the room turned to the ex-Minister. Fudge stood with an incredulous expression on his face for a moment. Then he began to laugh.

'Very good, Harry,' he said, clapping his hands ironically. 'Very good indeed. Quite a tale you have weaved. Quite a story you have concocted. Of course, it is arrant nonsense.'

'Is it?' asked Harry. 'I don't think it is. You see; we know what happened. We know what you have been doing.'

Fudge turned to address Kingsley. 'Minister, I see no benefit in allowing Mr Potter to continue with this nonsense. For too long have we indulged him. He is no longer a boy; he is a man now and must face the consequences of casting such scurrilous accusations. My record speaks for itself; I am known to all in this chamber. I have been working tirelessly for the Minister - and for your friend Miss Granger - and this is the thanks I get?' he looked around the room, clearly affronted. 'I am sure that no one takes these absurd accusations seriously. My record speaks for itself.'

Harry could hear a few murmurs of agreement at these words but knew how to deal with that. 'We do know your record, Cornelius,' he began, the contempt evident in his voice. 'We all know it well. "Cornelius Fudge; he always means well; always does his best and always tries to find the middle ground. An affable man is Cornelius. Wouldn't hurt a fly."' He looked grim as he said this in a sing song voice. 'But your record does speak for itself. Let us not forget that it was Cornelius Fudge who ordered that Barty Crouch Jnr be Kissed without a trial. That it was Cornelius Fudge who tried to get me to be his poster boy and who made my life hell. Cornelius Fudge who libelled me in the press for over a year; who tried to have me expelled from Hogwarts; who appointed a Headmistress who was willing to use Unforgivable Curses on students; who supported her discriminatory policies against non-humans. Oh yes; we know your record very well indeed, Cornelius.'

'Minister?' interjected Fudge. 'Mr Potter has clearly taken leave of his senses. This is obviously a personal attack for past…differences between us. I demand that he retract these accusations - or at the very least he provide proof,' he added smugly.

'Oh, I have proof; don't worry about that,' Harry cut in. 'You see; there were a number of aspects in this case that bothered me.' He began to pace again as he spoke. 'One of them was that Willie Widdershins had been roped in against his will to supply the escapees with what they needed. I couldn't work out why. I mean; why Willie? He's the worst bloody crook in the world. He makes Mundugus Fletcher look like a master criminal. Willie told me he had been recommended to them; that someone had given them his name. Then it occurred to me; he did a little job for you too once, didn't he? Or at least; he did a job for your stooge, Umbrage, spying on me and my friends. You did a little deal for him, didn't you? Had some pending charges against him dropped?'

'Is that the best you can do, Harry?' asked Fudge contemptuously.

'I haven't even started yet. You mention the work you have been doing for Kingsley and Hermione?'

'Yes! I have worked tirelessly on their behalf.'

'Worked?' scoffed Harry. 'You call attending dozens of social gatherings work? Oh, I have no doubt that you paid Hermione lip-service; that you convinced a few people to vote for change. But you were doing something else too, weren't you? You were taking the opportunity to network; to build support for yourself if Kingsley lost. If Kingsley were to fall then who would replace him? There are no obvious candidates - only Robards and I don't think people would accept a third Minister in a row from the Aurors. So that really only leaves you. Kingsley said it himself; you were a successful peacetime Minister and people would view you as a safe bet.'

'This is ridiculous!' exclaimed Fudge. 'I don't have to listen to this! I still haven't heard any proof.'

'I'm getting there,' replied Harry. 'But first we must deal with your accomplice, isn't that right, Cuthbert?' he asked, turning on Mockridge who looked as if he had been slapped. 'You were both in it together, weren't you? You hated - hated - the fact that a Muggle born woman had taken your job and was proving so much better at it than you. Fudge promised you your old job back, didn't he? Promised you to get rid of the "Mudblood? That's what Cho overheard at her father's party, isn't it? The two of you scheming away.' He turned back to Tom Proudfoot. 'No doubt a promotion was in the offing for you too? Head of the Auror Division if Fudge got in?' He did not wait for a reply.

Once again, a profound silence greeted these accusations and Harry had the feeling that he was beginning to convince his audience. He waited for a response but could see that Mockridge had been stunned into silence. He was not surprised when Fudge spoke once again.

'Minister! I insist that Mr Potter stop this immediately or I will be forced to call in my legal representatives.'

'Call them,' replied Harry. 'You're going to need them soon because I'm nearly done. Just a few loose ends to tie up' He looked down at his feet, deciding how to proceed. 'You realised that Cho had overheard you; knew that she was a threat so you ordered Tom to get rid of her. Draco was framed and then the Dementor's Kiss sought. Of course, this was sure to be granted because the Judge had been bought too. But none of this was your idea, was it? You're not the brains behind all of this; you could never come up with anything so clever.'

