Reading Time: 108 Minutes

Title: The Ending of the End
Series: If Only
Series Order: 2
Author: Aussiefan70
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Relationship(s): Gen. Main character pairings in epilogue only.
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence-Against Children
Author Note:
Beta: Geminiangel
Word Count: 106,361
Summary: Harry and his friends start second year, and mostly have decent professors who make learning fun (with the odd exception). Meanwhile, Harry’s family roots grow stronger and deeper, there’s a creature on the loose at Hogwarts (never fear, Harry has people for that), and Dumbledore has a bad day…all year. Then again, so does a certain dark lord, so at least the Old Goat isn’t alone in that.
Artist: Spuddoc

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Chapter 13

Classes resumed, and for the students, life largely went on as normal. There was always that vague sense, in the background, that someone had supposedly opened the Chamber of Secrets and students had been petrified, but it was usually subsumed by the busyness of day-to-day life for a Hogwarts student.

However, the group of Protectors, as Ragnok had labelled them, the parents and guardians of Harry and his friends, along with select staff members at the school, were not standing idle. Flitwick and McGonagall had gone over the Pensieve memories with a fine toothcomb and had identified each of the forty-nine students that had been sitting in carriage three. The ghosts had all been alerted to watch for suspicious behaviour amongst that group, but they were all largely stuck for any clues until something else happened, likely another petrification.

The Doohickey signals were checked frequently, but when alerted, they were in various areas of the castle, as if being carried in a bag with a student. Of concern though, was the fact that, every night, the signal disappeared before curfew. It seemed the student in question had found a way to access an unplottable area of the castle, and there was a good chance that it was Slytherin’s chamber.

But as for Harry and his friends, they continued on happily with their study group and clubs, the pick-up Quidditch games, and of course, their classes. They were still finding Professor Brissette to be an engaging instructor and enjoyed the innovative approaches they used in class. Neither Harry nor Neville was too upset about getting an Outstanding on their holiday assignments, thanks to the book they’d found in Adelaide, during their holiday.

~0~0~

The Hufflepuff/Slytherin game was scheduled for the first Saturday in May. Training had been at a fever pitch level, as both teams had had a lot on the line. However, Slytherin had lost both their games so far, in very closely fought circumstances, and desperately wanted at least one win on their record for the year.

As for Hufflepuff, they’d lost to Gryffindor in the March game, though had won against Ravenclaw in first term. So not only did they have to win against Slytherin, to remain in the running for the Cup, but they needed Ravenclaw to beat the Lions in the last game of the season. If that happened the Quidditch Cup would be decided on points this year.

The chances weren’t great, Gryffindor had won both of their games to date, but you never could tell what would happen on the day, and there had been games won in the first half hour alone, thanks to getting a lucky break chasing the Snitch.

Going into the game, Cedric had again offered to give Harry some air time. The younger boy was a bit nervous, despite flying against Gryffindor the previous term, because Slytherin tended to play a rougher, more physical game, and often had their Beaters target the opposing Seeker. Harry still had very vivid memories of being hit by a Bludger in the rematch/practice game with Ravenclaw before Christmas.

But in the end, he decided to brave getting on the broom and Cedric suggested he come in after half an hour if they hadn’t managed to capture the Snitch already, which seemed unlikely. In the end, though, Cedric pulled off a stupendous victory. He’d spotted the Snitch when the scores were tied at sixty points apiece, in a fast-moving, high-scoring game. It was at the twenty-nine-minute mark, and he’d been preparing to call a time out to switch with Harry when a glint of gold out of the corner of his eye had him setting off in a mad looping chase over the Hufflepuff stands and through their own goal hoops.

The Slytherin Seeker was no slouch either and it was a close-fought battle for the Snitch, but Cedric lucked out when it turned a few degrees in his direction, and he could finally snag it with his fingertips. Poor Slytherin was now stuck with no victories for the year, but if Ravenclaw could pull off a defeat over Gryffindor in the final game, the Badgers were still in with a chance. But that game was a long three weeks away, and Harry couldn’t wait to find out who would win the Cup, even as he resigned himself to wait.

~0~0~

Two days after the game, Harry was having another one of his Gururian lessons with Professor Uncle Filius, working on reading and writing exercises, as they had since midway through the second term. As always, the rule was to speak only in Gudurian during the lessons, so that was the language he used to alert Flitwick when he heard the Basilisk once again.

“Basiliskoa da berriro, eta hormetan edo hodietan egon behar du. Soinua itzaltzen da.”

(It’s the Basilisk again, and it must be in the walls or pipes. The sound is muffled.)

Switching to English and pulling his mirror-box out of his pocket, and restoring it to full size, Flitwick asked, “What’s it saying, Harry?” He paused for an answer.

“It’s hungry again, and wants food, and must kill to do it. It’s on the hunt I think, but it was heading downwards by the way the sound changed.” Harry had become quite adept at listening closely to the Parseltongue language, thanks to his interactions with Ophion.

Filius put a call through to Minerva, though by the fact she answered immediately, she’d been about to call him.

“Harry heard the Basilisk, Minerva. Though it sounded like it was in the walls or pipes, he thinks. My Doohickey alerted for up in this area. How about yours?”

“Ahh, well, I think we’ve solved a mystery. Mine alerted me too, but it was as I was walking to the infirmary to have a cup of tea with Poppy. It’s indicating a signal from down in this part of the castle.”

“Definitely two Horcruxes then, and one of them is the Basilisk. It makes sense. I suspect it was Riddle’s parting shot at Hogwarts and Albus, along with the curse on the Defence position. Thank goodness the Curse-Breaking team sorted that out once and for all,” Filius replied.

“I’ll put an alert out. If the Basilisk is still in the wall spaces, that’s all well and good, but we should get the students to safety before anything can change,” Minerva replied.

She mentally connected to the castle and drew on its magic, then cast a Sonorous that could be heard throughout the school.

“All students are to return to their dorms and remain until curfew. Stay in groups if possible and prefects are to take a headcount and alert their Head of House if any students are unaccounted for. This is not a drill. Return to your Houses immediately. Heads of House to my office please.” She ended the voice enhancement and looked towards Harry. “I’m afraid that includes you too, Mr Potter. But we promise to let you know what’s going on or have one of your parents do so. Filius, will you escort Mr Potter to his House and then return to my office immediately? Keep your mirror-box connected to mine, so you can hear what’s happening.”

“Very well, I shall do as ordered. Come along Harry, and don’t worry, you won’t be left in the dark for long, even if I have to come to the Badger’s Den later and fill you in myself.”

The remainder of the walk was in silence, as the pair listened to Professor McGonagall contact Harry’s parents, Amelia Bones, and Augusta Longbottom. Harry was very glad to hear that Ragnok had joined the call, as he knew the Buruzagi had been following the situation closely and was up on all the latest reports from the Horcrux team.

When he arrived back at the Hufflepuff entryway, he gave his uncle a quick hug, needing the reassurance, before passing through the barrels into the common room. Once inside, all anyone was talking about was the directive to shelter in their Houses, and there was speculation of a mass petrification, or that someone had been killed, and those were the least wild guesses.

Harry pulled Susan and Neville aside and directed them to follow him to one of the study nooks to the side of the room. It was about as private as it was going to get, and it gave Neville the chance to use the Australian silencing charm he’d presented in his DADA essay, to create a bubble of privacy.

He’d presented it as an offensive spell, as it could mask the sound of the spells being incanted, and would give an advantage as it would be harder for an enemy to block or repulse the spell. Harry had turned around and used it as his defensive spell, as it could be used to mask heavy breathing, if you were on the run and trying to escape an attacker.

Almost as soon as privacy spell was cast, Susan’s mirror-box signalled an incoming call, and she answered to find Luna’s face in the mirror.

A little puzzled, because Susan had expected Luna to call Harry directly given the first year was closer to Harry than anyone else in their group, she wasn’t too surprised a moment later.

“Hello Susan, I know Harry just arrived back at your House and wanted to let him catch his breath. But when he does, I think we all need to know what he heard tonight. The Matabaddles told me it’s important.”

That was the clearest sign the trio had ever had, that Luna had some seer qualities to her, not that it came as a shock at all.

“Hey Luna, wish you were here, and not stuck all the way up in Ravenclaw tower.” The look on Luna’s face suggested she felt the same way Harry did in that moment.

He continued, “So we all know about the Doohickeys. Well, there are actually two of them in the castle. Professor McGonagall has been trained to use them as well. Anyway, I was with Uncle Filius for my Gudurian lesson, and I heard the Basilisk again, but it was harder to hear, like it was within the walls, and moving away from us too.”

“Did anyone get petrified?” Neville asked in concern.

“Not that I know of,” his godbrother replied, “But he talked to McGonagall and it turns out their Doohickeys showed two signals, but in different parts of the castle at once. So…”

Susan completed the sentence, “There’s two Horcruxes here, and one has to be the Basilisk.”

“Yeah, that’s what the professors are thinking. They’re on a call with my parents, your aunt, Neville’s gran and Ragnok I think. And the Heads of the Houses were coming as well. They promised to let me know what they figured out when they can. So we have to wait like everyone else.”

“At least we know some of what’s going on, Harry,” Luna reassured her friend.

Neville spoke next, a little hesitantly, “We know that an innocent has to die to create these things. Does that mean Foldy killed twice, while he was still a student here?”

“It’s possible. I’d say the artefact was an early Horcrux if it’s linked to the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. Otherwise he knew a way into the castle and came back after he’d graduated, and made the Basilisk a Horcrux then too, but I’d say he’s killed twice here for sure. Hmm, wonder if any of them are ghosts? They might be able to tell us something.” Harry rather felt he was onto something there and needed to tell someone about his idea.

“Hang on a minute, I’m going to write that down and send the note to Uncle Filius, just in case no one’s thought of that. If he did create new ghosts, they might have some clues.”

While Harry sent his note, his friends waited patiently, not wanting to move the discussion on without him. But at that point, they were in the same boat as the other students, waiting for further news.

~0~0~

Meanwhile in Minerva’s office, whether in person or via mirror-box, they were preparing for a major planning session. Pomona had questioned whether Dumbledore would be joining them, but Minerva had to confess she had no clue where the Headmaster had gotten to.

He had indeed been ousted as Supreme Mugwump of the ICW when a recall vote was held just before school resumed. He’d been decidedly out of sorts since, taking most of his meals in his quarters, and disappearing from the castle, without notifying his Deputy, at all hours. Only the fact that Gringotts had re-strengthened the wards the previous year allowed her to know if he was even in the castle.

“He’s off to goodness knows where again, but that may not be a bad thing. It’ll let us have a shot at sorting things out, rather than waiting for Albus to decide he knows what’s best,” Minerva responded acerbically.

Quite a few of those listening snorted with half-repressed laughter at the cynicism clearly evident in her voice, while Augusta made a note to check on just how often Hogwarts’ Headmaster was absent from the castle these days. She was sure her fellow Governors would be interested to know that as well.

Filius noted the evil glint in Augusta’s eye and gulped; that was a witch you never wanted to get on the wrong side of. Severus’ thoughts were on a similar vein, and he wasn’t one to be easily intimidated, even on his worst day.

With every one of consequence present, in one form or another, Minerva called the meeting to order. She and Filius covered what Harry had heard, and the fact that it was now evident that there were two Horcruxes in play in the castle. They’d also received reports from all Houses that all of the students were accounted for, which brought a sigh of relief from across the room.

“Whoever brought the one in from outside is the one accessing the Chamber of Secrets and letting the Basilisk loose. Given Tom Riddle or Fold-a-dork’s obsession with Salazar Slytherin, it seems logical that the artefact is mostly being hidden in the Chamber, because it’s only appearing intermittently within the castle, and not for long enough to track it down,” explained Minerva.

“That seems a logical conclusion, but we’re still faced with where that access point may be,” Severus opined.

At that moment, Filius’ mirror-box vibrated, indicating he had an item to collect. Finding a hastily scrawled note, he opened it and read the contents, before passing it over to Minerva.

“Mr Potter has come up with an interesting proposal. He mentions, correctly I might add, that there must be two innocent deaths associated with these Horcruxes and that they either happened while Riddle was a student here or when he applied for the Defence position four years after graduating. He suggests we look into deaths or missing persons either here or in Hogsmeade during that period, and that we should also question any new ghosts that appeared around then. Perhaps one of them may have witnessed a clue as to how they died or witnessed something related to the opening of the Chamber.”

Minerva was rather impressed with the logic of this proposal and made a note to award twenty points to Hufflepuff for Harry’s contributions to solving the Horcrux problem.

“What clever thinking,” Filius exclaimed. “I know none of us, apart from Albus, were here at the time, and we hardly want to involve him in this. But wasn’t there a student who died when the petrifications happened fifty years ago? Does anyone recall the name? As for the second likely victim, any idea if there were other student deaths?”

Augusta, who’d been on the Board of Governors for many years, replied, “To my knowledge, there’s only been one student death, apart from the rare natural causes or cauldron explosion, in this century. Myrtle Warren was supposedly killed by one of Hagrid’s pet Acromantulas. Though how a bloody great spider caused the preceding petrifications, I’d like to know.”

The rare use of the mild epithet gave the others an idea of how ludicrous the older witch thought this to be.

Getting back on track, Augusta continued, “So our likely first victim was Myrtle Warren. Now as to the other victim, I remember hearing the story of a small child that wandered away from Hogsmeade, during a Hogsmeade weekend around that time. It was thought he might have ended up in the Forbidden Forest and lost his life there. The boy was only five or six, I believe. Of course, this was before my time, but my father was also a Governor for decades and he’d often share stories.”

“Well we know who our ghost is, I’m sure we’ve all encountered Moaning Myrtle around the second-floor girl’s bathroom. In fact, that’s where Filch’s cat and the first warning were found, opposite the bathroom. Myrtle had flooded all the way into the corridor again,” stated Pomona.

Minerva took charge then. “Filius, Pomona, would you please see if you can get anything out of Miss Warren, particularly any clues to the identity of this student, or where the Chamber opening might be? Please keep your mirror-box open for your safety, and so you don’t miss anything while we consider our next moves.”

As the two Heads left Minerva’s office, discussion moved on to how to contain a Basilisk that was also a Horcrux and any additional safety measures the school might take until the threat was contained.

~0~0~

The two old friends made their way swiftly to the second-floor bathroom, which was not very far from Minerva’s office. They’d both started teaching at Hogwarts at the same time and enjoyed their opportunities for a companionable chat whenever the opportunity arose, as they’d become great friends over the years. But they remained unusually silent as they walked, focused as they were on the ongoing discussion they’d had to leave behind.

Pomona entered the bathroom first, knowing Filius’ presence as a wizard would upset the ghost without warning her first.

“Miss Warren, are you here? We’d like to talk with you. I have Professor Flitwick with me, just so you know.”

There was a splash from the toilet stall furthest from the door, Myrtle’s usual location. Filius sidled into the room and stood beside Pomona so as to be able to hear properly.

The ghost of a teenage girl, with thick glasses and a mournful demeanour, emerged from over the top of the stall door, then floated towards the two professors.

“What do you want to talk about? It better not be about Olive Hornby, and her teasing me about my glasses.”

“No, actually, we needed to talk to you about how you died, if it’s not too distressing, dear.” Pomona had the grandmotherly routine down pat.

“Well, I’d been crying in here, because of Olive Hornby, like I said. And all of a sudden there was this noise, someone had come in. I was in my stall over there, so I couldn’t see who. But the noise was very strange and whoever it was wasn’t speaking English. The sound came from over there, by the sinks. It had to be a boy, by the voice, so I came out of my stall to give him what for, for being in a girls’ bathroom. And all I could see were these huge yellow eyes, and then there was this floaty feeling, and well…I died!”

Myrtle finished the recitation exuberantly as if she’d been waiting decades for someone to ask for her story.

While Pomona tried to extract any additional details, Filius went over to the sinks and checked them thoroughly, testing each tap, and looking for hidden nooks and crannies.

