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The Fight of the Fallen by SiriusAura92
Chapter 6 : 6- The Final Resting Place
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 3

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6- The Final Resting Place

Harry stepped out of the fireplace of Number Twelve and a certain pang of grief struck him as he looked around. His home looked as though it had been deserted years ago, completely empty and still showing signs of the fight that had forced his family to abandon the house.

He ran around to the entrance and found the door was ajar. Looking up and down the street, he saw no signs of Lawrence or the others and prayed that they had made it to Andromeda’s. But as Harry walked onto the pavement of Grimmauld Place and began to turn on the spot, eyes closed, he thought not of the cosy house, but of the pristine village of Hogsmeade. As the cracking sound left his ears, he opened his eyes again to see the empty village.

Hoping the shop he needed was still open, he began to walk as he pulled his Invisibility Cloak out. Harry walked at least half a mile before he saw another person and when he did, he was glad he had his cloak on as two of the three men wore the sign of the Deathly Hallows around their necks whereas the third was Gregory Goyle still dressed in dirty Azkaban clothes. Although Harry was sure that he recognised the tall, pale, twisted faced figure of the necklace wearing duo, he could not place where.

“Ve should head back, Kristain. There’s no sign of the survivors anyvere here and if they are in the school, it’s going to take a lot more than what there are of us to get through.” Said the squat man next to Kristain in an unmistakable Norwegian accent.

“Mosby said he vould send more of us here later and that ve should patrol here until then. Although, I must admit, it vould help if ve veren’t going in circles.” Kristain remarked to Goyle in a harsh gravelly voice.

“I told you. I haven’t been here in years. I’m a little rusty in directions.” Goyle retaliated in a voice that sounded so horse Harry wouldn’t have been surprised to find out he hadn’t spoken since his imprisonment.

“A little thick in the head is more like it.” Kristain sniggered just loud enough for his friend to hear as the three walked off.
Harry’s heart lifted. They hadn’t been able to get into the school yet.

Turning right at the end of the road, Harry saw the shop he sought out. The brightly coloured sweet shop, Honeydukes. He was grateful to see the shop was open as he did not fancy breaking in with the possibility of drawing the attention of the other guards that would be wandering the village. Seeing that no one was at the counter, he placed a silencing charm on the golden bell above him and crept in. As he walked to the back of the shop, he heard the conversation of the owners as they came up from the basement.

“I’m telling you, Ambrosius, we need to leave the country before things end up like last time.”

“And I’m telling you, Darleen, that I agree you should leave but I need to stay here.” The elderly man told his wife. “This shop was the only good thing in those brave young soul’s lives when You-Know-Who reigned and I will be damned if I’m to abandon the youngsters this time.” As the two continued to argue, he crept passed them towards the basement.

When he made it to the colourful sweet filled cellar, he scanned the floor for the entrance to the passage. With a jolt, he found it and, as quickly as he could, he lifted opened the door and scrambled into the tunnel.

The tunnel took just as long to walk as Harry remembered and he was glad to find it had not been filled in but when he finally did reach the end, he felt a small amount of unrequited excitement as he tapped the stone with his wand and climbed out of the One-eyed Witch’s hump. Harry remembered the last time he was within the Hogwarts, giving the students a lecture on Defence Against the Dark Arts and showing them practical spells in a practice duel against Neville. Harry twitched a smile at the memory as he began making his way through the corridors and reached the moving staircase.

Although he knew that what he was about to do would be the hardest thing he’d have to do all day, he couldn’t help but feel a slight amount of joy at being back in the castle. Its stone walls gleaming from the summer sun pouring through large stain-glass windows and its decorative suits of armour and portraits all unaware of his presence due to his cloak.
Then, as he reached the bottom of the staircase, the joy seemed to flicker as what the Honeydukes owner had said sank in. Would the students here now have the same torturous experience as Neville, Ginny and the rest of the others had had when the Death Eaters were in charge. With McGonagall and Neville gone, would the new Ministry supply the school with murderous teachers or simply neglect the school, being too focussed on their war against the Confederation. Harry secretly hopped for the later, knowing that the other professors would sooner give up their wands before abandoning the school.
With a wave of his wand, the main doors opened and fresh air hit him in the face.

After a number of minutes crossing the castle’s lush green grounds, Hagrid’s hut eventually came into view. Harry knew that, had he been able to get there, Hagrid too would have joined the rest of the Order of the Phoenix at the Ministry but as it was Harry could see his large outline through one of the hut’s windows. He started veering more towards the left and as the white marble tomb came into view. The thought of Hagrid’s reaction to what Harry was about to do entered Harry’s mind and he became fully aware that he was still wearing his cloak.

