(Y/N)'s POV

"Mafalda!" said Umbridge, looking at Hermione. "Travers sent you, did he?" "Y-yes," squeaked Hermione. "Good, you'll do perfectly well."

Umbridge spoke to the wizard in black and gold. "That's that problem solved, Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway." She consulted her clipboard.

"Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee! Tut, tut . . . even here, in the heart of the Ministry!" She stepped into the lift beside Hermione, as did the two wizards who had been listening to Umbridge's conversation with the Minister.

"We'll go straight down, Mafalda, you'll find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, aren't you getting out?" "Yes, of course," said Harry in Runcorn's deep voice. Harry stepped out of the lift.

We went down a floor back into the Auror office and the golden grille slid open again, I was trying desperately to think of an excuse to stay on the elevator and ride it down with them but I was interrupted.

"Well Dawlish, out you get dear" she said sweetly to me as if she was talking to a toddler. I nodded and shuffled out too. "Thank you, Dolores," I said, leaving a horrible taste in my mouth.

The golden grilles clanged shut behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Hermione's anxious face sinking back out of sight, a tall wizard on either side of her, Umbridge's velvet hair-bow level with her shoulder.

It was quite difficult to walk away and ignore the urge to stick to Hermione like glue, especially with the added worry that came with the idea of her of all people getting caught right now, but I steeled myself and got ready to do what I came for.

Now all I had to do if find my way to the Auror Office. I was so thankful that Dawlish was tall, I mean it was still a change, he wasn't as tall as me, but I would have given up by now if I had to waddle around the Ministry as someone Harry's size or smaller, I'd get stepped on or something.

Mum always complained a lot about her commute, so I kind of knew where I was going. I was given some comfort by the thought of Mum having to shuffle through the other Aurors, almost all of them were taller than her.

Then I found the landmark I was looking for, Mum had mentioned it once or twice. The cubicles that made up the Auror Headquarters. I wondered which one was hers? I looked around and was dumbfounded, it looked both professional and unprofessional at the same time.

Pictures of known muggle-borns and dark wizards, maps, clippings from the Daily Prophet, and other odds and ends that laid strewn about the rest of the workspace. There was a wall left untouched by all the clutter.

There were words "In Memory of the Fallen" and beneath the words was a set of names and little pictures to go with them, some of them simple unmoving pictures or just names, others for the more outspoken were pictures of waving and happy faces.

It hurt to know that the fate of these people had all been so grim, but the memorial did bring me some comfort. Under the portraits were another set of words "Gone but never forgotten."

I saw loads of names I didn't recognise and sadly a few I did, I'm not even going to pretend I wasn't looking for her name because I was. In my head it was meant to miraculously spark an epiphany upon seeing it.

After a few idle seconds of scanning names I found it, clear as day. (M/N) (L/N). Above it was a stunningly pretty picture of her, with a wide grin and a cheeky little wink at the camera. It was weird, it was almost as if she knew it was me.

It was the same smile I was used to seeing as she walked through the door to greet me, her eyes seemed to be looking into mine. Maybe I was being nostalgic and sentimental, but it still brought me nothing but joy.

To my disappointment, try as I might, I couldn't seem to find a gruff and grumbling picture of Moody, I suppose it was to do with the cover up of his death.

It still made me feel sick, he was one of the best Aurors, one of the best people, to ever live, he deserved to be here at least. Among his peers.

I promised myself that once this was all over, I was going to get him a spot on this wall, right beside Mum, so they could watch over the Ministry together, laughing at the fresh faced new Aurors to come after them. Or glaring in Moody's case.

"Alright there Dawlish. did you just have too many at the Leaky Cauldron? Get confunded again?" laughed an unfamiliar voice. "What's it to you?" I said to the voice, turning to see a man wearing scarlet red robes and a long pony tail. Williamson I believe his name was

He just laughed and moved on, I figured I'd best do the same to keep up appearances. It took me a few minutes to find Dawlish's desk, it was messy and unorganised. It would have given Hermione heart failure at the amount of scrunched up and dog eared documents piled on his desk.