There were only two findings of note. The sink directly opposite Myrtle’s stall didn’t work, and Myrtle indicated it never had. The second, and perhaps more critical piece, was the rough etching of a small snake on the copper pipes below the sink. It seemed clear to the Ravenclaw Head that this served as a marker of some sort.

Filius used his mirror-box to show the rest of the group what he’d found. Minerva requested that he ask Myrtle if the language the boy had spoken sounded like someone hissing, and she agreed that was what she’d heard.

At Minerva’s prompting, Filius asked Myrtle if she’d heard anyone speaking like that recently, crossing his fingers that this was the only access point to the Chamber.

“Oh yes, since the start of the year. It’s a girl I think, but she always races out when I appear. Seems very unfriendly, don’t you know?”

Moments later, Minerva arrived in the bathroom, carrying her own mirror-box, and with Severus close behind. Fortunately, this was a good-sized bathroom, so they weren’t too crowded.

Severus examined the sink in question and cast a few diagnostic spells, trying to determine if there were any means of accessing its secrets short of using Parseltongue, but with no results.

“Perhaps we could ask Mr Potter to try to open it. He’s becoming increasingly adept with Parseltongue, now he’s interacting regularly with Ophion.”

A voice rang out from the boxes in Filius and Minerva’s hands, “Over my dead body,” Soraya shouted.

Ringstar wasn’t much more circumspect, though only Filius knew what her response had been because her temper had her using Gudurian to speak her mind, though the fact she made a duelling champion cringe said it all.

Firelock was forced to be the voice of reason, much as he wanted to run the Potions Master through for even thinking of such a thing, let alone saying it.

“Perhaps we might contact Garreth Lloyd, at the dragon reserve? He’s also a Speaker, and reasonably comfortable with Parseltongue from what he’s told me. Not to mention being used to handling large and deadly creatures on a daily basis.”

“That sounds like the perfect solution,” Minerva replied. “I’m sure, given the chance, Albus would be itching to throw Mr Potter into this challenge. Let’s keep this entirely quiet until we can get Mr Lloyd here, and explore the problem further.”

“What will you tell Albus and the students? This second lockdown must be the talk of the common rooms,” Pomona asked, a little anxious that they all get their stories in order.

“I shall simply say that I saw the tail end of an unidentified creature heading around the corner at the far end of the corridor by my rooms, where the lighting is dim, as I exited my office. Out of an abundance of caution, and to prevent further petrifications, I ordered the lockdown.” Minerva smiled smugly at her colleagues.

“Ten points to Gryffindor for thinking on your feet, Minerva,” Filius announced, offering a short, courtly bow.

The consensus was that it was a plausible statement and would stand up to anything short of Legilimency, which as Minerva tartly responded, “If anyone thinks I’ll look that old goat in the eye, you’ve gone daft!”

The chuckles heard from across Britain, courtesy of the mirror-boxes, showed how much they appreciated the Gryffindor Head’s rapier wit.

“Well, at least we can pare down the list of students from carriage three by eliminating the boys now. I’ll have the updated watch list out to everyone later this evening.” Minerva sighed, “I suppose we should go and calm down our Houses. I will send an owl to Mr Lloyd and we can make further plans from there. Hopefully, he will be available this week. Thank you, Myrtle, for your assistance. Would you mind keeping everything you’ve heard a secret? We’re trying to prevent other children from suffering your fate.”

Myrtle fluttered importantly, assuring Professor McGonagall she’d say nothing to anyone.

Nodding her thanks, Minerva surprised her colleagues with a moment of levity, “I think we should hold all our staff meetings here from now on. The company is delightful and we have the necessary conveniences for when Albus runs on and on, and we’ve had too much tea. I shall send out a memo, I think.”

Minerva swept regally out of the bathroom, suppressing a smirk at having gotten the last word. The other three professors followed moments later, mentally applauding the fine exit.

~0~0~

There were no more signs of the Basilisk in the week that followed, and the Doohickeys didn’t alert either. This suggested to the professors that whoever had brought the one into the castle had hidden it in the Chamber and was either leaving it alone or going into the Chamber to utilise the artefact.

Garreth Lloyd had been delayed by an incident where two adolescent dragons had gone from playing to fighting and had both sustained extensive injuries. But the pair were on the mend, and he finally arrived the following Monday, the 10th of May, a week after the last ‘sighting’, and had been able to force the sink to slide away with a simple Open command.

On spotting the slide down, and having no guaranteed means of return to the bathroom after descending, he put a password protection spell in Dragon Speak on the sink, in essence immobilising it unless the key phrase was used. In honour of Harry, he used Ildryth likes Harry Potter.

There were a considerable number of mirror-box meetings from that point on. It was decided that they’d need to put a team together from the Department of Magical Creatures, the DMLE, Garreth Lloyd, and surprisingly, Ragnok offered, in addition to the Horcrux team full of Curse and Ward-Breakers, a cohort of his best Azealia (Defenders).

Guduriak-made steel knives and swords were the weapons of choice when dealing with the most deadly of magical creatures, so he also agreed to kit out the entire team with appropriate weapons, at no cost to the school or Ministry. Ragnok considered Harry to practically be a grandson and would stop at nothing to protect the boy and his friends, despite long traditions of conflict with the wizarding world. Amelia and Garreth were just happy for the additional, and incredibly fierce, backup.

Having the time now (with the Chamber access locked off) to get all their ducks in a row, Minerva suggested that the considerably enlarged team should access the Chamber on Saturday, the 22nd of May, during the final Quidditch game of the season. With such a close Cup race, there would be almost universal attendance at the match, and she was happy to decree that those not in attendance must be in either the library or the infirmary. Madam Pince and Poppy could easily oversee the doors to both areas, and that should be sufficient to keep the students safe.

Now having set a firm date for the Chamber assault, so to speak, Amelia, Ragnok and Garreth arranged for a practice session with the combined teams. The DMLE had a secret off-site training location, unknown to most at the Ministry, so Monday the 17th would be a training day for all concerned. That would allow them four extra days until the 22nd, to be used to sort out any glitches or fix any errors.

With a comprehensive plan in place, all that was left was to hope nobody else got petrified (or worse) in the meantime. Oh and notify the Headmaster of what had been planned without him. Sadly Minerva got stuck with that rather odious task.

She bearded the lion in his den so to speak, after breakfast the next morning. Minerva was free the first period but had her seventh years in the second period, which would at least limit the duration of the discussion. Not that she planned on permitting much argument.

Minerva never revealed exactly what went on in that meeting, or how she forced Dumbledore’s hand to make him accept the plans that had been made behind his back. Most of the team and the other Heads rather thought they’d have liked to be a fly on the wall that morning, but none were stupid enough to try to force the story out of her.

She was heard by Nearly-Headless Nick, as she stomped back to her classroom, to mutter, “That old goat is losing his mind…leave a Basilisk loose in the castle when we could take care of it properly! I’ve a good mind to take care of HIM properly…I wonder if Ragnok would lend me a sword?”

But Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington was a gentleman, and a gentleman never tells.

~0~0~

Reassured that their adults had things under control (it was much easier to lump them all under one title as the group kept growing), Harry and Co were enjoying their classes, though growing more aware that exams were only a month away, so they redoubled their efforts in the study group.

But he and Neville were still enjoying their various clubs (the Duelling club had continued, but without Dumbledore’s interference), pick-up Quidditch games and just spending time with their friends. Since Luna had started at Hogwarts, the Hufflepuff trio with Susan, had become a solid foursome, and it was rare for the group to be seen apart when they were not in class.

Harry had known, based on a conversation earlier in the year, that Luna’s birthday was sometime in late May, but he’d been unable to get his rather fey friend to admit what day her birthday was. Resorting to guile and straight-out bribery, he broke out a bag of Fruchocs from his Australian stash. The little balls of dried apricots and peaches, rolled in chocolate, were a huge favourite of his uncle, so he took a bag with him to his Gudurian lesson.

Dangling the bag from his fingertips, Harry began, “So Professor Uncle Filius, I know Luna has a birthday coming up, but she keeps dodging the question as to when it is. Any chance her Head of House might know such a thing?” Harry tried for a conniving grin but couldn’t quite pull it off.

“I must remind Firelock to work on your negotiating strategies. You should never reveal everything you have to offer at the beginning, you know.” Filius responded, deliberately not answering the question.

“But perhaps there’s more of these where they came from?” Harry was trying to play shrewd negotiator but was overplaying his hand.

Filius had no problem reminding him, “But now you’ve revealed just how badly you want that information, which puts me in a much stronger position,” he finished, with a rather evil grin.

Harry threw up his hands in the air, knowing he’d been outplayed. “Argh, okay, take the Fruchocs. Just please, have pity on your poor nephew who knows he’s been beaten.”

“Well thank you, don’t mind if I do. By the way, I’d have told you her birthday was the 29th if you’d just asked, you know.”

Harry slumped into a seat, thoroughly defeated and now short a bag of his favourite chocolates. Filius took pity on the boy and opened the bag for them both to enjoy during their lesson and then, as they finished, said, “I’ve contacted Buruzagi Willfleet’s assistant and arranged for regular shipments of Fruchocs via the Enklabe network. I think I can be persuaded to part with a couple of bags a month if you keep up your lessons next year. How does that sound, Harry?”

The next second Filius found himself with an armful of hugging twelve-year-old, as Harry clearly expressed what he thought of the plan. All Filius could do was smile and hug Harry back. It took so little effort to make this child happy, and he was thrilled to be considered part of the family.

~0~0~

There was someone in the castle who was much less thrilled than Filius and Harry at that moment. Albus Dumbledore was feeling completely side-lined and betrayed within his own school. It had been a terrible year so far. He’d lost the Chief Warlock position over the summer thanks to Harry Potter’s adoption hearing and had walked out of there with a restraining order as well. What thanks was that for all he’d done for the boy and his fellow Wizengamot members?

Then he’d been called to task with the ICW over the debacle with the Sirius Black case. It boggled his mind that others couldn’t understand the pressures of the times, or that it had served the Greater Good. And then they’d gone and voted him out of the Supreme Mugwump position over such a petty thing.

And now his own staff were revolting, taking steps to manage the Basilisk situation on their own, and worse protecting Harry Potter from the experiences that would temper him over time and prepare him for the ultimate showdown with a returned Voldemort.

Dumbledore had known fifty years ago that Hagrid hadn’t been responsible for Myrtle Warren’s death. He knew that Acromantula couldn’t petrify and it was obvious that’s what had happened just before her death. The only creature that made sense was a Basilisk, and he’d already been suspicious of Tom and his ambitions. But he’d gone along with Headmaster Dippet and the attacks had stopped, and so he’d kept quiet.

And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t looked for access to the Chamber of Secrets since; think of the acclaim if he had discovered it. But alas he did not speak Parseltongue, and he was hardly going to approach Mr Riddle and share the glory.

But now he faced ruin. He had little doubt that if the plan came off, he had a good chance of being ousted from his position. Then again, he mused, if they promoted Minerva to Headmistress, they’d need a Transfiguration teacher again, and that was his specialty. And it would give him access to Harry during class. Perhaps it would be worth the loss of prestige, to be able to groom and guide the boy towards his destiny.

For Albus Dumbledore was very aware of the Horcruxes. He’d picked up on the darkest magic in Harry’s scar the night his parents had been killed, and he was convinced the prophecy meant Harry would have to die, in order to ensure Voldemort could be killed.

Horace Slughorn, the former Slytherin head and Potions professor during Riddle’s time had, in his cups, let loose the secret that Tom had made multiple Horcruxes over the years. That’s why he’d been leaving the castle so often, he’d been in search of them, but to no avail.

In his heart of hearts, and for the Greater Good, he knew his place was to be the final destroyer of Voldemort, once he returned. All he needed to do was gather the soul fragments and sacrifice Harry to the evil Lord when he regained a mortal form. It was a sad duty, but there was no other way. If Harry lived, that Horcrux would turn him dark someday in the future. No, the boy had to die, much as he regretted it of course.

But his plans had been thwarted left, right and centre, and so it was a frustrated Headmaster that paced in his tower in Hogwarts castle. If only he could find a solution.

~0~0~

Minerva walked around the castle for the next week and a half keeping her fingers metaphorically crossed that the Dragon Speak password would do the trick to keep the possessed student out of the Chamber of Secrets. In that entire time, there were no alerts on either of the Doohickeys, so that was a decent indicator that Garreth Lloyd’s strategy had worked.

They’d also looked over the list of female students who’d been in carriage three on the train ride back for third term, but out of the forty-nine students, twenty-eight of them had been girls, from all four Houses, ranging from first through sixth year. In the meantime, all they could do was keep an eye out for someone acting out of character, particularly now the Chamber access had been blocked.

All of the Heads of Houses, along with Madam Pomfrey were in the know, and Madam Hooch had been brought into the group as well. As one who’d fought in the last war, she was quick with her wand and could keep an eye out for a student who might be leaving the castle to work out her frustrations, given the flight instructor taught all her classes outdoors.

That reminded the Deputy Headmistress, once this was all sorted and the school year was done, she wanted to look at the end-of-year grades for the second-year students. She was anxious to compare those who’d taken the new elective, an additional year of Flying classes, with those who’d chosen not to. Minerva had lived a fairly active childhood, coming as she did from a home in the northern part of Scotland, where keeping moving kept you warm. And her Muggle father strongly believed in his children getting out of the house to play and taking bracing walks with the whole family.

She’d argued for many years that the students needed more physical outlets than climbing endless stairs and that much of the House animosity could be worked out over a playing field, rather than with wands in the corridors. But her words had always fallen on deaf ears with Albus, and it would be nice to be proven right if the flight class students showed better results.

Turning from the corridor into her office, Minerva made a beeline to her desk, to make a notation on her calendar to make the review a priority. She was angling to offer flying and other physical education classes at least through OWL levels, and maybe one day she’d be able to make that happen.

~0~0~

While the rest of the school was settling into a level of complacency hardly seen all year, given that the petrifications seemed to be a thing of the past this term, Harry and his friends knew better.

The only ones fully in the know were Neville, Susan and Luna, though most of the other second years in their group had an inkling that something was afoot. But as Harry reassured them, there were responsible adults in charge, and they had a good plan, so much of the anxiety levels had tapered off. And with exams only a few weeks away, there were too many other things to be worried about, and that became the priority.

The friends were now meeting most evenings in the study room, and it was a busy place, even on the weekends. The more involved projects in the various clubs had been completed by this point, and the meetings had largely devolved into social gatherings and impromptu study sessions, with a side of planning for next year as well.

So in the midst of all these distractions, it was ridiculously easy for Harry to pull a few friends aside to plan a birthday party for Luna. The younger girl was a good fit intellectually with the House in Ravenclaw, but socially it was a less inviting place for the girl who marched to the beat of a different drama.

There had been some attempts at bullying earlier in the year; stealing things from Luna’s trunk, calling her Loony, and so forth. Harry had put a stop to that as soon as he had found out. He didn’t just have weekly Gudurian lessons with his uncle; Harry wasn’t above using their time together to report any concerns to the Head of Ravenclaw House.

Filius, who’d endured his own bullying as a Hogwarts student, thanks to his stature and mixed heritage, could not abide the practice and happily stomped it out the moment he was aware of any issues. So things were much more settled in the House of the Eagles, and Luna appeared blithely unaware of the reason for the changes, though Harry was under no illusions that his sharp-witted friend hadn’t put two and two together.

In the same vein, while Harry was colluding with Susan, Neville, Kay (whose parents were supplying the birthday cake), and Ernie and Justin (whose parents were sending Muggle decorations as a novelty for the magically raised birthday girl), he was under no illusions that Luna wasn’t entirely aware of their plotting. Though he also knew, without a doubt, that she’d make a good show of things on the day of the party because she always hated to hurt anyone’s feelings.