The tomb of his old headmaster gleamed in the afternoon sun and when he touched it, it was warm and smooth to the touch.
“I’m so sorry, Professor.” Harry said, his voice cracking slightly. “But if I don’t, Akrahn Colby will.” But saying this just made him feel worse as the information he had received in exchange for the location of the Hallows ended up working against them.
Taking a deep breath, Harry raised his wand and began undoing the many enchantments that were placed around the tomb then, with a final flick of his wand, the lid of the tomb rose into the air and moved to one side. Harry took another deep breath before peering in. There, peacefully resting was the remains of Albus Dumbledore. Harry was surprised at how fresh the corpse looked despite being dead for ten years with the face only a little more sunken and paler then when Harry had last seen it and the hands only slightly more bony.

Harry’s heart gave a sharp jolt and his body forced him to take a third deep intake of air as, when he looked at what was being held in the skinny pale hands, he realised that he had not been the first one here. Although a wand was being held by the headmaster and, from what Harry could tell, an elder wood wand at that, it was not the wand he had replaced there all those years ago.

Harry stumbled back, his heart beating faster than it had done all day, the urge to swear loudly was almost unbearable. How could this have happened? Who could’ve done this? But who could’ve done this? Harry asked himself. Akrahn was still at the Scandinavian Ministry and the only other people in the world who knew of the wand’s hiding place were Ron, Hermione and Ginny.
Harry also had a sneaking suspicion that Naomi was a possible suspect behind this too for the others did not know that Harry had told Akrahn of the hiding place in exchange for information on the Dark Wizards. But that still did not explain what reason they’d have for breaking into Hogwarts, disturbing Dumbledore’s tomb and taking the Elder wand without Harry’s say so. Surely they’d have felt he deserve a say.

‘However’, a small voice in Harry’s head said ‘Of those four, only Hermione would have been able to have breached the tomb’s enchantments. She’s alive.’
Harry’s head began pounding painfully but he knew he had to make a move. No doubt Lawrence and the others had arrived at Andromeda’s, hopefully, with Cho’s boyfriend. He had done what had needed to be done; made sure that the Elder Wand was out of Akrahn’s reach. And with this in mind he waved his wand and the marble lid floated back to its original place and sealed itself before Harry began placing the enchantments back upon the resting place.
Harry then turned back towards the castle and began his walk back.


As the sounds of the eruptions from the floors above died down, Mosby continued to stare at the fireplace. Despite the fact that Harry Potter had vanished through there a good ten minutes ago now, it seemed to be the only thing he could do. He was bound tightly by ropes that despite his best efforts he could not break, Bailey remained unconscious on the floor and three of his guards were currently gazing gormlessly into space. He was beginning to think that shouting for help would be his only option when he heard someone try to open his door.

“It’s locked.” He heard a voice say from outside.
“Well then where is he?” He heard a second, more familiar voice ask. Umbridge had obviously left her hiring post to come and look for him.

“Come in!” He cried loudly but it appeared that they could not hear him.

“He could already be there, ma’am, or he could be with Cade Bowton.”
“Well go and find him then.” The voices were becoming muffled and Mosby assumed Potter had placed some sort of charm over the door so no one outside could hear. Mosby shouted in frustration and anger and when he finished, he saw Bailey begin to stir.

“Bailey! Bailey, get up now!”
Bailey slowly turned himself over, the large golden medallion still around his neck, and his eyes seemed to take a moment to focus on Mosby. Eventually, Bailey grabbed the bottom shelf of the bookcase he had banged his head against and pulled himself to his feet.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Potter,” Mosby replied in a growl. “Now, untie me.” Bailey seemed to take a moment to realise what he was asking before nodding his head. He delved his hand into his pocket and his face dropped.

“Where’s my wand?” He asked patting himself all over.

“Potter.” Mosby repeated in more frustrated tone of growl then before.
Bailey hurried over to Mosby, picking up a quill off the desk as he did so and began hacking at the binds with it. After several minutes, Mosby felt the rope weaken and with a final tug, he broke his binds and walked straight towards the door. After realising the door would not open from this side either, Mosby screamed in anger and shouldered the door as hard as he could, breaking through it. As he did so, he saw Umbridge addressing the rest of the Ministry staff on this floor. Meng, the towering Chinese man at least two and a half times Umbridge’s size, right next to her.

