Chapter 20
The last of the memory faded as everyone stared at the pensieve as if it would get up and bite them all. It was nearing the two month mark for Harcourt’s pregnancy, and the morning sickness had abated quite a bit since Narcissa helped him restructure his dietary needs. After the threat had arrived, the Malfoy matriarch decided to postpone the shower until they could find the spy in the Ministry and get rid of him or her. “Who knows about the baby, besides everyone in this room?” Draco asked angrily. Along with he and his husband were both young men’s parents, Minister Riddle, the twins and their fiancées, Neville and his wife Luna, Blaise and Theo.
Both young men had escaped the slaughter of the Slytherins that had been committed by Albus Dumbledore, before his Order of the Dragon became fugitives. Snape-Potter and Malfoy hadn’t attended Hogwarts, yet the Slytherins who had befriended him, through Draco, had been slaughtered for supporting the young man as he tried to live his life out from under Dumbledore’s heavy thumb. “Just Harry and Draco and their parents,” Neville remarked wryly, “until now. It has to be someone skulking around the Ministry; a double agent, if you will.”
“Shacklebolt,” James barked suddenly, startling everyone in the room with his exclamation. “I’ve had quite a few arguments with the man about the sensibility of joining ‘the right side’ in this continuing conflict. It never occurred to me that he was one of those preferred Gryffindors who were encouraged to join the Aurors and spy on things for Albus.”
“It couldn’t be him,” Tom remarked logically. “He’s an intimidating figure and is easily spotted. Thanks, though, for the heads-up, and if you know of any of Dumbledore’s other spies, let me know so that we can keep an eye on them, and take them out of the picture when we’re ready.”
“Maybe Tonks?” Harry suggested hesitantly. All eyes turned to him, and he blushed under the attention. “I mean, when I talked to aunt Andromeda, she was really disappointed that her daughter joined that lunatic and his merry band of misfits, and I remember meeting her a couple of times, and watching as she used her metamorphmagus abilities to entertain me.”
“I remember that, too,” Draco agreed with a scowl. “She was a fun cousin to have, before that old man got his hooks into her. She could, logically, be anyone she wanted, and no one would even know it was her.”
“All very useful information,” the Minister remarked happily. “I’ll have John Dawlish and Gawain Robards keep an eye on the both of them. Hopefully Shacklebolt will do something that’ll get him incarcerated whilst we investigate him, but I want to get as much pensieve and photographic evidence as possible for our resident spy, Nymphadora Tonks.”
“Now that Dumbledore knows, Harry and Draco won’t be able to go anywhere,” Luna offered sadly.
“Not true,” Blaise finally spoke up. Both he and Theo tended to stay on the outskirts of the gatherings, unsure of their welcome since they survived the massacre. “My mother gave me one of the villas Father had left her before he was assassinated by the Order of the Dragon, to use as I saw fit. It’s located in Florence, and has both family wards and goblin ones. Theo and I live there much of the time, but if Draco and Harry ever need somewhere to which to escape for a while, you’re both more than welcome.”
“Thank you, Blaise,” Draco murmured quietly. “Still doesn’t solve the problem of being able to go out shopping for baby things, though.”
“I know that polyjuice would hurt the baby,” Theo remarked with a grin, “but you forget that Italy has no treaty with Great Britain, and they also don’t appreciate the way that the Malfoys and Potters have been treated in the past. We have quite a few allies that would be more than willing to chaperone the both of you, so you won’t be trapped inside all the time.”
“That’s a relief,” Harry quipped with a grin at his Slytherin friends. “I think we should get together in a few days and work out a schedule.”
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December 15, 1998
The Daily Prophet
THREATS TO UNBORN CHILDREN MADE!
Has the Dark Lord Dumbledore no shame?!
Murphy Brown, reporter
In what can only be called a desperate act of an insane megalomaniac, Dark Lord Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who has undeservedly claimed every single name of Merlin as his own, has lost the plot somewhere. He had the unmitigated gall to send a threatening letter to Harcourt James Snape-Malfoy, via his parents-in-law, stating that he had one month to turn himself in to the Dark Lord for termination of ‘that spawn in your belly’ and that it was ‘unnatural’ since, according to the Dark Lord, men can’t get pregnant. Did he forget that his own lover, Gellert Grayson Grindelwald, had become pregnant before the old man assassinated him? Did he forget that Magic will sometimes bless a special sort of young man to be a natural bearer? If this is how he truly feels, then we know why he assassinated his lover.
Yes, dear readers, you read that right. The fabled ‘battle’ that Dumbledore used to become a revered hero to the masses was faked. Grindelwald refused to follow the script, and his enraged lover murdered him and his unborn baby for his disobedience and his ‘unnaturalness’. Gellert Grayson Grindelwald loved Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore with his whole heart, and received a death sentence for his troubles.
The Dark Lord Dumbledore threatened to kill the young man’s family, as well, according to the memories of the pseudo-howler that Lord Snape-Malfoy’s mother-in-law sent us. “It was the strangest thing,” she told this reporter in an exclusive interview. “The owl was nearly human in its behavior, and it took all I had not to laugh and offend the poor creature. I took the letter, thinking that it was from the caterer; I was planning Harcourt’s baby shower after all, and when it opened, that venomous diatribe spewed out.” Below is the missive, printed verbatim. This reporter only hopes that the young man and his unborn child are safe enough.