They’d planned the event for after dinner on the 29th, to be held in the study room, and invitations were owled to Professors Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall as well, inviting the trio to at least join them for cake. All three had sent back notes accepting the invitation.

Amongst the staff, the rumour was that the slightly more unbending than in previous years Professor Snape had muttered words of thanks that none of his Snakes had been roped into joining the study group, thus sparing him having to attend a first year’s birthday party. The great amusement amongst his colleagues came from the fact that such an occasion, in previous years, would have been accompanied by a vociferous denouncement of such inanities, followed by the Potions Master sweeping out of the room in a huff.

They didn’t dare use the word mellowing within anything close to Severus’ hearing range, but it was whispered by the braver teachers when they knew the man was safely ensconced in his dungeon quarters.

Filius was especially amused because the dour Slytherin Head had quietly slipped him five Galleons, as a contribution to the gift Filius had planned to present to Luna, on behalf of all the invited Heads of House. He raised a mental eyebrow, Severus was mellowing indeed. Or perhaps melting was the more correct term, though some days it might seem to be at little more than a glacial rate.

Chapter 14

The practice session at the DMLE training session went well on the 17th, in Amelia and Ragnok’s estimation, though Garreth Lloyd thought the Department of Magical Creatures (High-Risk Creature Branch) needed to spend more training time in their field, as they had a tendency to hesitate when pressured to act in tight situations.

He was pleased to note the Curse and Ward-Breakers from the Horcrux team Ragnok had put together seemed more on the ball when it came to handling dangerous scenarios. But he guessed raiding booby-trapped tombs might just do that to you.

By the end of the training day, they had most of the bugs ironed out, though it had taken a bit to get everyone comfortable using the swords and daggers provided by the Guduriak team. After all, most witches and wizards relied solely on their wands, which Ragnok thought was rather a short-sighted approach. Though when word inevitably got out later, the Buruzagi suspected there’d be quite an uptick in profits if they were routinely outfitting Auror departments around the wizarding world, which upset him not in the least.

The consensus post training day was that, while there were certainly quite a few unknowns with the operation given it had not been safe to conduct reconnaissance further than the access point in the bathroom, they had sufficient numbers, particularly with the addition of the Guduriak, that they should be able to prevail. They were also hoping that their actions would precipitate the possessed student to act, so they’d be able to get her any necessary Healing or Mind Healing once it was all over.

The plan was thus: one team member would enter the access point on a broom and check out the means of descent, all the while with a monitoring charm to ensure they’d be able to mount a rescue if the Auror got into trouble. In fact, all those heading into the Chamber would carry shrunken brooms, which would expand with a single command, wand in hand or not, as a means of escaping from the Basilisk by taking to the air if needed. The brooms were also a simple option for them to return to Myrtle’s bathroom once the operation was completed.

Once it was established the coast was clear, a small squad of Aurors and Guduriak warriors would descend, either by slide or broom and establish a secure perimeter for Garreth Lloyd, the Gringotts Horcrux team, the Magical Creatures team; the remaining Aurors and warriors would bring up the rear.

They would proceed cautiously towards or into the Chamber, depending on what they found when they landed, with a pair of reconnaissance flyers leading the way. Most wizarding protections tended to forget airborne attacks, so it was felt this was the safest approach.

The Doohickeys would be monitored by two members of the Horcrux team, and they would be actively scrying throughout, trying to pick up the signal for both the artefact and the snake, though the hope was to secure the artefact first, so as to make sure nothing was missed later. The other Horcruxes retrieved previously would be held on standby at Gringotts, to be brought to the Chamber of Secrets at a moment’s notice via the Floo connection in McGonagall’s office.

It was hoped that an unplottable location like the Chamber might have sufficient protections in place to ensure the safe destruction of all of the soul fragments. If not, then one of the played-out mining areas deep below Gringotts would serve quite well.

The team honestly preferred to avoid the hassle of removing a large Basilisk from the castle and transporting it to the deepest underground mines at Gringotts, given it would likely frighten the socks off anyone who inadvertently witnessed its passage.

At the present time, the Horcrux team was not one hundred percent sure what would eliminate the Horcrux from the various items. They’d attempted to transfer the soul shard from several of the Founders’ objects but to no avail. Ragnok had eventually stopped all work on that aspect of the project, for fear of either a cataclysmic explosion or the possession of his entire Horcrux team.

So the prevailing wisdom was that the Basilisk might be killed by a Killing curse, but for absolute certainty, Fiendfyre would destroy anything in its path. Of the Ministry team members assigned, only Kingsley Shacklebolt and Gawain Robards of the Aurors, and one member of the Magical Creatures squad, were capable of casting the magical fire that could so easily turn and immolate the caster.

Perhaps not surprising, given he worked with fire-breathing dragons, Garreth Lloyd was also adept with casting the spell, as was Senior Curse Breaker Giles Huntley. His partner on the team, Darksteel, and each of the warriors was scarily comfortable with a Guduriak variation of the spell, and it had the wizarding members of the operation glad they were all fighting on the same side.

Now they only had to wait until Saturday to execute the plans.

~0~0~

Thursday evening, Miss Myrtle (formerly Moaning Myrtle, who’d lost her forlorn disposition since she’d become quite the centre of attention), left the confines of her toilet stall, to go find Professor McGonagall. It was almost unprecedented for her to be seen anywhere but her bathroom, or (occasionally) under the Black Lake or in the Prefects’ Bathroom, but she’d done a complete one-eighty since they’d located the Chamber entrance and she’d been able to tell her story.

Passing through the wall of Minerva’s office, Myrtle startled the Transfiguration professor as she was marking essays.

“My goodness, Miss Warren, it’s lovely to see you out and about, but I’m sure you’re not just here to pay a social call. How may I help you?”

Myrtle replied, her voice conveying her sense of urgency, “One of your girls is in my bathroom, beating her hands on the sink and making strange hissing noises like that lovely Mr Lloyd made. She’s crying something terrible, so I came to find you.”

“Oh well done, Miss Warren, thank you for letting me know. I’ll follow you then.” Which she mostly did, though Minerva did have to open the door to exit the office, not having the capacity to simply pass through walls.

Minerva arrived at the bathroom in the nick of time, as a near hysterical Ginny Weasley raced out the door unseeing, and ploughed into her Head of House.

Looking up, she cringed at the imposing professor and struggled to escape, but Minerva was having none of that, and pulled the girl into a hug that was simultaneously gentle and restraining.

“Miss Warren, if I may impose further? Would you mind going to Madam Pomfrey and asking her to join us here, then do the same with Professor Flitwick? Make sure he brings his mirror-box with him; he’ll know what you mean.”

Myrtle nodded enthusiastically then set off at high speed through the walls towards the infirmary, and once her message was delivered, headed to Flitwick’s office high up in the west tower.

While awaiting the arrival of her colleagues, Minerva maintained her grasp on the still struggling and sobbing red-headed first year, though in truth, it was becoming easier to do so as Ginny Weasley exhausted herself with her emotional outburst. She gently shepherded the girl back into the bathroom, away from any potentially prying eyes in the corridor, and transfigured a rubbish bin into a low settee, all the while muttering soothing nonsensical words.

Poppy arrived only a few minutes later, mediwitch bag in hand, as she didn’t know what she’d be facing when she had received Myrtle’s summons.

“A Calming Draught would be in order, I believe, Poppy. With your agreement of course.” The experienced mediwitch could get a bit prickly when her professional toes were stepped on.

Poppy scanned the young girl with her wand, casting a diagnostic spell in mere seconds. Nodding in agreement with Minerva’s suggestion, she wordlessly passed over a phial of the potion. Minerva encouraged Ginny to relax back into the sofa a little more, and then had her swallow the draught.

The effects were quite rapid, as is often the case with medical potions, and by the time Filius arrived a couple of minutes later, a little short-winded from running down from his office, Ginny had stopped sobbing and was breathing much more normally.

“Now my dear, tell us what has you so distressed, Miss Weasley.” Minerva was leaving things open-ended, inviting the girl to take them into her confidence.

Ginny shook her head initially, not wanting to answer, but looking at the adults ranged around her, she realised that there was no judgement on their faces and only compassion.

“I’ve lost something important. I put it into a safe place, but now I can’t get it back, and Tom will be so mad at me!”

“Who is Tom, Miss Weasley? And why would he be mad at you?” Filius asked in a soft, neutral tone.

“He’s this boy who talks to me through my diary. He’s been very kind to me all year. I was so homesick, and I’m not a girly girl like the rest of my dorm, so I don’t fit in there too well. And Ron and the twins are too busy doing their thing to spend time with me, and Percy just keeps acting like a prat, and telling me I need to study more.” The girl paused her litany to catch her breath, then plunged back in.

“And Mum wants me to become friends with Harry Potter and keeps telling me to try harder. She keeps saying maybe he’ll want to marry me someday, but Harry doesn’t hardly know who I am and doesn’t seem interested in getting to know me. But Mum keeps going on about it in her letters.”

Minerva and Filius shared glances; they both suspected the hand of Albus Dumbledore in that little campaign.

“So you needed someone to talk to then? It sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate,” Minerva encouraged, leading the girl to continue to tell her story.

“Uh-huh. See I found this diary in with my school books when we got back from shopping in Diagon Alley over the summer, and I just figured that Mum got it for me as a special treat, because we can’t afford those too often. I guess she must have forgotten to mention it because she was distracted when Dad punched Mr Malfoy when he was rude to my family.”

That had both Filius and Minerva raising an eyebrow. It was no great surprise Mr Lucius ‘I was Imperiused’ Malfoy, had a hand in this. Poppy was a little confused, realising she was missing key parts of the story, but comfortable staying silent, knowing she’d get an explanation later.

“I was so surprised the first time the diary wrote back to me, but Tom was so sweet and understanding. He didn’t even freak out when I told him I was missing bits of time. Though I nearly went crazy the time I woke up and there was blood and feathers all over my robe in the middle of the night. I almost came to speak to you, Professor McGonagall, but Tom said if I’d hurt anyone or any creatures, I’d probably be expelled. So I didn’t dare.” At this Ginny began to cry again, letting go of some of the pent-up fear of the last months.

“Don’t worry, child. You won’t be expelled, I can assure you of that. I suspect young Tom wasn’t exactly telling you the truth, so that you’d keep talking to him,” Filius explained.

That had Ginny drooping her head and nodding a little. “Dad has always said we shouldn’t talk to something that shouldn’t be able to talk back to us. I guess I forgot that.”

Minerva beckoned Poppy closer. “I suspect there may have been influences created by that diary, that ensured you forgot his good advice. Might Madam Pomfrey check you over a little more thoroughly? I’m sure we can keep talking while she does that.”

Ginny nodded, and continued, “Anyway, I kept seeing this weird house-elf hanging around my dorm, though I don’t think the other girls could, and Tom said he was sure that the elf was trying to steal the diary away from me. So he taught me how to hiss just right to get the sink to slide out and open that doorway. And he taught me how to ask the castle to turn the slide into stairs too. Then he showed me a place partway down that has a hidden niche where I could safely leave the diary, and he said it would be okay to come visit and talk with him there. Except now I can’t get in. The sink command isn’t working any more, and Tom’s going to be so mad when I don’t go talk to him.” At that, the young girl ran out of steam, exhausted by stress and emotions.

By this time, Poppy had finished her examination, though she gave a wordless look to Filius and Minerva that clearly said we won’t talk about this right here.

Filius asked perhaps the most critical question, half a second before Minerva could. In his still gentle tone, “Miss Weasley, did Tom ever appear to you, perhaps looking a little like a ghost? You said he taught you how to hiss those commands.”

“Just in the last few weeks, since the beginning of the month. He’s not as silver as a ghost, you can see him in colour, but he’s sort of faded out. At first, he was small enough to stand on the diary if I set it down flat, but he’s been getting bigger since, and he’s about Percy’s size now.”

“Once last question and then we’ll get you to the infirmary so you can have a good night’s sleep. Did you ever go further down the stairs than the niche and explore what was at the bottom?” Minerva inquired.

Ginny shook her head. “No, we just talked on the stairs.” She paused to think for a moment. “Are you sure I’m not in trouble?” And then let out a huge yawn, the adrenaline finally wearing off.

“Not at all, Miss Weasley. Now let’s get you headed to the infirmary with Madam Pomfrey. Would you like us to contact your parents? It’s not like you’re actually injured, so we have a little discretion in the matter. We could see how you feel by the end of the weekend, and talk about it some more sometime on Sunday. But it’s whatever you need.”

Inwardly, Minerva hoped that the child would ask to wait, knowing that in thirty-six hours, the situation would hopefully be resolved. The last thing they needed was Albus sticking his nose into the operation. But she wouldn’t deny the girl her parents if needed. Though she’d probably swear Arthur Weasley to secrecy and pray that he could keep Molly under control.

Ginny considered, then shook her head again. “I’d like to get some rest first. With all that missing time, I think I lost a lot of sleep. Maybe I can talk to Mum and Dad on Sunday. Hopefully, I’ll feel more myself by then.”

Poppy chimed in then, “I’ll be keeping you overnight and probably through ’til Saturday morning at least. You’re exhausted, I can tell. It won’t hurt you to miss just one day of classes. You’ll study much better if you get properly rested. And maybe spoiled just a little as well,” she finished with a kind smile.

“That sounds kind of good. But what’ll we tell my brothers? They’re going to be bugging us like crazy if I spend two nights in the Hospital Wing.”

“Looks to me like you have a nasty dose of wizarding flu, Miss Weasley, and we hardly need an epidemic this close to exams. I think you’ll need a day or two in quarantine for the safety of the entire school, don’t you?” Poppy had rather a cheeky grin on her face as she spoke that time.

“Hmm, it does feel like I have the flu. Whatever you think I need to do, Madam Pomfrey. You’re the boss.”. Ginny’s response had a touch of cheek as well, as she followed the mediwitch out of the door.

Minerva just smiled, she had a feeling that with a little help, the youngest Weasley would bounce back just fine.

Thanking Myrtle one more time, Filius and Minerva retreated to the Deputy Headmistress’ office, immediately pulling out a mirror-box and pulling Ragnok, Amelia and Garreth Lloyd into a call. Minerva summarised the last hour with the Gryffindor first year then asked the key question.

“Do you want us to retrieve the diary now? I’m sure Garreth can deliver the password through this mirror, and we could go get it.”

Ragnok responded first. “A Horcrux that can manifest as a sentient and talking version of a young Tom Riddle, and that can obviously possess a young girl? Right now I hardly want my best-trained curse breakers anywhere near that thing. And last I heard, you two weren’t in my employ. Amelia, unless there is a pressing legal reason to act tonight, I say we leave that diary exactly where it is until Saturday morning when the Quidditch match starts as planned. We don’t need to unleash that thing in a school full of children.”

Amelia replied, “You’ll have no arguments from me on this. Garreth’s protections are holding up well, as tonight has shown us. Saturday will come soon enough. And if by chance Albus gets wind of things, he’ll have me to face if he interferes, and I think he’s just a tiny bit scared of me these days.”

Garreth Lloyd, who’d been following the newspapers closely, responded, “Fy annwyl (my dear), I have no doubt about that at all.”

Minerva and Filius had contemplative looks on their faces at the term of endearment, while Ragnok outright smirked, but no one dared say a word. After all, one was the Head of the DMLE, while the other had close to a hundred dragons at his command. Discretion was definitely the better form of valour in this case.

“Very well then,” Amelia declared, “We’ll see you all Saturday morning as planned. Get some rest tonight and tomorrow, it’s sure to be a busy day.”

There were murmurs of good night from the assembled group, then the mirror-box went dark.

Minerva simply looked at Filius and asked, “Think we need to start another betting pool?”

Filius dissolved into helpless laughter at the question, unable to speak. He just reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of Galleons, all while nodding an enthusiastic yes.