Fudge looked confused for a moment. 'So now you are saying I am not involved? Make up your mind, Potter,' he said derisively.

'Oh, you were involved. You stood to gain and went along with the whole thing. It was you who ordered Cho killed. But it wasn't your idea to frame Draco, was it?' He paused for a moment and approached Blaise before taking a handful of bank ledgers from him. 'You keep asking for proof? Well; here it is, Cornelius. This is what Cho discovered all those months ago. This is the knowledge that uncovered the conspiracy; the knowledge Ron Weasley died for.' He noted with satisfaction that Fudge had turned pale; that he was sweating profusely and that his bluster finally seemed to be at an end. He flipped open a ledger.

'This is yours, Cornelius. Quite a wealthy man, aren't you? You seem to have a generous benefactor; one who has made quite a number of payments to you. T.K.? And,' he continued as he flipped open another book, 'you too are well off, Cuthbert. And here we are; T.K. again - and again; and again,' he added, pointing to each incriminating entry as he spoke. 'I wish I had such a generous friend.' He opened a third book. 'Judge Swing received numerous payments from T.K over the years that coincide with some very high profile cases. This is how they could be sure that the Kiss would be sought for Draco, putting Kingsley in such a tight spot when they did so.' He came to the last ledger. 'And this is yours, Tom and this is the most revealing one of all. Payments from T.K. all over it like a rash but this one in particular caught my interest,' he said, pointing to a specific transaction. 'Three days before the Azkaban breakout twenty thousand Galleons were paid into your account by T.K. and then withdrawn by you immediately. A sizeable amount; enough I suspect to house and supply four escaped Deatheaters and have change to spare.' He closed the book with a snap. 'So the thousand Galleon question facing us was; who is T.K.?'

No one said a word at this revelation as each member of the chamber considered his words. What had seemed a fanciful story now had a look of plausibility about it. Harry strode back over to Blaise and handed him back the ledgers before turning to face Kingsley again.

'Throughout this case I have received one piece of advice from a number of people,' he said.

'What advice?' asked Kingsley.

Harry smiled at his friend. 'To follow the money,' he replied. 'Its good advice and particularly relevant in this case,' he added gesturing at the ledgers. 'But "follow the money" doesn't necessarily mean cash; it's just a simplified way of asking "who stands to gain?" Or in this instance, "Who is gaining?" There was one aspect that has been troubling me; one thing that I couldn't explain.'

Kingsley frowned as he considered this. 'What was that?'

'Why the decision was taken to let me live the day Ron was killed. I was a sitting duck and yet I was allowed to live. Dolohov told me that the decision was taken after I was wounded.' He smiled. 'It was Hermione who realised the significance of this - who decided? Because whoever did decide is the person really calling the shots.' He paused for a moment and pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from his pocket. 'I was looking at this earlier,' he said holding it up for all to see. 'It's the edition from the day after Cho was killed and it has a society article on her father's party. You see; I have been convinced for a while that the party was significant; that something happened there that caused all of this to happen; that Cho saw or heard something she shouldn't have. I was looking at the photograph - at Fudge and Mockridge and all the others - and I was convinced that the person responsible was present when it was taken. And then Hermione advised me to look at things from a different angle and it suddenly occurred to me; there are two ends to a photograph. Those being snapped and the person holding the camera. That's when it hit me. T.K.'

'So who is T.K?' asked Kingsley.

'The answer is in the article too,' began Harry as he began to write letters in the air with his wand. The onlookers watched in rapt attention as they began to form into shape. Finally a name could be discerned.

Teresa Kiter.

Laughter greeted this revelation but Harry had been expecting it.

'Teresa Kiter?' asked Robards once he had stopped laughing. 'The society columnist? I've never heard anything so ridiculous in my life.'

'Are you sure?' snapped Harry. 'Do you know Teresa? Have you spoken to her?'

Robards frowned. 'No, I suppose not. She keeps a low profile.'

'Of course she does,' replied Harry, 'because she is not everything she seems to be. She's an invention; she's a cover for someone else. She's a disguise.'

'So who is she?' asked Robards.

Harry didn't reply immediately. Instead he began to rearrange the letters. 'This is an old trick,' he said nonchalantly. 'There is a flaw in the character of certain people. They think they are cleverer than everyone else and that we won't work things out. But I've actually seen this particular trick before. Voldemort did it to me when I was twelve.'

He said nothing else but continued to rearrange the letters. After a few seconds, another name could be read.

Rita Skeeter.