I sat down to think, I had to get to Umbridge and then wait for the others, but I'm not sure how. I mean the whole point of different sectors of the Ministry is that everyone stayed in their own lane, I had no reason to go and see Umbridge.

I needed to think of a legitimate excuse that wouldn't raise suspicion as to why I was down in the courtrooms with Umbridge, I knew that was where she would be because of her conversation earlier,

The only problem was I didn't know how long she'd be down there for so I had to hurry and get there as quickly as possible, first of all I needed to concentrate on a plan, something I was finding rather difficult.

Everything around me was hectic, enchanted papers flew over my head and around the office, I had stacks of paperwork that I'm sure I was meant to be doing but had absolutely zero understanding of how to do it and I felt like everyone was staring at me, as if they knew I was an impostor.

I knew Kingsley's cubicle was in one of the corners, and since he's the head auror guy, I answer to him right? I think that's how it works; he gives me assignments and stuff. Then I file the report and go and look into it.

I decided to go and get those and then I'd have an excuse to leave the office and search for Umbridge or the others, whatever came first.

As flimsy as this plan was, I still set it into motion, it beat pretending to read old newspaper clippings, after a few seconds of aimlessly wandering to the corners of the room I found the purple robed, bald headed figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Kingsley. Anything for me?" I asked, not knowing if it was the right question or even an appropriate one. He looked at me dead in the eyes with a scowl. "For you? No. I'm sure you have plenty to be getting on with."

That was entirely unhelpful. "Fine," I said stupidly, quickly turning on my heel and power walking back to my desk. Where I pretended to do paperwork for a while. Really I was just doodling.

Kingsley approached my desk a short time later, holding a file. "Dawlish, I stand corrected, I need your assistance with the Charity Burbage case. Could you come with me to Records?" Not wanting to cause suspicion, I simply nodded.

We were walking across the Atrium and past that disgusting statue, Kingsley led me to the elevators, I was expecting to take them, but then Kingsley took a sharp left down an otherwise obscured corridor away from the others, I guess this was records.

"After you." He said, pointing me forward, I didn't see any reason to object and walked in front of him. The second I did I felt a slam to the back of my skull and I felt woozy, then as I turned I found Kingsley glaring at me coldly and pointing his wand in my face.

"Whoever you are, you are not John Dawlish." he said firmly, I was stunned, "Don't be ridicul-" I started before he pushed his wand towards me and I was thrown backwards against a wall, "What are you-" I started again but he talked over me.

"-Did you kill him?" he glared at me, and for the first time, I was actually scared of Kingsley. "Leaky Cauldron, room 7, hexed him and tied him up" I explained, he sighed in relief. "Who are you?" he said threateningly.

I shook my head, unable to blow my cover and put the others at risk, he was undoubtedly being watched and any information I fed to him could be intercepted.

He did not like my non compliance and similar to the spell Ron was hit with in the café I was bound head to toe in wires that extended from his wand, they squeezed me tightly and made me remember my horrible experience with a similar spell in the Graveyard.

"I will not ask again." He said, pinning me against the wall harder. So I thought of something. "Mer...lin..." I said with a gasping breath, his eyes seemed to scan me for a lie, then his face shifted into several different emotions at once. He processed this word and quickly let go of me.

"I was under the assumption you were a Death Eater sent to spy on Nymphadora and I, that is why I confronted you alone. If they knew I was on to them it would have spelled more trouble," "What did you hit me with?" I said, rubbing the back of my head.

He didn't answer and instead said "You are lucky I didn't curse you at your...Dawlish's desk" He said in relief. "They are watching us. So, I had to lure you away from prying eyes." I nodded, "What gave me away."

He scoffed, "Everything." I cocked my head. "Charity Burbage has simply 'retired' from her job at Hogwarts. There is no open case on her disappearance within the Ministry. As well as several other discrepancies."

"For example, there is not a simple 'records' department in the ministry. And Robards is Head of the Auror Office now, Dawlish would know that, and he does not report to me, nor has he ever. This attempt at subterfuge was childish and destined to fail." He said harshly.

I felt like a right prat, but at the end of the day, I got what I wanted. Despite what I told Harry and the others, truth was, the Locket was the last thing on my mind, if we could get it today, brilliant, but I wasn't holding my breath.