~0~0~

Two days later, as probably ninety percent of the Hogwarts students streamed down to the Quidditch pitch, Madam Pomfrey was free to join them, thanks to having a patient-free infirmary. She preferred to be on the side lines during games anyway; it tended to prevent young witches and wizards from thinking they had the capacity to play Healer, instead of calling for her.

Madam Pince had the remaining students well in hand, and the castle had been very obliging regarding the staff’s desire to keep students safe, temporarily walling off each end of the corridor leading to this library. This allowed access to a pair of bathrooms, and a previously unused classroom had been turned into a refreshment station, with low tables and comfortable seating. The house-elves had set up drinks, snacks and sandwiches, which would be refilled all morning, and lunch would be delivered as well if things went on that long.

At the moment, the students were all hard at work at their tables and in the book stacks, so no one had noticed the changes or became alarmed at potentially being trapped. However, Madam Pince was prepared for what might happen, and had a good number of Calming Draughts on hand, just in case.

Professor McGonagall had announced at breakfast that a team from Gringotts would be in the castle that morning to deal with an urgent warding issue that needed to be addressed, hence the order to sequester those who chose to stay in the castle during the game.

Those down at the Quidditch pitch would remain there until the all clear was given, with the house-elves primed to supply an outdoor lunch if it became necessary.

The students weren’t particularly worried by all the precautions. Word had gotten around after the Headmaster was put on probation by the Board of Governors at the end of the previous year. It was also now well known that the Deputy Headmistress was in control of the castle wards. No one in their right mind would think that Professor McGonagall would lock the castle down unless the situation demanded it. That level of trust went a long way to keeping the students calm.

Minerva had also ensured that all the house-elves were safely ensconced in the kitchen, behind beefed-up Elf and Guduriak wards. So now every one of the castle inhabitants was as protected as it was possible for them to be, with a single exception, but that was under control thanks to a certain school Governor named Augusta Longbottom.

Somehow, in the world’s greatest coincidence, Headmaster Dumbledore would be meeting with the Board of Governors for most of the day, as part of his probation oversight. They would be going back through some of Dumbledore’s more dubious decisions, including dropping quite a few key subjects from the curriculum, and inadequate staffing levels. Not to mention fostering increased inter-House enmity by excessively scheduling Gryffindors and Slytherins in class together. and then not cracking down on the serious bullying, vicious spell casting, and hate speech that often followed.

He was not looking forward to the experience when he departed the castle for a meeting room in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, immediately after breakfast.

~0~0~

The Chamber team, as they called themselves now, were entering the castle secretly, via McGonagall’s Floo in her office, then staging in her Transfiguration classroom next door. Minerva was thinking it was going to be a tight fit to get everyone in, until she heard cries of surprise from the adjoining room, and poked her head through the door.

Suddenly the Transfiguration room was easily twice its normal size, with additional bench seating for the entire team. A tea and coffee station appeared as she stood there, likely courtesy of the house-elves, along with a table of light snacks similar to what had been delivered to the room across from the library. Hogwarts and her elves were taking care of business.

The Guduriak warriors arrived, accompanied by Ragnok in full dragonhide armour, and with a Horcrux team that was itching to explore the Chamber. The Buruzagi made a beeline for the ridiculously oversized coffee urn, and cast a wordless spell to double the size of his coffee cup, then filled it to the brim before coming to stand beside Minerva. She chuckled as Ragnok took a hefty swig of the boiling hot, strong coffee and didn’t even flinch.

Right about the time Madam Hooch blew the whistle to start the final game of the season and the Cup decider, Amelia and the Auror team arrived from the Ministry, with Garreth Lloyd only a minute or two behind them. The Magical Creatures team finally Floo’ed in five minutes later, and everyone was in place.

Brooms were distributed to those that hadn’t brought their own and shrunk to be carried on their person, while Amelia did a head count. In all, twenty-eight team members, plus Amelia and Garreth, were ready to go, with Minerva and Ragnok to stay in the bathroom to monitor the Doohickeys, and send out alerts or provide further assistance as needed.

In truth, the pair was too critical to keeping everything together, to put at risk before the Basilisk was contained. Neither liked that designation, but it was hard to argue. If she was being honest, Amelia was probably the same, but someone from the DMLE had to oversee the culmination of nearly two years of hard work, and the destruction, once and for all, of the remnants of Tom Riddle’s soul.

Filius had greatly desired to be part of the team, but with his Eagles playing today, and Minerva needed inside the castle, he’d accepted that he needed to be in the stands, supporting Ravenclaw. Hagrid was standing in for Minerva, considering himself always to be a Gryffindor despite his unwarranted expulsion in third year. Minerva and Filius were hopeful that one outcome of today’s operation would be to clear Hagrid’s name and restore his wand rights once more.

Minerva shook her head; this was not the time for wool-gathering. Amelia cleared her throat and asked if everyone was ready and if there were any concerns still to be addressed. After getting a determined round of yeses to the first question, and the sound denials to the second, she led everyone out of the Transfiguration classroom towards Myrtle’s bathroom.

Myrtle giggled with delight at seeing all these new people who’d come to visit her. She watched on with interest, as Garreth used Dragon Speak to unward the sink, then switched to Parseltongue to make the sink slide out to open the Chamber access. Thanks to their talk with Ginny, he gave the command ‘Stairs‘, and the ramp transformed to a long winding spiral staircase disappearing into the inky depths. Garreth suspected the slide aspect was for the Basilisk’s benefit, to slither up from the Chamber into the school.

The flyers went in first, casting strong Lumos spells to be able to see where they were going. Within minutes, an amplified voice could be heard floating up from the gaping depths.

“It’s easier to fly than walk down. That’s easily ten flights of stairs. We located the niche for the diary but left it for you Curse-Breakers. It’s in the wall on your right, one flight directly below the entrance. We’ll see you when you join us.”

The team members, in their prearranged order, took flight, each in turn. The procession halted long enough for Giles Huntley and Darksteel to safely retrieve the diary, using steel tongs and wearing dragonhide gloves, then dropping it into a securely warded lead-lined box. Giving a shout that they were done, the pair continued their descent and the rest of the team soon followed.

At the bottom of the slide/stairs, there was a sludgy mess, littered with the bones of small creatures that crunched underfoot, as the group gathered and reshrunk their brooms. A wide tunnel stretched ahead until it curved to the left in the distance. With a low arched ceiling, it was reminiscent of Norman architecture in the time before humans had mastered the stronger, taller and pointier, Gothic Arch.

Led by the Aurors and the Guduriak warriors, the team proceeded cautiously along the corridor, following its bends and turns. They walked for more than five minutes under floating balls of light conjured by their Guduriak team-mates before a couple of the Aurors startled…loudly.

Everyone had been keeping their wands at the ready, those that used them, that is. But in an instant, they were all pointed in the direction of the alarmed cry. Then a member of the Magical Creatures squad moved forward. What had caught the Aurors’ attention was an enormous shed skin of a Basilisk. In the dim light, it looked like a slumbering snake that could wake any minute and attack.

Darksteel cast a saddened glance at the skin as they moved past. If it could have been retrieved when it was just shed and still supple, it would have made fine armour rivalling the dragon hide one that he wore. But now it was worthless and he mourned the waste. He kept going though, no sense in getting caught up in what might have been.

The tunnel finally ended in a solid wall, which had a carving of two twisting and twining serpents with enormous inlaid emeralds for eyes. Garreth Lloyd pushed forward through the crowd; he’d be needed to pass this obstacle.

Using the same tactic as he had for the sink, Garreth hissed “Open“, and the wall split in two as if cleaved down the middle, with the pieces disappeared into the stone walls to either side of him. He stepped back, not being designated to lead the fighters into the Chamber, and they waited for the command to move in.

Per their training, it was the Aurors and the Guduriak warriors that moved guardedly forward into the Chamber. It was a vast space, with pillars placed at regular intervals to hold up the ceiling that was so far above the team, it couldn’t be seen in the smoky light from the dim (and probably ancient) torches that lined the rough-hewn stone walls.

Carvings of snakes coiled around many of the columns, and seemed to follow the group with their eyes. Nobody was sufficiently inclined to break ranks to move closer and see if that was true. At the far end of the Chamber, a stone statue of a wizard as tall as the Chamber, with a beard down to his knees, came into view, but the enormous space was devoid of much else, including a Basilisk.

Even when they brought more light to the room, casting maximum strength Lumos spells that essentially acted as floodlights and lit up the place as if on the sunniest of days, all they discovered were some carved words on the wall opposite the statue.

The words were written in Old English, or Anglo-Saxon, but Darksteel had made a study of old languages and was able to translate the words:

“MAY YOU FIND SHELTER IN THIS PLACE WHEN THE WORLD OUTSIDE BECOMES TOO DANGEROUS, AND YOU FEAR FOR YOUR LIFE. MAY THIS CHAMBER PROVIDE SANCTUARY TO ALL WHO COME IN PEACE, NO MATTER YOUR NAME OR YOUR STANDING. LET US CALL EACH OTHER FRIEND, BROTHER AND SISTER, A FAMILY UNITED BY MAGIC, NEVER TO BE TORN ASUNDER.”

“It appears to be signed by all four of the Hogwarts Founders,” he said in conclusion.

As he finished speaking the translation, magically the words rearranged themselves to the modern English translation the Curse-Breaker had spoken out loud. It was obvious the Founders had intended the message to update as language evolved.

“Well that’s going to turn some prejudices on their heads in the wizarding world,” Amelia commented wryly, looking around at those in the group who’d attended Hogwarts, and were standing with befuddled look on their faces. A few looked shocked; this thoroughly upended their worldview of Salazar Slytherin, who tended to be reviled as a blood purist who’d left the castle because of conflicts over the issue of who should be admitted to Hogwarts.

“This is a bolt-hole,” one of the Aurors exclaimed. “A place of refuge from the Muggle world if the school was ever attacked. It has to be. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Aye, my lad,” Garreth Lloyd responded. “That’s how I read it too. And it’s obvious that all four Founders knew of it. Each of those signatures was carved by a different wand. It might have been built at Salazar’s behest, but it was not created by his hand alone.”

In addition to having Dragon Speak abilities, Garreth could sometimes ‘see’ magical signatures on objects and in places. The thick layer of magic that coated every surface in the room was rich with those signatures, and the four strongest were those of the Founders, matching the carvings on the wall.

Amelia interrupted everyone’s musing. “As fascinating as that is, and thank you Mr Lloyd for your insights, we still have a Basilisk to capture and Horcruxes to destroy. Any ideas for where the Basilisk might be?”

“Perhaps it’s outside of the castle, hunting for food?” one of the Magical Creatures squad members suggested.

“That’s possible, I suppose, and someone remind me later that we need to check thoroughly for that entry point. It puts the entire school at risk if it’s not sufficiently warded,” Giles Huntley responded.

“But Harry made the comment that every time he heard the Basilisk, it was hungry and looking for food in the castle,” reminded Garreth. “Were the bodies of the dead roosters ever found?” Amelia shook her head, no.

“Then my suspicion is that the snake is being held somewhere in this Chamber, likely hidden in a camouflaged side room, in some form of stasis, only woken when a Parselmouth triggers the awakening and the snake’s release. It was probably meant to be an added safety feature installed by Slytherin. It was likely he never conceived of a time when Parseltongue would almost disappear from the wizarding world. Let me try something. ”

With that, Garreth approached each wall in turn, casting a wordless Alohomora unlocking spell, while hissing Open in Parseltongue at the same time. He was approaching the far wall, the one that held the statue, when he heard the sounds of a scuffle behind him and turned to see what was happening.

It seemed that one of the Magical Creatures team members had become tired of the methodical approach, and had grabbed the bag with the lead- box containing the diary. He had swiftly opened the box and pulled out the diary, crying “The blasted diary can tell us how to find the Basilisk! Why are we messing around down here?”

The minute he opened the journal, a full-size teenage boy in Hogwarts robes stepped off the page.

“Oh my, this is quite the crowd. And all here in the great Salazar Slytherin’s Chamber. How has this come to pass? Did that silly little girl tell you that she’d been talking with me?”

“Tom Riddle, I presume?” Amelia asked, with no hint of fear or anxiety in her voice.

He inclined his head, indicating she’d come to the correct conclusion. “You may also call me Lord Voldemort if you wish. It sounds much so much better than that Mudblood name my mother granted me.” He almost spat the word mother; it was evident he held Merope Gaunt in contempt.

Riddle glanced around, apparently seeking someone. His appearance wasn’t yet fully corporeal; he was surrounded by an odd misty light that dulled out his appearance.

“So where is Harry Potter? It is fated we meet you know. And I set this all up to put him to the test, the second that the bleating Weasley girl revealed he spoke Parseltongue. I wish to know how he defeated me, the night I came after him, to fulfil the prophecy.”

Not seeing the boy, Riddle’s face took on an angry bent. His plans were being thwarted it seems.

“How did you get in here?” he practically screamed. “Only a Parselmouth can open this Chamber. I must have transferred that talent to the boy when I tried to kill him.”

Garreth stepped forward then, shaking his head in bemusement, tinged with a touch of derision. “I’m afraid you’re wrong there, boyo.”

His use of the overly familiar term was deliberate on the Welshman’s part, knowing it would keep the Horcrux wrong-footed.

“Ever heard of Dragon Speakers, boyo? We can also talk to their rather junior cousins, the serpents. It’s a rather basic dialect, but we get by, Harry and me. Seems he’s a natural-born Dragon Speaker as well. I’m guessing you can only speak to the snakes, hey? It’s a lesser skill in my mind, but I suppose you can’t help what you’re born with.”

Garreth had been signalling behind his back for the team to be ready at a moment’s notice, as he spoke. Amelia had picked up on the cues and was surreptitiously passing the word, realising the dragon keeper’s strategy.

“Lesser skill. You think me lesser than you?!? How about I show you what I think of your so-called superior abilities,” the incensed shade of Riddle spat out contemptuously, then switched to Parseltongue.

“Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four,” he proclaimed, facing the statue on the far wall.

Garreth snorted derisively, “I’m guessing you changed the password the last time you were actually here in person, didn’t you, boyo? Bet the old one wasn’t nearly pretentious enough for you.”

“Shut up, shut up!” the image screamed in return, not able to cope with the open disrespect. “We’ll see how you deal with that!” He pointed to the statue where the blunt head of an enormous serpent had just become visible.

“Wands ready, into the air everyone!” Amelia commanded. She knew the large snake could rear up quite high, but it moved fastest on the ground, and would only rise up to strike. If they stayed out of strike range in the air, they all should come out of this in one piece.

“No, no! I will not have this!” Riddle was incandescent with anger, both at the team’s disrespect and how they’d out-thought him, but also because he’d expected them to fear him when they learned he was Lord Voldemort. The whole scenario was the complete opposite of what he’d planned.

At that moment, he let the rage loose and commanded the Basilisk, “Kill them, kill them all!” And the Basilisk slithered entirely out of the statue, to hunt for a meal.

Amelia countered with, “Put your goggles on!” Every team member donned the wrap-around protective goggles with hyper-reflective lenses that had been sitting disillusioned on the top of their heads.

They had been specially designed by the Department of Mysteries (DOM), after it had been realised that a reflective surface could deflect the deadly stare of a Basilisk, limiting the snake to petrification only. A Muggle-raised boffin in the DOM had brought in her pair of skiing goggles, and the team of researchers had gotten down to the business of amplifying the degree of reflection, hopefully to a level that would actually deflect the impact of the Basilisk’s gaze. Unfortunately, they were doing the trial run with an actual Basilisk, under combat conditions, while airborne. Everyone was hoping the eye protection worked, of course they did nothing to counter the effect of the venom glinting from the immense fangs in the enormous mouth.

The Basilisk was easily sixty feet long, Garreth assessed from his vantage point on high. Wanting to eliminate the impact of the eyes, just in case the goggles were insufficient, he cast a modified cutting curse, one that was used to break through dragonhide, one of the toughest known materials.