The reaction to this revelation was predictable. People rose to their feet shouting and all eyes in the room turned to the bespectacled witch who sat impassively in the public gallery. Harry noted with amusement that her quill had stopped writing for once.

'Rita Skeeter?' asked Kingsley, incredulously.

'Yes,' he replied. 'Rita. Who stands to gain? Who would rather keep me alive? Rita.' He strode towards her and could not help but smile.

'You see, Rita had fallen on hard times. I don't mean financially; I mean professionally. The Quibbler had outstripped the Prophet for the first time in history. Rita's awards had dried up. I should have realised when I visited her office earlier this week. She had loads of awards from before Voldemort fell but none since Hermione, Ron and I refused to speak to her after the war. None until recently that is. I believe the article you wrote about the verdict in Ron's inquiry was the one that broke the barren spell, eh, Rita? "Potter Guilty of Gross Negligence?" You must have enjoyed that?'

Rita looked furious for a moment, the first emotion he had seen from her. 'I have nothing to say to you,' she replied.

'That's fine by me, Rita, but I suspect you will have to answer to others soon enough.' He paused for a few seconds. 'You couldn't handle it, could you? No longer the top dog; no longer important. No longer feared. All the good stories had dried up after Voldemort was killed, hadn't they? I was the only show in town and I wouldn't have anything to do with you. So you decided that reporting the news wasn't enough. You decided to create your own exclusives - make your own news. You arranged to have the Deatheaters broken out - you knew that was a winner. People panicking and desperate for news. Right up your street. Then Ron Weasley got wind of it and you decided to remove him. Of course; this was a big story too and there was even the chance of getting me as well. But when I was only injured it occurred to you that I was worth more to you alive. I'm the "Boy-Who-Lived". People will read about me taking a piss if they could. So you spared me and decided that destroying me would be more fun. Even when I left you got mileage out of wondering where I was.'

'Speculation,' Rita replied. 'Idle speculation.'

'Not at all. I know you, Rita. It was you Fudge went to when he realised Cho had learned too much. It was you who suggested using her murder to frame Draco. The trial of the century was all set up and ready to go. Then I re-entered the stage and sales of the Prophet went through the roof. You must have pissed yourself with excitement when I returned. You couldn't have foreseen that.'

'Don't flatter yourself,' replied Rita. 'You're not that important.'

Harry smiled at the remark. 'Then why go to all the trouble of following me around?' His tone hardened. 'Why go to the rouble of trying to assassinate Hermione? That would have made for great headlines, wouldn't it?' he asked angrily. He paused for a second to collect himself. 'You knew that Kingsley would be in trouble whatever he decided to do about the Dementor's Kiss when Draco was found guilty. It was a perfect opportunity - you couldn't miss. Kingsley would fall and you would campaign to get Fudge back in. The two of you had an understanding in the past, didn't you? Fudge would let you write what ever you wanted and would feed you stories. He'd even let you attack other species in print - just like you did to Hagrid all those years ago. You didn't want the equality bill to succeed, did you? I remember from your article that you hate the "half breeds".'

'Prove it,' Rita hissed.

'I have all the proof I need at Gringotts,' replied Harry. 'The Goblins have promised me full co-operation. The money trail leads right back to you, Rita.' This was in fact a bluff - he hadn't had time to check this out but he suspected that it was a shrewd thrust. His suspicions were confirmed when Rita deflated before his eyes.

'I made the mistake of looking for the person responsible,' Harry continued softly. 'It never occurred to me straight away that there might be more than one. Tom Proudfoot; Cuthbert Mockridge; Matthias Swing; Cornelius Fudge and you Rita. You all stood to gain in your own little way. I suppose I should congratulate you, ' he added.

'Congratulate me?' asked Rita, surprised.

'Yes; you have got what you wanted. You've just created the biggest media sensation since Voldemort died. Not quite what you hoped for, I'm sure, but a success nonetheless.' He turned away from her and looked directly at Kingsley. 'It's up to you boss. That's what we discovered. Is it enough?'

'Kingsley didn't respond immediately. He held Harry's gaze for a few moments before turning and looking at each of the conspirators in turn. 'It's more than enough,' he finally replied, his voice like doom. 'Take them away,' he ordered to Blaise and Mark. 'Get them out of my sight; I will deal with them later.'

Harry let out a sigh of relief and turned as he saw Hermione rush towards him. He smiled and was nearly knocked of his feet as she leapt into his arms. They stood for a long moment in a tight embrace, oblivious of the watching eyes.

'You did it!' she exclaimed into his ear.

'No; we did it,' he replied. 'I could never have done this on my own.'