To be honest I thought this whole plan was stupid, especially rushing it as we did, so I came to the Ministry with a different goal in mind. "Why are you here!" he said under his breath. There was a reason I pushed to be Dawlish and it wasn't because I knew the Auror job description, I had my own agenda.

"For what utterly foolish reason have you assaulted an Auror and broken into the Ministry of Magic!" he said with urgency. "Are the others with you? We didn't see them after the attack." I would have answered but I had my own urgent matter.

"Is he safe?" I said pleadingly, Kingsley nodded. "Got a new job somewhere in La Plata, a small fortune fell on his lap so he moved to a better paying job." I nodded. A huge wave of relief washing over me. "Very lucky."

I placed my hand on his shoulder and gave a brief nod as my way of saying thanks. "I can never repay what you've done for me." "And you will never have to" he smiled at me.

I told him I couldn't tell him why we were here for obvious reasons, but I explained that we were all disguised as Ministry workers but got separated. After I explained, he didn't ask any questions but by instead asking how he could help.

I didn't know if I should tell him, but relented, knowing his help would be invaluable, "Umbridge, get me to Umbridge." He gave a brief nod and shuffled some papers. "Well then, we have work to be doing Dawlish." He said, striding away. I followed him.

He took me back to Auror HQ and waited a few seconds before handing me a file, as I looked at it and the name accompanying it, I was dumbstruck, how could he have known? Or was it sheer dumb luck? With Kingsley, I wasn't sure.

"Dawlish, go find Cattermole from Magical Maintenance Department his wife's trial is today and apparently he's been causing quite the fuss over it, see to it that he doesn't cause any more problems, send him down to meet her."

I nodded, "And give him some persuasion to behave if he needs it, different times nowadays, people need to be careful" he called after me. None of the other Aurors said a word as I darted off. I had nothing but respect and admiration for Kingsley, he was so slick with everything he did.

I read through the file as I strode towards the elevator. Reading up on the Reggie Cattermole, his wife was being accused of being a 'fake witch' due to the fact she was muggle born, this gave the Ministry 'reasonable doubt' of her status as a witch.

This was despite the three pages on her history that clearly explained that she was undoubtedly a witch and had been since the day she was born and had nothing other then her blood status that was any different from any other witch or wizard. I was disgusted.

I had to mask this disgust with indifference when I got into the elevator with a short greying woman who was clearly uncomfortable with my presence. "Morning Dawlish." She said politely, "Morning." I said curtly, because I didn't know her name.

She looked terrified so I tried to put her at ease with small talk, It did not work in the slightest and made her more nervous, I think she thought I was angry, but I suppose my choice of topic didn't help.

"Looking for Cattermole. Seen him?" I asked the short woman. She quickly shook her head, "Haven't I'm afraid, have you tried the Magical Maintenance office." I hadn't, of course I knew Ron was in Yaxleys office, but I had to act as Dawlish would right now.

"Of course I have, do you think I'm that foolish!" I said angrily, she shook her head again. "No, of course not! Silly of me really." She trembled as she spoke. "Think before you speak next time!"

"I-if you don't mind me asking. Why is it your looking for Reg?" she said timidly. "It's his wife's trial today-" she squeaked, "Oh, it is isn't it! Poor woman..." she trailed off. This is where I should have stopped talking and rode the elevator in comfortable silence, but in my nervousness about blowing my cover again I laid it on a little thick.

"I don't blame him. If my wife were accused. I'd try to distance myself as much as I could too." The woman jumped at my voice and said "oh" in a squeaky voice, "Yes."

"Terrible circumstances, I'm afraid, with her status, and her... unpleasant, relationship with Reggie, Azkaban can be the only recourse" I nodded, but then I realised she looked just as uncomfortable as I felt. I resisted the urge to smile.

"Of course, we must uphold Ministry standards, otherwise the world would be plunged into chaos, keep that in mind." I barked. She didn't believe a word she was saying, she just couldn't say anything to dispute it, she had to keep her loved ones safe.

Then I realised I was an idiot, Yaxleys office was on the same floor as the Auror office. I hit the button of the floor I had come from and soon we lurched up to it again, the tannoy woman hadn't even finished announcing my destination as the doors slid open.