They used it to render the dragons that died of natural causes at the Reserve into useful and valuable components. He’d initially hated the disrespect that showed to his beloved dragons, but Ildryth had gotten through to him with words he’d never forget. “The soul of a dragon departs when the body dies, my son. And you can use that body to keep the rest of the souls in my thunder safe, well-fed, and healthy. Use the body as you need, with our blessing and our thanks.”

Returning from his momentary distraction, Garreth directed the cutting curse directly across the eyes of the Basilisk, instantly blinding the creature. He hated to cause anything pain, but this snake’s true nature had been thoroughly corrupted by a boy still in his teens, fifty years ago. He instinctively knew there was no coming back for the Basilisk.

The serpent swung its head wildly, both from the pain and the sudden blindness. The Chamber team pulled up on their brooms, almost brushing the ceiling, to ensure they were out of the reach of the fangs of the enraged, crazed creature.

Riddle, however, was screaming at the Basilisk. “Kill them! Kill them! You can scent them…go and kill them!”

The Basilisk cast about trying to determine where it could find its prey, and not understanding how the prey had gone from the ground to the sky as it had.

At Amelia’s signal (she was done with the mad rantings of a teenage wannabe dark lord), Kingsley Shacklebolt pointed his wand at the snake’s head and shouted, “Avada Kedavra“, the Unforgivable curse that she’d authorised every team member to use against the Basilisk.

A bolt of green shot out, hitting the snake directly between its destroyed eyes. Kingsley’s aim had been true. In an instant, the Basilisk collapsed to the floor, dead as a doornail. An unholy scream was heard from the serpent, joined seconds later by one from the diary. In the snake’s collapse, one of the fangs had pierced the diary, causing the shade of Tom Riddle to disappear, as it screamed a last “Nooooooo!”

Chapter 15

Amelia and the Aurors had seen this phenomenon the year before, as dark smoky impressions of Voldemort arose from both the newly dead Basilisk and the diary that had been pierced by the snake’s highly venomous fang. But unlike the wraith, these ghostly smudges didn’t escape or dissipate, they just huddled together in apparent befuddlement.

The DMLE Head realised that these barely held-together wraiths had nowhere to go, and before they could figure out whether to try to possess another person, Amelia called for the strongest shield charm that could be cast. This was where the Guduriak showed their talents and magical strength, simultaneously chanting in Gudurian and producing a bubble shield so strong that it created a corporeal, physical sphere, almost akin to the bulletproof glass known to those familiar with the Muggle world.

The threat safely contained, the team returned to solid ground and reshrunk their brooms. Amelia set the Curse-Breakers, Ward-Breakers, Warriors and Aurors to examine the Chamber, to determine if it would be safe to cast Fiendfyre in the vast room and destroy all seven Horcruxes. Fifteen minutes later, the consensus was that the warding of the Chamber would easily contain the magical fire that liked to take on a life of its own.

One of the Magical Creatures team members was sent back on her broom to alert McGonagall and Ragnok that it was over, and request the other five Horcruxes be brought from Gringotts to the Chamber, via Minerva’s Floo connection.

Meanwhile, Amelia and Robards had examined the wizard that had grabbed the diary and rashly let the shade of Tom Riddle loose. After checking to ensure the man hadn’t been Imperiused, Amelia had immobilised and silenced the idiot, then had two of the Aurors take him back up into the school (they levitated the immobilised man as they flew up the spiral staircase), and from there, to the holding cells at the Ministry. She suspected his issue was poor impulse control, rather than an overt play to set Riddle loose, but he was the least of her concerns at this time.

A short while later, Minerva McGonagall and Ragnok arrived by broom into the Chamber, accompanied by Firelock levitating a lead-lined chest containing the remaining Horcruxes beside his broom. He’d requested to be the one to bring them, needing to see the dangerous threat against his son being destroyed. He handed the chest over to Darksteel, who set it beside the Basilisk’s head.

Ragnok stepped over to Garreth’s side, and they contemplated the snake carcass together.

“Think of the armour we could make with those scales, and the gold we could make selling the venom,” Ragnok commented. After all, the Buruzagi was ever the businessman.

“Tis true that it’s a shame to destroy it and not make use of such a magnificent creature, but I think we’re both happier taking no chances of even a minute piece of Voldemort surviving this day,” the Dragon Speaker replies.

“Agreed. It’s a good day to erase that stain on magic. We’ve done great work today.” Garreth nodded in approbation at Ragnok’s words.

The contemplative moment was broken by Amelia’s call to gather around. It was time to put Riddle and Voldemort to rest.

“Alright, having seen what we’ve seen today, who feels they have the ability to cast a sufficiently hot Fiendfyre to match the strength of that shield our friends here cast? Because I suspect it will take similar strength to ensure all seven Horcruxes are destroyed at once.”

Amelia had no problem openly talking about the hated creations; she’d put each team member, with the exception of the Guduriak members under a Fidelius to keep the affair under wraps. Ragnok had ensured comparable protection amongst his own people; the last thing they needed was for word to get out. Amelia was certain they’d have a bunch of curious witches or wizards attempting to make a Horcrux themselves if that ever happened.

Darksteel spoke up then, “If I may suggest, in myself, Ragnok, and Firelock here, you have the three magically strongest members of our clan. We can cast the Guduriak version of Fiendfyre as if chained together to work the spell. It will be triply strong, and the rest of our warriors could help add their magic once they drop that shield, to ensure that everything is totally destroyed.” Ragnok and Firelock stepped up beside the curse breaker, affirming his words.

“I agree with your plans. Alright then, everybody else, stage yourself right by the doors. If anything goes wrong, get out of the Chamber immediately and prepare to seal the doors. How close do you three need to be, to cast the spell? We don’t want to race off and leave you behind.”

Ragnok replied, “We’ll be able to control it from midway down the room. Once the warriors drop the shield, they must retreat to the door area as well.”

There were murmurs of dissatisfaction at his words. It went against the grain to leave their Buruzagi exposed to danger like that. But Ragnok was having none of that, so he reiterated his orders and moved on with the planning.

As the rest of the group moved back towards the exit, the trio conferred for a minute or two. Dagger-shaped shards of obsidian appeared in each Guduriak’s hand, the stones used to amplify and direct the strength of the spell.

The Gudurian version of the Fiendfyre spell was incanted as Su Demonio, and would be cast on the count of three, to be called out by Darksteel. On the two count, the warriors were instructed to drop the shield.

Prepared at last, as the rest of the team watched from a distance, Darksteel, Firelock and Ragnok turned to face the Horcruxes that were laid out around the Basilisk’s head, including the crystal containing the one removed from Harry’s scar.

Taking a deep breath, then releasing it, Darksteel began the count, the three Guduriak pointing their obsidian daggers at the Horcrux collection.

“Bat! (One!),” rang out confidently.

“Bi! (Two!).” The shield instantly dropped.

“HIRU!!! (THREE!!!).”

The powerful trio cast as one, crying out in unison, “Su Demonio!” Fire vaulted from their daggers and leapt at the Horcruxes. Five more unearthly cries were heard as the soul shards that had been brought from Gringgotts were destroyed.

Somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, the last remnants of Voldemort’s wraith that had escaped when Quirrell died, dissolved in a plaintive cry, its last moment only witnessed by the wind and the trees.

Back in the Chamber, inside of two minutes (an impressively long amount of time to cast a spell as draining as Fiendfyre) there was no sign of any of the artefacts or the enormous Basilisk carcass. Not even ashes remained. The trio ended the spell, having never lost an ounce of control over such a difficult undertaking.

Minerva, thoroughly impressed by the display, let out a shout of “Bravo!” and began to applaud. She was immediately joined by the rest of the team, with hoots and whoops of admiration being added to the commotion.

Eventually they ran out of steam, as the celebrants took the time to really appreciate the fact that Voldemort, or Fold-a-dork depending on your preference, was really and truly gone for good. The mood turned contemplative. Very few in the wizarding world had believed that Voldemort hadn’t been completely vanquished by the Boy-Who-Lived eleven years before. How would they take the news now, that he’d been amongst the still, and that now, Voldemort was truly, finally, and eternally gone?

The team departed the Chamber en masse, then waited as Garreth Lloyd closed the Chamber back off, changing the password to recognise “Open” in either Parseltongue, Dragon Speak or English. Hogwarts had the right to regain its bolt-hole, in the event it might be needed on some future day.

They gathered at the base of the stairs, preparing to fly out, but Amelia wanted to speak first, before they all dispersed.

“We have done a good thing today, a very good thing. I am going to ask you to stay silent about your part in this for another twenty-four hours. This needs to not be covered up by Fudge, the Wizengamot, or Dumbledore. The public is too complacent about the dangers and evil that can thrive when we don’t maintain vigilance, and where we permit bias, nepotism and outdated beliefs to thrive over talent and dedication. We even treat those who should be powerful allies as if they were lesser beings, call them creatures.” She nodded towards Ragnok and his people.

“We’ve seen today what we can achieve when we work together, not for some amorphous Greater Good, but towards tangible goals like eliminating threats to all magical creatures. While we can never share the secret of the Horcruxes, we can spread far and wide the message that it takes all of us to work together, to eliminate evil.”

There was enthusiastic applause as Amelia stopped for a breath.

Speaking less emphatically now, “I’d suggest you get the paper tomorrow. You might find it interesting. And once the paper comes out, feel free to share your role in what we achieved today. Just remember, with the Fidelius, you will only be able to use the generic term soul magic, which is scary enough for most people. But first, let’s gather around, I think the backdrop of the stairs would work well.”

Seeing questioning looks on everyone’s faces, she pulled a magical camera from her pocket, unshrunk it and set it to take a photo on command, and then levitated it a short distance down the tunnel. Realising what was happening, the team, both human and Guduriak, shuffled into a tight group, happy grins on their faces. The camera snapped several photos, including one of Ragnok shaking Amelia’s hand with the rest of the group looking on in the background.

A few days later, Minerva would present Amelia with a copy of a Pensieve memory of her speech, and the advice that her words would be a perfect campaign speech for the position of Minister for Magic. Amelia caught the none-too-subtle hint and just enigmatically smiled.

The team members mounted their brooms and ascended to Myrtle’s bathroom, almost as a procession. They were greeted by the ghost who’d turned into quite a cheerful and welcoming being, and surprisingly, she was gathered with the Bloody Baron, Nearly-Headless Nick, the Fat Friar and the Grey Lady.

It was the entire complement of the House ghosts, and surprisingly, it was the Grey Lady, who was usually mute, who asked, “Is it done? Has Voldemort finally been destroyed, and the abomination he created of my Uncle Salazar’s beloved Basilisk destroyed?”

Minerva didn’t question how the ghosts knew what they’d been up to. She’d lived in the castle for too many years to second guess much anymore. She simply said, “Yes, it is done. It’s all done.”

The Grey Lady closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, then opened them again, and it was obvious that a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispered and disappeared from view. The other House ghosts followed immediately, giving their own words of thanks as they left. Myrtle remained and thanked the team for avenging her death also, then surprisingly passed through the walls, to wander around the castle. She’d been freed as well in a way, now that her story had been heard.

Now that the ghosts were finished with their questions, Garreth Lloyd also replaced the Parseltongue password on the sink with a three-way choice. The first was still in Parseltongue but was changed to “Chamber“, which would thwart any of Foldy’s minions who might have been taught to mimic the password. The second, in Welsh, would be his secret, so there’d be a backup password holder outside of Hogwarts, in case of an emergency. That secret would be “Ysgawen draig“, meaning Dragon Elder, in honour of Ildryth, who was his friend as much as she was Harry’s.

Minerva was given the chance to set the final password, and considered using Gaelic, but decided the prevailing language of the school was English, so she should go with that. She selected “Elphinstone” for her late husband. The entrance to the Chamber was as protected as they could make it, while still allowing access, and they were finally done. Over the summer, it would be worth exploring the Chamber further, perhaps setting up some emergency supplies, but that was a job for another day.

Moving outside into the corridor, a much larger space to congregate, Minerva cast a Tempus and realised it was nearly noon. She instructed the wards to end the safety lockdown, which also alerted the house-elves of the all-clear, then sent a Patronus to Madam Pince and Filius that the emergency was over.

“You’re all welcome to join us for lunch. Perhaps by now, we will be able to find out if Gryffindor has come out on top in the Quidditch Cup.” There was appreciative laughter at her clear bias for her Lions.

The team descended the Grand Staircase and reached the Entrance Hall just as the first students made it back from the pitch. After a three-and-a-half hour battle, Gryffindor had indeed been the victors, and were the clear Quidditch Cup winners. Now Minerva was even more ready to celebrate the day’s events.

By this time, Harry and his friends had made it back to the castle, and seeing both Ragnok and Firelock in the Entrance Hall, raced over for a hug. Some of the students stared at the sight of the Guduriak outside of Gringotts, but also the fact that Harry hugged them both. Susan and Neville shook hands with the pair, but Luna, marching to her own beat again, dived in for hugs as well.

Harry had been fully informed about what was to happen that morning, so he looked at his Aita and the nearest person he had to a grandfather and unconsciously echoed the Grey Lady.

“So it’s all done then?”

Firelock and Ragnok nodded, affirming it was all over. They didn’t quite expect to be nearly bowled over by the twelve-year-old boy, who then thanked them profusely, but perhaps they should have. All they could do was hug Harry back, and let him enjoy the feeling of relief that Voldemort was gone at last, and gone for good.

“Professor McGonagall invited the whole team to join you for lunch. May we sit with you and your friends?” Firelock asked.

“Oh yes please, that sounds wonderful. How much can you tell us? No one got hurt did they?”

“We have promised Susan’s aunt that we will hold off the details until the Daily Prophet comes out tomorrow, and she gets a few things sorted out at the Ministry. But there were no injuries, and your Aita and I made sure personally that Riddle was ended, permanently.” That explanation, limited as it was, scored Ragnok another hug, which he didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Come on then, let’s go eat,” said Susan. “I wonder if Auntie will sit with us as well,” she commented as they moved into the Great Hall.

“I certainly will,” Amelia replied, coming up behind the four friends and their Guduriak lunchmates.

Luna, as she usually did, sat at the Hufflepuff table with them. In many ways, she wished she was a year older because then she could take classes with her friends. They were just a much better fit for her, and because she’d studied with them so much over the entire year, a lot of the first-year classes had been boring and a bit too easy. That, and her Mum had taught her a lot of the first two years of the Hogwarts curriculum before she’d died. Oh well, she decided, it could be worse, she could be two years behind her best friends.

Susan had been paying attention though, and knew how frustrated the younger girl was with some of her dorm mates and many of her classes. She suspected that there was more bullying going on than Luna would admit to. And many people got fooled by her dreamy presence, but Luna was very shrewd and mature behind the front she presented.

She grabbed a notebook out of the book bag she tended to carry everywhere and hastily scribbled a few lines.

Auntie,

Pay quiet attention to Luna. Would like to talk to you after.

Love S

Amelia read the note that was placed in her lap, just under the edge of the table. Giving her niece a puzzled look, she subtly nodded back and did as she was asked. It was only a few minutes into the conversation that she saw what Susan intended her to see. Perhaps a talk with Filius and Miss Lovegood was in order.

Soon lunch was over, and for a change, nobody wanted to rush off, sensing something was in the air. Having thirty extra people to lunch, a good number of them goblins, as most of the students erroneously knew them to be, meant something was up at Hogwarts. And where was the Headmaster if something momentous had happened? Had he been sacked?

In point of fact, Dumbledore and the entire Board of Governors had crossed the school ward boundary several minutes ago and would be entering the Great Hall shortly.

Minerva stood from her place at the High Table, on hearing voices in the Entrance Hall.

“Quiet everyone, quiet please.” The students settled quickly as Dumbledore and the Governors entered, halting at the back of the room to listen, though the Headmaster was itching to be the one on the dais delivering the news. Not hearing it along with everyone else.