She smiled at his reply and held his gaze for a few seconds before lowering her head and kissing him deeply - an overture that he responded to in kind. When they finally pulled apart he eyed her lovingly and felt a sudden relief as he realised that it was all over. He had avenged Ron; had cleared Draco and had saved Kingsley. But she had done so much more. She had saved him and for the first time he could remember, he looked to the future with optimism.

He was supposed to be the Soul Thief but it was Hermione who had reclaimed his soul.

***********

Two weeks later.

'…and we couldn't have done it without Hermione. She's worked round the clock to help steer the Bill through and she's the one who deserves all the credit…'

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand as he listened to Kingsley. They were celebrating the successful passing of the Equality Act and the mood in the room was one of laughter and joy. They were in Kingsley's house after he had insisted they attend the celebration and as he glanced around the table he felt a sense of contentment and peace.

It was an intimate gathering. Apart from himself and Hermione, only Arthur Weasley, and Susan Bones were in attendance.

And Ragnok.

It was a sign of better things to come that the Minister would invite the head of the Goblin's to such a social gathering but as Kingsley had explained he couldn't pass legislation and then ignore it completely himself. That would be hypocritical. Besides, he had added, he liked Ragnok.

Harry allowed his mind to wander over recent events as the conversation washed over him. The immediate aftermath of the Wizengamot session had been profound and even now the repercussions could be felt in the Magical world. Those responsible had been quickly removed from the room and imprisoned deep within the Ministry and Kingsley had acted swiftly to have trials arranged for them all. He wanted the proceedings to be as public as possible and was doing everything by the book although the outcome was viewed as a mere formality. Rita Skeeter's self incrimination should be enough to condemn them all.

Kingsley had also made sure the judge was above reproach and hadn't been bought - he didn't want another Swing on his hands.

Narcissa Malfoy had almost smothered first him and then Hermione with her embrace once it became evident that Draco had no involvement. All charges against him had been dropped immediately and he smiled when he recalled the reaction of the Malfoys. Lucius had remained aloof although his relief could be detected. Draco had muttered his awkward thanks and had offered his hand, which he had taken. They would never be friends but they had reached an understanding - they wouldn't be enemies either.

Narcissa, however, had been gushing in her thanks and it was amusing to see the normally icy facade dissolve into relief and joy. She had actually cried and had promised him anything he wanted as payment for his services. He didn't need the money so after getting an assurance that Dung would be covered in gold he'd made a small request of his own.

'Just vote in favour of the Bill; that's all I ask. And make sure your husband does too; and anyone else you think you can influence.'

Narcissa had cast a glance at Hermione and smiled knowingly.

'It will be done, Harry. And thank you. Thank you both, she'd added with a smile for Hermione.

It had been worth it just to see Hermione's face when Narcissa had made her pledge.

The Malfoy votes probably didn't count for much in the end as the Bill had passed with an overwhelming majority. It seemed that the members of the Wizengamot did not take too kindly to the attempt by Rita and Fudge to manipulate them and undermine Kingsley and had voted "yes" in large numbers. Hermione had been ecstatic but it seemed that this success was not enough. It amused him to note that even after such a success she was now working with Kingsley on proposals for political reform.

But that was not all she had being doing. They had been spending the past two weeks exploring their new relationship and he knew with certainty that she was all he would ever need in his life. He still had no idea what he wanted to do with himself; all he did know was that he would live wherever Hermione decided to go. She was perfect for him and he couldn't imagine life without her and as he looked on her now he wondered what the future held. A future with Hermione promised laughter and joy; arguments and reconciliations - not to mention plenty of mind-blowing sex, he thought with a smile. But above all, it promised love and contentment and somewhere in the world that he could finally call home. He had been searching for that harbour all his life and he knew that he had finally achieved it.

He glanced round as Kingsley loudly cleared his throat.

'As host of this little gathering, I should of course propose a toast,' he said as he began to stand with glass in hand. Everyone made to follow but as Harry stood Kingsley waved him back into his chair.

'For all of the excellent work done by Hermione, our project was nearly derailed by the actions of others. Were it not for Harry we might have lost everything. So, ladies and Gentlemen, please raise your glasses to the Soul Thief.'

'The Soul Thief,' chorused the others before clinking glasses and taking a drink.

Harry locked eyes with Hermione as she toasted him and took a sip of wine before bestowing a breathtaking smile on him. He knew that he couldn't have done anything without her; that he had been on a road to self-destruction until she pulled him back. That she had redeemed him - had reclaimed his soul. He lifted his own glass and raised it to her, aware that all eyes in the room were on him but knowing she would understand that his words were for her alone.

'To my Soul Thief.'

The End

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