"O-oh, this is my floor." I said dumbly, thankfully it worked in my favour as the little witch barely held in a giggle at my departure.

It seems the majority of the Ministry of Magic found it very amusing that poor John Dawlish had been confunded one too many times so any odd behaviours were overlooked, so as I strolled through the auror office again I was only met with laughter and jeering, not suspicion.

I was blowing this whole mission so bad. I walked past Kingsley with my head hung in shame and soon found myself in Yaxley's office as it poured down with rain inside. Sprouting from a thundercloud in the ceiling.

The second I stepped inside Ron bolted upright from his position sitting in a chair and using his wand to make an umbrella as he sat around doing nothing. "I'm just getting to-" he started. I stopped him, "C'mon" I said quickly.

His face drained, "I can get it done please just-" "Ron It's me you prat!" I said as I shut the door behind me, he let out a sigh of relief and nodded "Sorry, forgot what you lot looked like."

"Listen, I have to take you down to the trial room, your...I mean Reggie's wife is having a trial today. Umbridge is overseeing it, I pulled some strings so I could escort you."

"Hermione is down there-" I started. "I know, Harry's heading down there too, I saw him not long ago" "Good, we can take the elevator down to the Department of Mysteries and take the stairs from there."

"Walk in front of me, I have to look proper evil. Look worried" I instructed as I pointed my wand at his back. He nodded "What about Yaxley's office? People will notice. Dad tried to help me, told me to do a Meterology thingy." I shrugged.

"If all goes well and we can snag the thingamajig then it wont matter. Plus, Yaxley's a git anyway, let him drown for all I care. Now let's go see your fake wife."

After a tense walk towards the empty elevator and the announcement of our approach to the Department of Mysteries I tried to lighten the mood. "I read your file, your wife seems lovely, so now Lavender can behead both of us." I laughed as I gripped him by the arm as we walked. "Saves her some time I suppose"

Going down a set of stairs we walked past a seemingly never ending row of identical black doors, I had to check Cattermole's file a few times to make sure we got the right one, once we found it. I knocked quickly and waited with bated breath for instruction.

"Enter!" said the sickeningly sweet and overly girlish voice of Dolores Umbridge. I gave a glance to Ron to make sure he was ready, he nodded, and we stepped through the doorway.

The first thing I saw was Umbridge, with Yaxley on one side of her, and Hermione, still looking at me pleadingly, on the other. At the foot of the platform, a bright-silver, long-haired cat prowled up and down, up and down.

Mrs. Cattermole was sat in a front facing chair, looking at the three of them, openly weeping, she was bound in the chair by magical wrist restraints that made it look eerily similar to the executioners chair.

"-Mother to Maisie, Ellie, and Alfred Cattermole?" Mrs. Cattermole sobbed. "They're frightened, they think I might not come home —" "Spare us," spat Yaxley. "The brats of Mudbloods do not stir our sympathies."

"Pardon the intrusion." I said as we entered, the door slamming shut behind us with finality, no turning back. The room was bitter cold, it was almost frosting over, my breath was visible immediately, it didn't take me long to realise why.

Above us was a swirling mass of horror, Dementors filled the hall above us, countless in number, each of them only subdued by the cat, which I now realised was a patronus.

"And why do you see fit to interrupt us Dawlish?" said Yaxley coldly, I shoved Ron forward, harder then I should have, he slammed his chest on the partition between Mrs Cattermole and the raised platform.

"I brought the husband of this filth." I spat venomously despite the urge to cringe I had. Yaxley sighed. "Reg! You came!" cried Mrs. Cattermole. Ron gave her an awkward smile and a nod as tears streaked down her face.

"Very well, it may do him some good to see what happen to the...impure." "I'm a witch! Cried Mrs. Cattermole. "Order!" shrieked Umbridge.

Then Umbridge raised her voice to address Mrs. Cattermole, "Very well" she said sweetly with a little cough that I despised beyond belief, "Now we are all present."

"A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole," Umbridge was saying. "Eight-and-threequarter inches, cherry, unicorn-hair core. Do you recognise that description?"