“Thank you all. Now you will have noticed we have two sets of visitors with us today. Welcome to the Board of Governors who have just joined us.”

There was polite applause. Minerva had sent a Patronus message to Augusta, informing her of the team’s success in the Chamber. Neville’s gran had called the meeting to a halt and insisted they make their way up to the school. After a bit of bickering, the dozen Governors, plus one confused Headmaster, got underway, and now they were ready to hear what was going on.

Minerva continued, “You will also notice we have a contingent from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Gringotts Bank with us. I wish to announce that there is no further risk of being petrified, that the Chamber of Secrets is closed and secured, and the Basilisk that was threatening us all has been eliminated.”

That was a lot to take in all at once, but loud and genuine applause broke out when the students and other teachers figured out what Minerva had really said.

“Now, there will be more details emerging in future days, but we wished for you to know that we are safe and no longer under any threat.”

More applause.

“So onto the most important thing, congratulations to the Gryffindor team for winning me the right to keep the Quidditch Cup on my desk again. I wish I could have been there to see it, but I was a bit busy elsewhere this morning. Still, I’m sure Hagrid filled my role with enthusiasm, and that his support was invaluable.”

Hagrid gave a joyful wave, and the Gryffindor students cheered for the enormous man who’d done his best to egg the team on to victory.

The mention of Hagrid reminded Amelia to look into his expulsion. His lack of culpability in Myrtle’s death had been clearly proved. She’d get him his wand back, and the chance to complete his education if he desired, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

Minerva moved to her final remarks. “Gryffindors, please remember in your celebrations today and tonight that Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey are very mysteriously out of Hangover Draughts. And that I am only willing to extend the curfew until midnight. So, before you all go and have fun, let’s please have one more round of applause for the teams that dealt with the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk.”

At that, she clapped heartily herself and was joined by everyone in the room. The applause went on for a long minute, then tapered off. Students drifted out of the Great Hall, to do whatever they wished for the rest of this Saturday, with most of the Gryffindors excitedly headed towards their tower.

Amelia borrowed a pen from her niece, turned over the note she’d received, and jotted a few reminders regarding Luna and Hagrid, then passed the biro back to Susan.

“Have fun this afternoon, the four of you. I must get back to the Ministry, there’s so much to be done. Susan, I’ll call you this evening. Enjoy the rest of the day.” After a quick hug from Susan, Amelia rapidly escaped the Great Hall, narrowly avoiding both Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy. As soon as she could physically manage it, she was in Minerva’s office and headed to the Ministry via Floo.

~0~0~

The Minister first, was Amelia’s thought, as she exited the fireplace into the atrium at the Ministry. She’d talked with him briefly the day before, and given him a heads-up that she would be conducting a major operation on Saturday morning and that he might want to interrupt his afternoon plans to hear her report.

Checking her desk, she found a report that made her smile in a way that most of her staff dreaded; the boss was about to ruin somebody’s day. She added the folder to the other files she’d built on the case, along with the technical reports from Gringotts on the Horcruxes and how they’d been located, and headed up one level to the Minister’s office.

~0~0~

“Ah, Amelia my dear, come in, come in. I hope you had a successful morning, though I’m intrigued as to what you have been up to this day. Say, you haven’t been upsetting Albus, have you? His phoenix brought me a very terse note, demanding a meeting, and I had to say I was tied up with other matters. He seemed very unhappy, reading between the lines.” Cornelius Fudge finally stopped for a breath, which allowed Amelia to get a word in.

“Better sit down, Cornelius, it’s going to be a long afternoon otherwise. And yes, it’s probably me, and this morning’s operation, that made him mad.”

Fudge insisted on ordering tea and pastries, so there was a couple of minutes delay until a house-elf popped the requested items into the office. After fixing her tea, and declining a scone, having just eaten at Hogwarts, she proceeded to blow the Minister’s worldview into pieces.

“So, the key thing to note in all this is…until about two hours, Voldemort wasn’t completely dead!”

That statement made sure the Minister was wide awake and paying attention. It also had him adding a slosh of rum to his teacup and offering the same to Amelia, though she declined, still having much to do that day.

Wide-eyed, Fudge tried to protest that it was impossible, but faded into incoherence when presented with the reports from Gringotts, and the sheer number of Horcruxes that Tom Riddle had made.

It wasn’t surprising that she had to explain a Horcrux to Fudge, or how they were created. Thankfully they were an obscure piece of magic that should honestly be completely erased from memory and existence. But she was a bit surprised that he hadn’t known Voldemort and Riddle were the same wizard, given he’d only been a couple of years behind the boy at Hogwarts, and in the same House as well. Then again, Riddle had done quite a masterful job of reinventing himself, as was evidenced by how much work the Guduriak had put in to identify the wizard he’d started out as.

The involvement of the Guduriak, or the goblins as Fudge insisted on calling them, was another shock to the Minister’s paradigm. He’d always considered the entire race as little more than a somewhat stubborn tool that should be bent according to the wizarding world’s wishes. To find that they’d been the prime movers in the search for the Horcruxes, and had actually struck the final blow against Voldemort, had Fudge rather gobsmacked.

The blows kept on coming against the Minister. The reality that students had been petrified by a huge Basilisk, which was itself a Horcrux. And that a first year was being manipulated by another Horcrux thanks to a possessed diary being introduced to the school. Well, that sounded like the plot of a bad novel, and yet it was all true.

The next blow to strike Fudge was delivered courtesy of the report Amelia had grabbed from her desk on the way to Fudge’s office. One of her junior Aurors had been on a raid to Malfoy Manor the year before. He’d witnessed Dobby being berated by Lucius Malfoy for some minor transgression during their search.

The poor house-elf, dressed in a worn-out pillowcase, had cowered in front of the tall blonde wizard, and the incident had stayed in his mind. When Amelia put a request out, throughout the DMLE, for anyone who had knowledge of a house-elf named Dobby, it had taken a little while to recall the name, but he’d left the report for Madam Bones as he’d finished his overnight shift that morning. It was that report that had caused Amelia to smile so grimly as she’d left her office a short while before.

The news that there was strong circumstantial evidence to tie Lucius Malfoy to the introduction of a possessed diary containing a Horcrux into Hogwarts, which led to all the events of the year, sent Cornelius Fudge reeling. The man was a constant visitor to his office, a key advisor in determining the Ministry’s actions in the Wizengamot, and Fudge considered him to be a close friend.

The campaign contributions, even in years there were no elections, were greatly appreciated as well. Particularly as they always arrived in a form that allowed him to avoid acknowledging he’d personally been gifted large money pouches of Galleons.

He really didn’t want to hear Amelia’s next words.

“Cornelius, I wish I had the evidence to charge Lucius Malfoy for his actions with that diary. But unfortunately, we both know that I’d never be able to sway the Wizengamot to convict him in hundreds of cases of child endangerment. There should be one for every child attending Hogwarts. But that is wishful thinking on my part. What I do have is strong grounds for opening a public corruption case against him.”

Fudge visibly gulped at her words, then cringed further as Amelia continued, “I have evidence of bribes paid to several department heads in the Ministry, to ensure that decisions were made that were favourable to Malfoy’s wishes. I was working on this case well before we knew about the Horcruxes or Malfoy’s role. We just had to put things on the back burner, because that became the priority. But I have time now and I will pursue it. There will be scrutiny of Lucius Malfoy’s close ties with your office, so if anything slightly shady has been going on, this is your only warning to clean up your act.”

Fudge tried to bluster his way out of being investigated, but was silenced by a sharp glare.

“And just to make things very clear to you, I will be pursuing these charges not in front of the Wizengamot, but the International Wizarding Court, due to the likelihood that the corruption will derail our own justice system in the Wizengamot. I have an appointment to present preliminary evidence to Magister Baros in Paris Monday morning.”

The Minister slumped in his chair, seeing the writing on the wall. “And if I cooperate with your investigation, assist you in obtaining convictions for corruption? What then?”

“You’ll need to be questioned under Veritaserum, before a Magister, Cornelius. If you’re truly willing to do so, I can make a case for leniency when I talk with Baros on Monday. But I suspect you are looking at resigning as Minister for Magic, retiring to a quiet life, and will likely face some fines.”

Fudge nodded in resignation. Truthfully it was a good deal that he’d probably take. His wife wouldn’t be happy, but he’d retain much of his reputation, and wouldn’t spend any time in prison. Perhaps he could use the fact that Voldemort was finally vanquished as an excuse to be able to step down. That he was making way for the start of a new era for the British wizarding world. That would play well in the press and with the public, he thought.

Then a moment of inspiration struck, as he put two and two together, particularly with the letter he’d received earlier from Dumbledore.

“You kept Albus out of the loop with all this, didn’t you? Conducted your operation with Guduriak assistance, and did it all under his nose?”

He figured with retirement in his future, he would do well to stay on the good side of those that would be managing his gold to fund that retirement. Amelia just smirked at the sudden change in names.

“I did indeed. The whole thing started when Harry Potter became a Gringotts-protected wizard, thanks to the actions of his grandparents and great-grandparents. The Guduriak initiated the whole investigation and made great inroads without catching the attention of the DMLE. If my niece Susan hadn’t become close friends with Harry, it’s possible the Guduriak would have managed the whole thing themselves, and presented us with a fait accompli in the end.”

Fudge just shook his head. It seemed he’d underestimated the Guduriak his entire life.

Amelia casually delivered the next blow.

“You may not be aware that Harry has been adopted by a Guduriak couple. Firelock, who is deputy to Buruzagi Ragnkok, and his wife Ringstar, who is a renowned Mind Healer, became very close to the boy and adopted him last summer. Ragnok considers him to be another grandson.”

Cornelius’ eyes went wide at that news. Well, it seemed he’d be making nice with Harry Potter too if the opportunity arose.

But back to Dumbledore. He knew the Headmaster would be incensed about the whole Horcrux and Basilisk mess being sorted out without his input. He was almost obsessed with his view of the Greater Good, and how he, Albus Dumbledore, was the only one who had the capacity to determine what that was, or how it should be achieved. Which made Fudge consider, for the first time, what insidious plans the aged wizard might have been contemplating in regard to the Boy-Who-Lived. It seemed that he would be wise to avoid the Headmaster for as long as possible and ensure any meetings with the man occurred in public spaces, and with witnesses.