“I know about the spawn in your belly, and I will see it terminated for the unnatural thing that it is. Human men cannot get pregnant. That you have only proves that you’re a halfbreed; the offspring of an affair between your mother and some random creature, I have no doubt. It also explains how and why your parents wandered off of the path of righteousness; you are an unnatural thing that has undue influence over all the humans with whom you come into contact.
“If you come to me now and surrender yourself, I will see that you have a merciful death. You cannot be allowed to live. Your wrongness offends the very gods and goddesses to whom we owe our lives and our magic. If you do not come to me within the month, I will have no choice but to eliminate everyone who has been poisoned by your influence, and then I will make your death as long and as painful as I can.”
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“Well, our numbers are diminishing,” Dumbledore announced as he looked at his minions sternly. It was nearing the deadline that Albus had given Harcourt to turn himself in for disposal, and the old man was anxious to be seen as doing something proactive against Riddle and his forces. “Kingsley Shacklebolt was assassinated a few days ago by Aurelius Mulciber.” The anger in their leader’s voice was audible, and his furious magic churned around him, uncontrolled. “He was caught with too many secrets from the Ministry and Tom’s meetings to be proper for a mere Auror, and Riddle decided to sent Hit Wizards after the young man. He gave them quite a tough time in taking him down, but he finally succumbed to his injuries.”
“How do you know, Albus?” Hestia Jones queried, voice quivering in fear.
“I was sent his death certificate, most likely by Tom himself, as his way of gloating about our missing compatriot. Nymphadora Tonks was arrested for illegally using her metamorphmagus abilities to spy on confidential meetings between the Minister and his staff.”
“I told you not to do that,” Mundungus Fletcher snapped angrily. “I told you that using that young kid to spy on the Minister would end up horribly. Why don’t you ever listen to anyone else’s counsel, Albus? If you had, we might not be in this mess.”
“It is not my fault that our members are being murdered,” Dumbledore began to justify himself. He was interrupted by a most unexpected voice.
“Ah, but it is, Albie,” Aberforth remarked with a shark’s grin as he entered the house in Mould on the Wold. “It is very much your fault that eager, idealistic young men and women are dying for your pointless cause. If you’d just taken the smack on the nose that you’d earned before all this began, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“What are you doing here, Abe?” his older brother snapped. He didn’t want to listen to a catalogue of his sins again, but he knew that nothing would stop his brother once he got started.
“I’ve come to tell you that you’ll have to find another place to meet,” the younger Dumbledore answered with a shrug. “The Aurors are on their way here to arrest you lot, so you’d better get moving.”
“Did you turn us in?” Moody snarled, his magical eye spinning round and round, watching everything around them.
“I did not,” Aberforth denied vehemently. “I just happened to be in the Hog’s Head a few hours ago when I heard some of the professors talking about an Auror raid on this very home. Apparently, they were finally able to get access to our family records and found out about this house. The goblins seem to be rather eager to help the Minister out. It couldn’t possibly be because he and his staff are willing to acknowledge that magical creatures have rights, could it? Anyway, you need to leave before they get here.”
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“Damn,” Corban Yaxley growled as he and Vespasian Avery Jr. looked around the now empty hovel angrily. “We just missed them.” He gestured to the fireplace, where the recently extinguished coals were still smoking. “It appears there’s another informant, either in the Ministry or somewhere else our people visit.”
“Doesn’t Dumbledore’s brother own that shabby pub in Hogsmeade?” Barty Crouch Jr. asked curiously as he joined his compatriots inside the house.
“He does,” Calisto Goyle agreed with a frown. “You don’t think he’s been reporting our movements to his brother, do you? I always thought things were a bit tense between those two ever since their little sister died by ‘accidental’ means.” The man used air quotes around the word accidental, knowing that his coworkers would get the inference.
“I think they made peace after Dumbledore killed Grindelwald,” Altair Crabbe told everyone. They’d gathered as much evidence as they could to prove that the Order of the Dragon was still active, and were getting ready to return to the Ministry and report their findings to Riddle. “I think Aberforth blamed Grindelwald for the argument and the resulting firefight that cost Ariana her life. We all know that Dumbledore didn’t kill his lover in revenge for the youngest child’s death, but I think, because Aberforth is desperate to hang on to the last of his family, he’d overlook just about anything and justify it in his own mind to ease his own guilt in that tragedy.”
“Well,” Yaxley interrupted the conversation before it could go any further, “we’ve found all we’re going to here, so let’s get going. Maybe something will show up in the bits we collected that’ll tell us to where they'd moved on.” They all trooped out of the house, with Crouch Jr. turning as soon as the last man left the building and pulling his wand. He pointed it at the decrepit old building and incanted, “Incendio,” gleefully watching along with the others as it burned.
“I kinda wish we’d brought some marshmallows,” Goyle quipped with a malicious smile. “Hell, we could even sing some of those old campfire songs.” There was vicious laughter at the man’s comments, but Mulciber put an end to their enjoyment of a job well done.
“That’s enough, men. It’s fine to kick a man whilst he’s down, but that man actually has to be here for it to be effective and fun.”