Mrs. Cattermole nodded, mopping her eyes on her shoulder. "Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard you took that wand?" "T-took?" sobbed Mrs. Cattermole. "I didn't t-take it from anybody. I b-bought it when I was eleven years old. It — it — it — chose me."

She cried harder than ever. Umbridge laughed a soft girlish laugh that made me want to throttle her. She leaned forward over the barrier, the better to observe her victim, and something gold swung forward too, and dangled over the void: the locket.

It took everything in me not to gasp at the sight, Hermione had seen it; she let out a little squeak, but Umbridge and Yaxley, still intent upon their prey, were deaf to everything else.

"No," said Umbridge, "no, I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards. You are not a witch."

"But I am! Tell them, Reg! Tell them what I am!" Ron started to speak, but Umbridge's attention wasn't on him. "I have your responses to the questionnaire that was sent to you here — Mafalda, pass them to me." Umbridge held out a small hand

Hermione's hands were shaking with shock. She fumbled in a pile of documents balanced on the chair beside her, finally withdrawing a sheaf of parchment with Mrs. Cattermole's name on it.

"That's — that's pretty, Dolores," she said, pointing at the pendant gleaming in the ruffled folds of Umbridge's blouse. Trying to draw my attention to it probably.

"What?" snapped Umbridge, glancing down. "Oh yes — an old family heirloom," she said, patting the locket. "The S stands for Selwyn. . . . I am related to the Selwyns. . . . Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related. . . . A pity,"

I tried my best to stop a scoff from escaping my mouth, I didn't have to take Care of Magical Creatures to know that was a bunch of dragon dung.

She continued in a louder voice, flicking through Mrs. Cattermole's questionnaire, "that the same cannot be said for you. 'Parents' professions: greengrocers.' " Yaxley laughed jeeringly.

Below, the fluffy silver cat patrolled up and down, and the dementors stood waiting in the corners. I turned my head towards her when I heard a gasp, suddenly, in the middle of the courtroom was Harry.

He tossed off the invisibility cloak, still looking like Runcorn"You're lying. And one mustn't tell lies, Dolores... Stupefy!" A flash of red light hit Umbridge and she slumped, forehead striking the balustrade with a satisfying 'Smack!'

Mrs. Cattermole's papers slid off her lap onto the floor and, down below, the prowling silver cat vanished. Ice-cold air hit them like an oncoming wind: Yaxley, confused, looked around for the source of the trouble and saw Harry's disembodied hand and wand pointing at him.

He tried to draw his own wand, but too late: "Stupefy!" I called and Yaxley slid to the ground to lie curled on the floor. "Harry!" "Hermione, if you think I was going to sit here and let her pretend —" "Harry, Mrs. Cattermole!"

Harry whirled around, throwing off the Invisibility Cloak; down below, the dementors had moved out of their corners; they were gliding toward the woman chained to the chair:

Whether because the Patronus had vanished or because they sensed that their masters were no longer in control, they seemed to have abandoned restraint. Mrs. Cattermole let out a terrible scream of fear as a slimy, scabbed hand grasped her chin and forced her face back.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" The silver stag soared from the tip of Harry's wand and leaped toward the dementors, which fell back and melted into the dark shadows again.

The stag's light, more powerful and more warming than the cat's protection, filled the whole dungeon as it cantered around and around the room. "Get the Horcrux," Harry told Hermione. He ran back down the steps, stuffing the Invisibility Cloak back into his bag, and approached Mrs. Cattermole.

I ran up to Hermione, stepping over the seats and rows and began throwing Yaxley's and Umbridge's wands away from their unconscious bodies in case they awoke. Punching Umbridge in her ugly frog face for the added pleasure of it.

Then I darted back to Harry as he struggled with the restraints and Ron tried his best to form a patronus. Mrs. Cattermole looked utterly bewildered. "You?" she whispered, gazing into his face. "But — but Reg said you were the one who submitted my name for questioning!"

"Did I?" muttered Harry, tugging at the chains binding her arms. "Well, I've had a change of heart. Diffindo!" Nothing happened. "Hermione, how do I get rid of these chains?" "Wait, I'm trying something up here —"

"Finite Incantatum!" I tried, nothing, "Alohamora?" nothing. "Hermione, we're surrounded by dementors!" "I know that, but if she wakes up and the locket's gone — I need to duplicate it — Geminio! There . . . That should fool her. . . ."