Amelia Bones was no dummy, and Cornelius Fudge had no poker face at all. She’d read that internal conversation almost word for word, by the changes to the Minister’s visage. She had no objection to Fudge’s plans. It would serve to frustrate the old goat further, and perhaps drive him to a place that would allow the Board of Governors, ably led by Augusta, to oust Dumbledore from Hogwarts once and for all.

~~~○●○●○●○~`~

Amelia took her leave from the Minister then, intent on getting to the offices of the Daily Prophet to give the editor, Barnabas Cuffe, the story of a lifetime. Complete with pictures.

And the story of a lifetime it was indeed. One of the Aurors had been tasked with getting some key photographs: the Aurors and Warriors in flight as they battled the Basilisk; the Basilisk once it had been killed; the three Guduriak destroying the Horcruxes; Garreth Lloyd speaking the password to the serpent-carved doors of the Chamber, as well as the group photo at the base of the spiral staircase.

The following morning, wizarding households around Britain, and a school in Scotland, sat down to breakfast with a Daily Prophet in hand, bearing the headline, “VOLDEMORT FINALLY VANQUISHED!”

That the dark wizard they’d thought dead eleven years before had found a way to preserve seven links to the wizarding world was a great shock to the public and many of the Hogwarts staff and students. The details of the operation to destroy the evil soul magic (Amelia was careful to avoid explicit discussion of the Horcruxes, and kept only to very general terms), the story of a Basilisk petrifying students, and the implication that those attacks at the school had been hidden from the public; every aspect of the story grabbed the attention of anyone who read it.

Needless to say, Albus Dumbledore sitting on his throne-like chair at the High Table, was literally seething with rage. He’d had no response from the Minister beyond a bland note that had arrived before breakfast, begging off any meetings at present, due to the current confusion and upheaval. It didn’t help Dumbledore’s disposition that he’d played no part in the whole process.

In fact, he’d been kept away from Harry Potter since last summer, thanks to the unwarranted order of protection issued by that interfering busybody who’d stolen his Chief Warlock position. He also now knew that there was no coincidence in the timing of his being called before the Board of Governors the day before. The Defeater of Grindelwald was losing his status and his power within the wizarding world, and at the moment, he had no clue how to go about reclaiming it.

Meanwhile, Harry and his friends joined in the eager chatter about all the revelations found in that morning’s Daily Prophet. He and his closest friends might know more than they were telling, but nobody really begrudged their right to privacy at that time. There were just too many other juicy details to gossip about.

~0~0~

Amelia Bones had a couple of other things to sort out before she left for Paris Sunday afternoon. She had dinner scheduled at 8 pm with Ellie (Elefteria) Baros, her old friend and the Magister she’d approached over the Quirrell affair. They had a tradition of dining in a small, known only to locals, restaurant on the Left Bank, enjoying the Breton cuisine that was the chef’s specialty, then taking a long walk along the bank of the Seine, and catching each other up on all they’d been doing since the last time they’d met.

But first, Amelia had two important meetings to get through and had scheduled them both in one of the upstairs rooms at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. The one before lunch was quite simple and required only the presence of Filius Flitwick as the Ravenclaw Head of House, and Minerva McGonagall as Deputy Headmistress. The surprise addition was first-year, Luna Lovegood, who was happily chatting with Madam Rosmerta downstairs, until she’d be called to join the meeting.

Amelia had managed a long mirror-box call with Susan the previous night, and her niece had detailed a number of concerns for how the young girl was being treated by some of her peers, but also her incredible intelligence and eidetic memory when they got together in their study room. It was Susan’s opinion that Luna could easily pass the second-year exams, and should be allowed to join her friends in their third-year classes next year.

It would also give her respite from harassment because she’d move to the third-year dorms, and Padma Patil was fiercely anti-bullying and would happily take the younger girl under her wing.

Amelia made her case to the duo of professors and Filius was frustrated to hear that the bullying he worked so hard to prevent in his House was still ongoing, even if it was no longer as overt as it had been in years gone by. Minerva was reserved in her reaction. It was rare for a child to jump a year at Hogwarts, and she wasn’t convinced that Miss Lovegood had the maturity to advance in this way. Still, she’d listened with an open mind.

So Amelia made the request that they quiz Luna on the second-year material in each of their subjects, and they agreed to do so.

Luna joined them then and verbally tested out of the key points of the first-year curriculum for Charms and Transfiguration effortlessly. She then showed a solid grounding in the second-year topics, enough that both professors felt that she’d be ready to sit the exams in a month if she were able to join the second-year classes for revision for the remainder of the year.

There would probably be two difficulties in executing the plan. Severus Snape would likely argue that Luna hadn’t brewed any of the second year potions. But then the blonde girl brought out a potions log, demonstrating she’d brewed all the second-year potions the summer before because her father tended to let her get away with whatever she wanted. Minerva decided Severus could probably be talked around if he had Luna brew a couple of the more difficult potions, as long as she executed them well.

Of course, the biggest sticking point was Albus, but Minerva argued she had that in hand. She’d just have Augusta call another Board of Governors meeting to discuss the issue. Given the old goat practically broke out in hives at the mention of the Board or Augusta these days, Minerva felt secure in giving Luna permission to advance a grade. Amelia just smiled as the girl danced gleefully, and promised to make her professors proud.

The trio returned by Floo to Hogwarts, and Luna raced to the study group’s common room to share the good news. Susan decided she needed to send her Aunt a huge bouquet of flowers as a thank-you gift for looking out for Luna, and promised herself to arrange that with Neville and Professor Sprout after Herbology the next day.

~0~0~

Amelia’s second meeting of the day was considerably more complicated, in that it involved the entire Board of Governors. She’d had an early morning Floo call with Hagrid, while the rest of the school was at breakfast in the Great Hall, digesting the contents of the Daily Prophet along with their full English.

When Hagrid heard that the head of the DMLE was prepared to clear him of all involvement in the death of Myrtle Warren fifty years ago and go before the Board to prove his innocence, the half-giant had cried a river of tears. He’d never been charged with a crime, just expelled and had his wand snapped. It should take little effort, Amelia believed, to reverse that travesty of justice.

What did surprise Amelia was Hagrid’s wishes, once he regained the right to carry a wand. Despite being in his mid-sixties, Hagrid wished to return to Hogwarts as a student and rejoin the third-year class he’d been removed from half a century before. He’d lived frugally all that time, apart from some unfortunate excesses of the ale variety, and had more than enough money to pay for the remainder of his Hogwarts tuition.

Hagrid had a standing offer of a dragon handling position at the Welsh Green Dragon Reserve from Garreth Lloyd, the minute he gained a NEWT in Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid’s only wish was to remain in his hut on the grounds when he returned to classes. He was simply too old and too big to happily resume dorm living, and he wanted to stay with Fang anyway.

In the end, it took little work to convince the eleven Governors (Lucius Malfoy being conspicuously absent) to reinstate Hagrid as a student and reverse the expulsion, thanks to Augusta’s strong hand as Chair of the Board. In fact, she went one better and argued that Hagrid’s remaining tuition should be waived, due to the miscarriage of justice he’d laboured under for fifty years.

Hagrid was beaming as he left the meeting, and gladly accepted Amelia’s offer of a personal escort to Ollivanders to obtain a new wand. In the end, Garrick Ollivander offered to create a custom, oversized wand for Hagrid, surprising them when he advised it could be done in the space of a couple of hours. Hagrid and Amelia retreated to the Leaky Cauldron and talked about the half-giant’s s plans for resuming his studies, and what electives he’d choose.

The selection of Care of Magical Creatures was a foregone conclusion, but Hagrid’s second choice of Muggle Studies had her scratching her head. Then Hagrid explained that the day he’d taken Harry to Diagon Alley, at Dumbledore’s behest, was his first-ever foray into the Muggle world, and he’d decided that he’d like to know more.

They returned to Ollivanders just before 4 pm, to find him bearing a twenty-two inch wand with a surprising core. Just as he was getting started, Fawkes had appeared out of nowhere and plucked a wing feather, then presented it to the ancient wand maker, before disappearing in a gout of fire. Deeply honoured by the gift for Hagrid’s wand, Garrick had spent a careful half hour, contemplating his choices for the wand wood.

He’d finally decided on Ash wood, which was renowned for being matched to one true owner, who were apt to be steadfast in their beliefs and purpose, and tended to be highly courageous, if somewhat stubborn when they had their backs against the wall. On hearing that description, Amelia didn’t think Ollivander could have made a better wand for the soon-to-be (again) third year.

Hagrid simply sobbed in profound joy, when a wave of his custom wand resulted in a spontaneous Patronus, in the form of a giant bear, nearly as large as the wizard that produced it. What was most amazing, was that it was corporeal enough to gather Hagrid into a true bear hug. Amelia and Garrick grinned at the manifest expression of Hagrid’s great joy. It had truly been a good day.

~0~0~

Second year was winding down for Harry and his friends. As May became June, their professors switched from teaching new material to reviewing all they’d done over the course of the past year.

There had been a bit of a stir when Luna joined the second-year classes, but once she’d spent the first Saturday in June brewing about any potion Snape could throw at her, the chatter died down pretty quickly. If the very rigorous Potions Master accepted the Ravenclaw, then that was all that needed to be said on the matter. And Padma had halfway adopted her as a second sister, the minute Luna moved into the second-year dorm, which eased the transition in Ravenclaw House as well.

Dumbledore didn’t appear too often over the course of that month. It seemed he had troubles of his own, and the students grew used to seeing Professor McGonagall making, and announcing, the big decisions.

Finally, exams were over, and Harry and Co had four days of freedom to enjoy before they took the last Hogwarts Express ride of the year. Monday afternoon, they were sprawled under their favourite (non-Whomping) willow near the edge of the Black Lake, soaking up the early summer sun, and exulting in being done with classes for the year.

Suddenly there was the sound of a pop, and then a small greenish-coloured creature with bulbous eyes, and enormous ears, in a bedraggled tea towel, launched himself into Harry’s arms, exclaiming, “Dobby was given clothes. Dobby is a free elf at last, Harry Potter sir, and it’s thanks to the Great Harry Potter that Dobby is free!”

Dobby dissolved into sobs of joy, unable to explain further. Indeed, when Harry went down to the kitchens, just before the Leaving Feast two days later, the ecstatic elf dissolved into bawling in delight once again, and was frankly still nonsensical. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall had been easily persuaded to hire the elf for the price of one day off a month, and one Galleon a week. Dobby had wanted less, but the Gryffindor Head had been resolute, and he’d finally accepted the deal.

At last, the Leaving Feast was over. Harry and Neville were packing, along with the rest of their dorm mates, and making desultory plans for the summer. The Harry and Co group had all picked Care of Magical Creatures, along with Ancient Runes or Arithmancy as their electives, with some adding a third elective of Arithmancy, Muggle Studies or Divination, depending on their interests.

Harry had added Arithmancy, having always done well at Maths at Primary School, while Neville had elected to take Muggle Studies. Susan had matched Harry in her choices, while Luna had opted for Divination as her third elective. When questioned as to why she’d ever take a class with Sybill Trelawney, who was just plain weird, Luna had just smiled and said she would be learning from a master and refused to be drawn further.

In what felt like less than the space of a heartbeat, the night passed and the final morning of the Hogwarts year arrived. The house-elves put on an impressive spread for breakfast, which was enhanced by the lack of a sulking Headmaster at the High Table. Dumbledore had delivered a brief and lacklustre speech at the Leaving Feast before disappearing back to his quarters the night before, and then disappeared once more. Though no one knew for certain at the time, it would be Dumbledore’s swansong as Headmaster at Hogwarts.

By nine o’clock, the Thestral drawn carriages began a continuous loop between the school and Hogsmeade station, delivering the entire body of students to the train in time for its departure for London. Hagrid was on the platform, enthusiastically waving goodbye to his new year mates.

Finally, the last whistle sounded, and the engine gathered steam, then began its creep forward out of Hogsmeade station. As he gazed out the window, Hedwig perched on his shoulder and nudged Harry’s head to remind him she needed skritches. When Hogsmeade finally disappeared from view behind them, Harry glanced around the compartment, casting his eyes on his closest friends, and decided it had truly been a good year despite all the drama. And now he was headed home to see his parents, return to the Enklabe, and have two months of freedom. Life was wonderful, he thought, wonderful indeed.

~0~0~

“When we look back on all the perils through which we have passed and at the mighty foes that we have laid low and all the dark and deadly designs that we have frustrated, why should we fear our future? We have come safely through the worst.”

Winston Churchill, date unknown

Amelia Bones, 1993, on being appointed as Minister for Magic

 

Chapter 16 – Epilogue

“One does not leave a convivial party before closing time.”

Winston Churchill, 1954

Minerva McGonagall to Harry Potter, when the latter showed signs of wanting to leave her retirement party early, 2nd of July, 2023

~0~0~

Harry Potter was seated with his family around a large table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The enormous room was filled to the brim with round tables, and every seat was taken. He could see the faces of many old friends amongst the crowd and looked forward to catching up properly before the day was out.

It was a momentous, if slightly sad day, for the British wizarding world, because they were farewelling one of the most beloved Headmistresses in the history of Hogwarts. Today, after thirty years in the post, Minerva McGonagall, aged eighty-seven, would be handing over the reins to younger hands.

Not that the venerated Headmistress was leaving Hogwarts. Her new position was something she’d been working on for many years. Apprentices would be returning to Hogwarts come September first, and six students would begin their Mastery programmes, each with a Professor who was returning from retirement or newly retired. Minerva was looking forward to taking on her first-ever Transfiguration apprentice.

Professor Hayden Brissette was one of the new retirees, as was Severus Snape. It had surprised Minerva when she’d taken over the role of Headmistress, that she hadn’t received a resignation letter from the Potions Master post haste. But it seems the year he’d spent teaching, when he’d been able to use his own textbooks, had made a huge change to the generally irascible wizard.

He’d gone on to write several other advanced texts over the years and had spent most of the last twenty years exclusively teaching the OWL and NEWT students, once Minerva was able to flesh out the staffing to the levels they should have been all along. She’d even managed to wrangle the budget into allowing teaching assistants for the most dangerous classes, such as Potions, Herbology, and Defence, which had made quite a difference in the injury rates at Hogwarts over the years.

It had become a bit of a tradition that newly graduated NEWT students, taking a gap year, would return to take the teaching assistant role, particularly if it was a subject they were considering an apprenticeship in. In fact, Severus’ replacement had been one of the first gap year applicants over twenty years before.

Severus would also be remaining at Hogwarts, conducting independent research, brewing specialty potions for the school and St Mungo’s, filling in with classes here and there, as well as taking on responsibility for an apprentice. Despite all his complaints over the years about living amongst dunderheads, Minerva knew it would take the strongest known blasting curse to extract the man from his dungeon home, and she was happy to have him remain. They’d become quite good friends over the last few decades, much as he’d always deny it.

Professor Brissette was staying at the school as well, and would be taking over as Head of Gryffindor House in the coming year, thanks to a change of role for its current incumbent. They were still happily changing identity and gender on a near-daily basis, which continued to amuse the students and staff to no end.

They had an aura of contentment these days, since adopting twin girls and bringing Julia and Sophia to the castle. The twins had been the magical daughters of Hayden’s Squib niece, a single mother back in Canada, who’d been doing well raising them with the support of the extended family. But their mum had fallen victim to ovarian cancer when the twins were four, and Hayden had stepped up and taken over as their parent. The girls had thrived with the adoration of the entire student body and were due to start as first years in the new school year as well.

Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick were returning from retirement to take on their apprentices, though neither would be living in the castle; instead, they’d be commuting in from their homes. Filius had retired to the Enklabe five years before, where he’d finally married an old childhood friend, Dellsong, and the two of them were well-known soft touches when it came to spoiling the clan children. Filius was looking forward to teaching more formally again, though the one-on-one nature of an apprenticeship would be rather different, but he’d also be helping out with Charms classes, and taking a role in the Charms Club again, so he had much to look forward to.

Likewise, Pomona had returned, though she’d only retired two years before. She’d moved to a cottage in Yorkshire, the small acreage expanded with wizarding space, and had set up an extensive network of greenhouses. She had several house-elves that helped tend her own plantings, and so would be free to help out in the Hogwarts greenhouses as well, in addition to training her apprentice.

The rest of the school had experienced great surprise on Pomona’s retirement, in that she’d been joined in her move to Yorkshire by Mediwitch Poppy Pomfrey. A very quiet romance had blossomed between the two witches over the past forty years, and Minerva was one of the few who’d known they’d moved exclusively into Pomona’s quarters around the time Harry and his friends had graduated. Apart from needing to know where everyone’s quarters were for safety, as Headmistress, Minerva had been the one to adjust the wards and alerting system for the infirmary so that Poppy could be quickly accessible by Floo. The addition of a second mediwitch, Penelope Clearwater, newly out of her own apprenticeship at St Mungo’s two years later, meant many fewer disturbed nights for the couple.

Both witches were taking on apprentices in the new training programme, and would Floo in from home each morning. Minerva looked forward to seeing all her oldest friends on a daily basis again.

~0~0~

Hagrid was one former co-worker who was in attendance but wouldn’t be returning to Hogwarts to teach an apprentice anytime soon. He had indeed gone forward with his plans to return to Hogwarts as a student and had joined Harry’s class of third years when September arrived. He’d struggled a little with being a student again, but Luna had insisted that he join the study group, and he was back in the swing of things in no time.

And it didn’t take long for his fellow third years to realise the big man knew a lot more than he realised. He just sometimes lacked the more formal language needed to turn it into an essay format. So a mutually helpful dynamic evolved, with Hagrid explaining topics from Care of Magical Creatures to Charms and Astronomy (he’d spent a lot of time with the centaurs over the years), while Susan, Padma and Luna edited his essays to make them more legible and understandable. By the middle of second term, Hagrid had been doing so well that the girls had little work to do, except to correct the odd spelling error.

Hagrid had been surprised, come fifth year, to be appointed as a Gryffindor prefect, but he was a popular choice. He might still sleep in his hut, but he was a daily presence in the common room, and he’d gained a lot of wisdom over his years at the school. Minerva tried to make him Head Boy in his seventh year, but Hagrid had modestly pointed out he was a bit long in the tooth to be called Boy anything and had commented that someone else might need the boost to their career that such a title would carry. After all, his post-Hogwarts plans had been set for five years. He was headed to Wales to work for Garreth Lloyd at the dragon reserve, and Hagrid couldn’t wait.

Hagrid’s one last dream had come true five years ago. Professor Snape had been experimenting with a potion similar to the Animagus-revealing potion. Only this new recipe was aimed at unlocking any latent or potential animal-speaking capabilities. In truth, he was activating recessive genes, but most of the wizarding world was still rather clueless when it came to Muggle science, so that was the phrasing he’d used. After careful testing, Snape had been ready for his first subject to try the potion, and Hagrid had begged for the opportunity.