“Minister-?” Umbridge started but Mosby cut across her.
“Get me Felicia, Cade and Marietta!” He ordered loudly.

“Minister, our Auror Office was atta-”

“I KNOW!” Mosby shouted at her. “Now bring them down to me, now!” Umbridge shook slightly as she nodded and she went off to find the others.
Minutes later, she returned with Morgana and Felicia on either side of her. “Where’s Marietta? And where’s Cade?” Mosby asked threateningly.

“We found her unconscious in her office.” Morgana replied disbelievingly. “She claims she was attacked and disarmed by Harry Potter.”

A vain pounded visibly on Mosby’s temple and Felicia’s eyes narrowed. “Did you see Potter?”

Mercifully, Mosby was spared answering Felicia by the arrival of Cade Bowton running through the Department. “I returned as soon as I heard. What-?” But Mosby had launched himself at Cade, punching him hard in the stomach before pinning him against the wall by the throat.

“Where the bloody hell were you?” Mosby said through gritted teeth and taking deep breathes in-between words.

“I was- Weasley’s- Can’t-” Cade spluttered as his face began to change colour.

“So, as Potter broke into the Ministry, assaulted and cursed our workers, took their wands and broke out all of our remaining prisoners you were running around a joke shop?” Mosby hissed and Mosby saw Cade’s eyes widen as his face began to change colour from lack of breath. “Well, I’m so glad I gave you such an important position.” Cade quickly attempted to try and draw his wand but, as soon as he pulled it from his pocket, Mosby grabbed hold of it and yanked it from his grip. Mosby then threw Cade into a clutter of desks as the rest of the department watched, a few sniggering at Cade’s humiliation including Meng. “How many dead from the attack?” Mosby asked feeling his assault on Cade satisfying his anger a little.

“None.” Morgana answered calmly, looking at her brother. “But very few immerged unharmed and there are many serious conditions. We think he used an unstable Fervens Potion so the flames that were scattered from the first explosion exploded and so on.” Mosby’s swollen lip twitched as she explained this.
“I want them.” Mosby murmured.

“You want-?” Umbridge started.
“I WANT THEM ALL! POTTER, THE REMAINING REBALS, ALL OF THEM DEAD!” Mosby screamed in anger. “I don’t care if you have to search every inch of the country, I want no prisoners. I. Want. Them. DEAD!” The entire department was staring at Mosby with a combination of looks.
“I’m sorry, did I not make myself clear?” Mosby said sarcastically. “We now have no Auror Department and I want Potter and his friends dead. MOVE!”
Morgana then led the entire room out of the department shortly followed by Cade, who limped slightly as he walked away.

“I take it Potter’s little visit upset you then.” Felicia mocked as she examined the broken door. “And why are Runcorn, Dugson and Prims standing in circle in your office?” Mosby turned to look at them. Bailey was attempting to snap them out of the curse, without means of a wand, by waving his hand in front of their eyes before slapping them across the cheek. “Bailey, where’s your wand?” Felicia asked, sparing a glance at Mosby as Bailey left a red hand print on Runcorn’s face. Bailey hesitated looking from Mosby’s contorted face to Felicia’s cheek fuelled grin.

“Yes, Felicia, I will be needing a new wand.” Bailey responded as though this was a suitable answer.

“Get back to your department and get making more medallions and tell Naldo to stop hogging all the equipment he brought.” Mosby ordered through gritted teeth. “And when that’s done, send word to Akrahn and Marius about the Medals and that Potter knows about the Peace Treaties. Tell them to respond to me ASAP. I have a special errand for them.” Bailey nodded quickly as he murmured the list of instructions to himself and scurried out, the large gold medal bouncing on his chest as he did so.

“The Metamorph Medals work then?” Umbridge asked in disbelief and Mosby nodded.

“Bailey actually figured out a way to make them work. Hopefully that should shut Akrahn’s mouth for a few days.” Mosby then glowered at Meng who towered before him. “Which reminds me that you have still yet to organise who is going with you!” Meng glared back at Mosby looking as though he would like nothing better than to crush Mosby’s head with his large, muscular, vainy hands before silently turning away and leaving the department.
Mosby looked between the two that remained, forcing himself to calm down to clear his mind. But Potter’s grinning face kept popping into mind repeating the phrases “Anger issues” and “Calm one moment and off the rails the next”. Those comments had haunted him for nearly a decade.

“When Marietta is healed,” Mosby said eventually. “I don’t care if you have to work through the night, sus out the locations they could be hiding and then burn them all to the ground.”

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