Hermione came running downstairs. "Let's see. . . . Relashio!" The chains clinked and withdrew into the arms of the chair. Mrs. Cattermole looked just as frightened as ever before. "I don't understand," she whispered.

"You're going to leave here with us," said Harry, pulling her to her feet. "Go home, grab your children, and get out, get out of the country if you've got to. Disguise yourselves and run. You've seen how it is, you won't get anything like a fair hearing here."

I reached into my belt, pulling out all the money I could, I had emptied my vault before the wedding, same as Hermione did with her muggle bank account. I had stockpiled it for the journey, but she needed it more.

I ended up simply handing her a pouch of Galleons, I didn't know how much it was. "This should help you get out, get your family safe, consider it an extended holiday."

"Harry," said Hermione, "how are we going to get out of here with all those dementors outside the door?" "Patronuses," said Harry, pointing his wand at his own.

The stag slowed and walked, still gleaming brightly, toward the door. "As many as we can muster; do yours, Hermione." "Expec — Expecto patronum," said Hermione. Nothing happened.

"It's the only spell she ever has trouble with," Harry told a completely bemused Mrs. Cattermole. "Bit unfortunate, really . . . Come on, Hermione. . . ." "Expecto patronum!" A silver otter burst from the end of Hermione's wand and swam gracefully through the air to join the stag.

"Expecto Patronum!" I yelled, thinking of the smell of rain in the air and broomstick polish, thinking about dancing under golden balloons, de-gnoming gardens and dancing to imaginary beats. Silver mist seemed to pour out of my wand, but then it all went wrong.

My mind began to wander, to smirking murderers, crying children and new wounds opening, I thought back to snakes made of fire and fallen aurors. My wand failed me; the mist did not form as it had before but instead stayed as a gaseous presence.

I went to try again but I was pulled off by the shoulder, "No, wait I can-" I started. "No time just go!" called Ron. "Reg! Reg what's going on, why are they helping us?" the terrified woman said, throwing her arms around Ron as we tried to escape. "He's very persuasive" I muttered.

"C'mon," said Harry, and he led Hermione and Mrs. Cattermole to the door. When the Patronuses glided out of the dungeon there were cries of shock from the people waiting outside.

Dementors were falling back on both sides of them, melding into the darkness, scattering before the silver creatures. "It's been decided that you should all go home and go into hiding with your families," Harry told the waiting Muggle-borns, who were dazzled by the light of the Patronuses and still cowering slightly.

"Go abroad if you can. Just get well away from the Ministry. That's the — er — new official position. Now, if you'll just follow the Patronuses, you'll be able to leave from the Atrium."

The moment that the Dementors crossed the threshold of the courtroom and were put of containment a buzzing sound filled the ministry, it was like the Muffliato charm dialled up to eleven. Ron shed some light on the situation.

"Harry, they know there are intruders inside the Ministry, I reckon we've got five minutes if that" I explained, Hermione's Patronus vanished with a pop as she turned a horrorstruck face to Harry

"Not good, Very not good! They'll be sealing off the fireplaces anytime now, it's protocol." I said, remembering what they did after the Death Eaters were captured in our fifth year.

"Harry, if we're trapped here — !" "We won't be if we move fast," said Harry. He addressed the silent group behind them, who were all gawping at him. "Who's got wands?"

About half of them raised their hands. "Okay, all of you who haven't got wands need to attach yourself to somebody who has. We'll need to be fast before they stop us. Come on." We all managed to cram ourselves into two lifts.

Harry's Patronus stood sentinel before the golden grilles as they shut and the lifts began to rise. "Level eight," said the witch's cool voice, "Atrium."

Sometimes it sucks to be right. The Atrium was full of people moving from fireplace to fireplace, sealing them off. "Harry!" squeaked Hermione. "What are we going to — ?" "STOP!" Harry thundered, and the powerful voice of Runcorn echoed through the Atrium:

The wizards sealing the fireplaces froze. "Follow me," he whispered to the group of terrified Muggleborns, who moved forward in a huddle, shepherded by Ron and Hermione. "What's up, Albert?" said a balding wizard.