Severus had been a bit reluctant, thanks to Hagrid’s half-giant ancestry being a bit of a wild card, but it was very hard to resist the then ninety-year-old man’s pleading eyes. Hagrid figured he only had fifteen or so years left to work with the dragons before he’d have to at least semi-retire, and he’d dreamed of speaking directly with the magnificent creatures his entire life.

When the potion had worked successfully, Hagrid nearly drowned Severus in tears, then raced outside to hold his first true conversation with a dragon. Dethen, the dragon who’d come to Hogwarts in Harry’s second year, was now one of the leading males in the thunder, and the two were especially close. Harry and Garreth were on hand to welcome the newest Dragon Speaker to their ranks but ended up going off for morning tea, then lunch, before the pair were done saying all they had to say. Hagrid was over the moon, of course, and pretty much was still smiling five years later.

~0~0~

Sitting at his table near the front of the Hall, Harry was unsurprised to hear, once the retirement gossip was done, that the talk turned to the topic of Albus Dumbledore, even three decades later.

The former Headmaster had been ousted rather ignominiously by the Board of Governors, over the summer between Harry’s second and third years, after the destruction of the Basilisk below the school, and the seven Horcruxes also. The Governors had been less than impressed by how little time the elderly wizard had spent on actual school-related tasks, and that he was focused more on his political career, side projects (including an independent hunt for the Horcruxes), setting up Harry to take the fall for the wizarding world, and generally projecting an air that he was the only one who knew what was best for the wizarding world. He’d already been placed on probation the year before, and his lack of action regarding the Basilisk at large in the school, along with the issues previously mentioned, were enough to see him fired.

Harry’s parents hadn’t been the slightest bit upset to see the headline in the Daily Prophet: “DUMBLEDORE SACKED!” Frankly, they’d have liked to see the former Headmaster brought up on charges over Harry’s placement at the Dursleys, and the fact that he’d done nothing to prevent the abuse and neglect their son had suffered. But Harry had insisted he’d moved on from those days, and hadn’t wanted to be dragged before the Wizengamot to testify again, so they’d dropped the issue at his request.

Dumbledore had continued to be a thorn in the family’s side for a while though. He insisted that they must not have been able to remove the Horcrux from Harry’s scar; that the only way to do so would be for Harry to die. He babbled on about a prophecy, and how Harry hasn’t been the one to kill Voldemort.

The old wizard simply refused to accept that Harry, in returning to Gringotts and seeking allies, had fulfilled the prophecy when his own adoptive father and as-good-as grandfather had been two of the three Guduriak to finish off the Horcruxes once and for all. Even being presented with the prophecy orb gone dark, indicating it had been fulfilled, didn’t sway the old goat.

But his persistent claims to anyone who would listen, and many who didn’t, that Voldemort would return once more, and his recalcitrant attitude, despite the abundance of proof, soon made him an object of ridicule in the wizarding world. With no desire to return to the Dumbledore family home in Godric’s Hollow, filled as it was with unhappy memories of the death of his sister Ariana, he instead took a room at the Leaky Cauldron and pleaded his case to every customer that he could.

Tom, the ancient barman and owner of the establishment, took to plying the old wizard with free fire-whiskey. A sozzled Dumbledore tended towards more quiet and maudlin, and he left the other patrons alone. However, there was an unintended consequence to Tom’s method of quieting the former Headmaster down. He’d sometimes wander off (though perhaps stumble off was the more accurate term) into Diagon Alley and window shop for an hour or two. No one could figure out why he was so attracted to such things, so they just shrugged their shoulders and accepted it as part of the new post-Voldemort normal.

However, things changed dramatically on the third Saturday in October. Dumbledore had been harassing the customers at the Leaky Cauldron, though he’d started a little earlier than usual that day, and Tom had been giving the wizard double shots of fire whiskey to calm him down since about 9:30 that morning. Shortly before 4 pm, Dumbledore had disappeared from his usual booth in the darkest corner of the bar, and everyone had assumed he’d gone window shopping as usual. When he didn’t return later that night, Tom just assumed some old acquaintance had taken Albus in for the night, and thought nothing more of it.

When it came to Sunday evening, with no sign of the man, Tom became concerned and called for the Aurors. Given Dumbledore had not been missing for at least forty-eight hours, their hands were largely tied, though they did issue an alert notice to keep an eye out for the old wizard. Given Albus was well over one hundred and thirty years old, there was considerable speculation that he’d finally lost his marbles entirely. It would, however, be a mystery that would never be solved.

Because Albus Dumbledore had indeed gone window shopping the afternoon before, but deeper in his cups than usual, he’d wandered out of the wrong door of the Leaky Cauldron, and onto Charing Cross Road. Three blocks down, the wizard in the garish robe had gone to cross the road, intrigued by the sight of another second-hand bookstore, and been cleaned up by the Number 28 bus that had been speeding a little to make up time.

Despite the swift actions of the emergency services, Albus Dumbledore was declared Dead On Arrival, at the Accident and Emergency Department of nearby Charing Cross Hospital, due to severe trauma. High blood alcohol levels were noted in the medical record as likely contributing to the man stepping under a bus.

Naturally, the police were involved, particularly when the bus accident victim carried no identification, was of advanced age, and wearing what they could only think was an over-the-top nightgown and cap. Calls were made to care facilities, particularly those serving patients with dementia, and local health authorities checked on any patients living in the community that might bear some resemblance to the accident victim.

But the body was never matched to any missing person case, and the elderly man was too clean and well-nourished to be a transient or homeless. Three months later, the accidental death was declared a cold case with a victim of unknown identity. As with all unclaimed bodies, the local council authorities arranged for a simple coffin and burial in an unmarked grave. It was just another unsolved mystery, and nobody in authority particularly cared once it became obvious that there was no one to claim the body. Albus Dumbledore went unspectacularly forward to his Next Great Adventure, unlauded and alone.

Periodically, there would be an article in the Daily Prophet questioning what had happened to the Defeater of Grindelwald, former Headmaster, Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump. But even those tapered off to nothing when a few years had passed without news.

~0~0~

Harry perked up, glad for a break from all the gossip, when he saw the first person to stand and move to the podium to make a speech toasting Minerva McGonagall’s years of service. Amelia Bones had been Minister for Magic for the last three decades and remained immensely popular, thanks to her fair, no-nonsense, take-charge personality and approach to the office.

Amelia had indeed gone to Paris the night after Voldemort had finally been destroyed and made cases against a number of high-level Ministry of Magic officials. As promised, Cornelius Fudge had gone free and resigned as Minister, having given masses of evidence over to the investigation, courtesy of testimony under Veritaserum. The Head of the DMLE was appointed as the temporary Minister until elections could be held and enjoyed seeing eight high-level officials being found guilty on corruption charges.

Her success in sweeping the Ministry free of malfeasance made Amelia a certain victor when elections were held in November. Lucius Malfoy had mounted a campaign for the position as well, but he’d been known to have had close ties to many of the Ministry employees now cooling their heels in Azkaban, which thwarted his goal to run the Ministry himself. A quiet, but persistent, rumour that he’d narrowly avoided bribery charges torpedoed his campaign even further.

Amelia gave a warm and heartfelt speech to the assembled crowd, lauding Minerva’s innovations as Headmistress of Hogwarts, and reminding the listeners that she’d also played a strong role in protecting the school from Voldemort and the Basilisk. It was a masterful speech and the standing ovation at the end was as much for the Minister for Magic as the outgoing Headmistress of Hogwarts. Amelia was joined in applauding Minerva by her husband Garreth Lloyd. They’d hit it off during the whole Basilisk affair, and the Dragon Speaker had asked Amelia for a date the day after she’d returned from Paris. A year later, they were married, much to Harry and Susan’s delight.

~0~0~

There had been one unintended consequence to Amelia’s clean-up campaign in the Ministry. Lucius Malfoy’s first visit to the post-Fudge Ministry just days after the Basilisk’s destruction had been frustrating to the extreme for the wizard. He’d been openly shunned by many he’d encountered, and finally warned off by a former acquaintance because simply talking to Lucius invited DMLE scrutiny these days. He was officially persona non grata, to the delight of many he’d treated badly over the years.

Malfoy had returned home early and in a foul mood. He’d lost his temper at the sight of the wildly grinning house-elf who apparently was gloating over his failures. Malfoy had torn off his gloves, and flung them at Dobby, shouting, “Get out of my sight, you fool. In fact, get out of my house as well.”

Dobby had caught the gloves, then exclaimed in delight, “Master has given Dobby clothes! Dobby is free!”

The elf had popped out of sight at that second and never returned to Malfoy Manor again. However, the quick announcement he’d made to Harry and friends sitting beside Black Lake, had led to his employment in the Hogwarts kitchens. But more surprisingly, he appeared in the Enklabe moments after Harry left on the Hogwarts Express at the end of his final year.

He’d popped up in the courtyard of Ringstar and Firelock’s home. After explaining that he didn’t want to stay at Hogwarts without his Harry Potter sir, Dobby had commented that he’d greatly appreciated the fact that they’d treated him with respect when he’d tried to relay information about the diary five years before and that he would like to work for Harry Potter sir’s parents.

A bit bemused by the situation, and not hugely in need of a house-elf, they’d accommodated the brave creature nonetheless, giving him a small room off the kitchen, a neat uniform of his choice that resembled a Muggle butler’s outfit, two Galleons a week, and Saturdays off, essentially the same deal Minerva had given him, but with a much fought over pay-raise. Dobby was then given a few chores around the house, but mostly spent his time doing little things for the Elders, such as running errands, cooking a meal here or there, and generally providing good company to those who lived alone. It was the perfect job for such a gregarious elf, and everyone accepted that Dobby would want to spend time with Harry and his friends when the chance arose, so they never minded if schedules were rearranged sometimes. He was a valued part of the family, even to this day.

~0~0~

Speeches over, in the Great Hall, attention turned to the lavish dinner provided by the house-elves. At the High Table, Minerva sat in the central seat for the last time, though unlike her predecessor, her chair was no different to any of the other professors. Some of her favourite people were arrayed along the table, with many of the staff sitting with friends and family at the tables below.

Harkening back to the long-ago birthday party for Harry and Neville at the Longbottom’s Hawthorn House, Augusta and Amelia flanked Minerva, with Xeno Lovegood and Garreth Lloyd also enjoying the party. Soraya, Firelock, and Ringstar were in attendance, along with Filius, Pomona, Severus and Poppy. Even Ragnok and Wildspur, who’d become dear friends over the years, had joined the party as well. Surprisingly Dobby had also been invited and had turned up formally dressed in a mini-tuxedo complete with top hat. He was, not surprisingly, attracting quite a lot of attention.

Over the past thirty years, thanks to the influence of Harry and his family, members of the Guduriak clan mingled quite freely with certain sections of the wizarding world. Ragnok even had a standing invitation to attend Wizengamot meetings, and speak of topics of mutual interest, thanks largely to his protection of the Boy-Who-Lived, and his role in Voldemort’s destruction.

Gesturing discreetly to the large table before them, that held Harry and Neville’s families, Minerva commented, “You know, I don’t think we ever settled those bets on when that lot would get together did we?”

Filius chuckled and responded, “Not directly, though we did all benefit. It was such a ridiculous bet in the first place because it was utterly a foregone conclusion. I threw the money into the bar fund for their joint engagement party.”

The burst of laughter from the Head Table had drawn Harry’s attention. When no explanation was forthcoming, he just returned to his conversation with Neville, shaking his head at the antics of the so-called elders.

For the bets had indeed been ridiculous. Luna had thrived on jumping from first to third year. Like the rest of the study group participants, she’d done exceedingly well on the exams and had definitely earned her place in the class.

She and Harry had grown increasingly close over the following years, though given their ages, Harry insisted on being a gentleman and waiting until Luna was fifteen to ask to date her. Susan was much more fortnight though. She’d asked Neville to be her boyfriend on the Hogwarts Express, as they’d headed north at the start of their fourth year, and the two had never looked back.

Both couples had remained exclusive through their Hogwarts years, and the boys had coordinated proposing during the Leaving Feast, much to the amusement of their fellow students and all of the teachers. But they’d all wanted to wait a little to get married because they had careers to establish first.

For Susan, her career choice was easy. She’d headed to the magical law programme at Cambridge and followed her aunt into practising law within the DMLE. Most of her friends expected her to take over the role of Minister for Magic when Amelia finally retired.

Neville’s career choice was no surprise either. He’d apprenticed to a Master Herbologist in southern Wales for three years after graduating from Hogwarts then taken up teaching Herbology to the junior students the moment Minerva had approached him about the job. He had been Head of Herbology and Hufflepuff House since Pomona’s retirement, with two teachers and a teaching assistant under him, and couldn’t imagine a better job.

Susan and Neville had a boy and a girl, who’d both done well at Hogwarts, with their son Micah following in the Herbology tradition. Thanks to his parents’ and Augusta’s help, he had purchased a farm that had come up for sale, bordering Hawthorn House. He’d warded it with Soraya’s help and expanded it with Ches’ assistance, those two finally having figured out they were more than best friends. Micah was now making a name for himself in producing high-quality plants for both gardeners and potioneers and was always wandering around various Enklabeak, looking for new and exotic plants.

Neville and Susan’s daughter Eliane had only graduated Hogwarts three years before and had taken a gap year, becoming the teaching assistant in the Potions department. She’d struggled a little to find her direction in life but had finally made her mind up, and to everyone’s amazement, had been accepted as Severus Snape’s apprentice. There’d been some serious money lost on the fact that he hasn’t selected a Slytherin for the first apprenticeship. Severus had just smiled enigmatically. The girl was a natural brewer and had the extensive knowledge of potions ingredients you’d expect of a Longbottom. She would do exceedingly well, he believed.

Harry and Luna had married at the completion of their own apprenticeships and training programmes. Luna, always interested in magical creatures, some of which may or may not be visible to anyone but herself, had studied for four years with the Scamanders, and returned to Hogwarts as the junior teacher for Care of Magical Creatures, and to take further training under Professor Grubbly-Plank. She’d been running the programme for over fifteen years now, and the elective was both exciting and well-managed; not to mention highly popular. When she’d been appointed Head of Ravenclaw House on Filius’ retirement, Luna had received a standing ovation in the Great Hall.

Harry had struggled to decide what career to choose throughout his Hogwarts years. He’d learned basic Warding under Soraya, and Darksteel had even taken him under his wing and taught him some basic Curse-Breaking. But what had emerged, from his travels to the various Enklabeak, was a great love for languages. Not just his Dragon Speak and Parseltongue, though he’d mentored others in those over the years. It had, however, been all those trips to Amsterdam that had opened his eyes, along with the ease with which he’d learned Gudurian.

Utilising various potions and spells that accelerated his natural language abilities, and from third year on, Harry spent as much time as possible travelling to different countries and immersing himself in various cultures. He went on to a mixed Muggle and magical university in London, to study languages and teaching, emerging with a joint degree four years later. By that point, in addition to his three magical languages, he was also fluent in Dutch, Welsh, French, Italian, German and Norwegian. It turned out that Harry was a natural polyglot, and soaked up languages with ridiculous ease.

He’d been snapped up by Minerva in a heartbeat upon graduation from university. The Headmistress had always wanted to run a language programme at the school, knowing that British magicals tended towards insularity, and wanting to broaden her students’ horizons.

They’d started with French, German, Italian and Gudurian, with the classes offered at the beginner level to any student from any year who wished to join in. The elective was very popular, and at the start of the second year, they were racing to engage additional instructors to meet the onrush of requests to join the classes. Within a decade, taking a language class through OWL levels was a mandatory core requirement, and the language department was one of the largest in the school.

The sudden retirement seven years before, due to ill health, of the Transfiguration professor and Head of Gryffindor, had placed Minerva in an awkward position of having to fill both positions again, all at once. The new Transfiguration professor she’d selected was a fairly recent graduate of her Mastery programme and had studied at Beauxbatons, so was not at all familiar with the culture of Hogwarts. Minerva knew that to ask her to take on a Head of House role would needlessly overwhelm the poor woman.

But that left her without a former Gryffindor to offer the position to. Casting her eye around the staff room as she considered her options, she gave Harry a second look. He was the son of two Gryffindors, and remained in frequent contact with two more, in the persons of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin who’d made good lives for themselves in America and visited occasionally.

Not to mention he’d done well organising a new department from the ground up, and was known to be an innovative problem solver who was often sought out by his students for advice. Making her mind up, she invited Harry to her office and offered him the position. To say he’d been shocked was an understatement, but Luna had added her weight to Minerva’s argument, and Harry had accepted the position, exceeding every expectation she’d had for him in the role.

Truthfully, Minerva had a very soft spot for her Heads of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry and Luna had always made her feel part of the family, making her godmother to their first daughter, Maya Minerva. Susan had been given the honour for their second child two years later when Selene Susan had arrived. And Filius had turned literal cartwheels at being asked to be godfather to Jacob Filius. Young Jacob would be starting his seventh year, a Hufflepuff like his father, come September, just as Harry would take his new position.

For indeed, Harry would be the new Headmaster in the coming school year. Minerva had been grooming him for the role from the moment he’d started teaching, knowing he’d been developing the skills to lead the school from his first days at Hogwarts when the Harry and Co group had formed, and gone on to be leaders amongst their peers.

Gazing down at her successor, she gave Harry the look. They’d kept his appointment as a surprise from all but his closest family, which was why he’d been seated with friends and family, instead of at the Head Table.

“Is it time then?” he mouthed the question silently, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention.

A crisp nod was the only answer he needed, then he took a moment to find his centre. The moment had come. Luna gave his hand a comforting squeeze, as Minerva moved to the podium and cast a Sonorous.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honour to announce and welcome the person who will take over the reins of Hogwarts School, for the coming school year. I know I was very pleased and proud when he accepted the position. Please join me in a round of applause for your new Headmaster, Professor Harry Potter!”

Harry moved up to the dais and stood at the podium Minerva had just relinquished to him, gazing out over the hundreds of well-wishers who were applauding , and his friends and family who would be there to support him every step of the way. He’d made enormous strides from that young, abused eleven-year-old, seeking allies during his first visit to Gringotts, and creating lifelong friendships during his first few days within the castle. He took a deep breath, looked down at the speech he’d prepared, and then took his first deliberate steps into the role he’d likely wear for the rest of his working life, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry just smiled, and thought it was indeed a good day to be alive. And then he strode into his future.

~0~0~

“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.”

Attributed to Winston Churchill

Minerva McGonagall, contemplating retirement, 2023

~0~0~

Fin

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