"This lot need to leave before you seal the exits," said Harry with all the authority he could muster. The group of wizards in front of him looked at one another. "We've been told to seal all exits and not let anyone —"

"Are you contradicting me?" Harry blustered. "Would you like me to have your family tree examined, like I had Dirk Cresswell's?" "Sorry!" gasped the balding wizard, backing away. "I didn't mean nothing, Albert, but I thought . . . I thought they were in for questioning and . . ."

"Their blood is pure," said Harry, and his deep voice echoed impressively through the hall. "Purer than many of yours, I daresay. Off you go," he boomed to the Muggle-borns, who scurried forward into the fireplaces and began to vanish in pairs.

The Ministry wizards hung back, some looking confused, others scared and resentful. Then: "Mary!" Mrs. Cattermole looked over her shoulder. The real Reg Cattermole, no longer vomiting, had just come running out of a lift.

"R-Reg?" She looked from her husband to Ron, who swore loudly. The balding wizard gaped, his head turning ludicrously from one Reg Cattermole to the other.

"Hey — what's going on? What is this?" "Seal the exit! SEAL IT!" Yaxley had burst out of another lift and was running toward the group beside the fireplaces, into which all of the Muggle-borns but Mrs. Cattermole had now vanished.

As the balding wizard lifted his wand, Harry raised an enormous fist and punched him, sending him flying through the air. "He's been helping Muggle-borns escape, Yaxley!" Harry shouted.

The balding wizard's colleagues set up an uproar, under cover of which Ron grabbed Mrs. Cattermole, pulled her into the still-open fireplace, and disappeared.

Confused, Yaxley looked from Harry to the punched wizard, while the real Reg Cattermole screamed, "My wife! Who was that with my wife? What's going on?" Harry seemed to be deciding whether to run or not.

"GO!" I screamed at him, knowing he had more time on his Polyjuice then me. I rushed at Yaxley, hitting him square in the face with a barrage of sparks meant to blind him. He screamed out in agony, "STOP THEM!" as a curse shot out of his wand.

"Come on!" Harry shouted at Hermione; he seized her hand and they jumped into the fireplace together as Yaxley's curse sailed over Harry's head. As my face changed back to its normal handsome self, there were gasps throughout the Atrium.

As Yaxley clawed at his face trying to regain some vision another person arrived at his side, Dolores Umbridge was storming forward as fast as her stubby little legs and her stupid shoes could take her, blood still spilling from her nose.

As more Ministry workers, presumably aurors, arrived on a lift, I had to think fast, I used an "Incarcerous" to wrap the grilles of the lift together, forcing them closed. Umbridge seemed to freeze upon seeing me turn back into myself, her face going pale.

To put some distance between us and give me time to make my escape I used the fire rope spell to make a towering plume of flame in front of the fireplace, Umbridge almost fainted at the sight of me and and cowered behind the statue, looking at me as if I was some monster in front of her.

I blew a little kiss to her as I disappeared behind the flames and turned to leave, I was ready to spin up too, but something compelled me to turn on the spot as I did, an urge I didn't know I had until this very moment.

Despite all the craziness, there was something here I couldn't stand for, something that made disgust bubble up inside of me every time I saw it.

I had to send a message, to inspire something in the people in the Ministry, to remind them there was still hope. That there were people in the world that wouldn't stand for this insanity.

So I parted the flame enough for my body and said an incantation with as much conviction as I had in my body. "BOMBARDA MAXIMA!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs, as If it was some brilliant speech.

But It wasn't, it was a simple act to remind the Ministry that there are people in this world that were willing to fight back. That wouldn't bow down to Voldemort or anyone like him.

There was a single moment of collective silence as the spell flew through the air, impacting it's target. The stature of Muggles in their 'rightful place.' It exploded into shards and pieces instantly, the harrowing image now nothing more than a pile of rubble.

A large section of the statue, the figure of the witch and wizard, broke off from the smaller pieces that flew in every direction and began to crumble under it's own weight, toppling to one side.

In a perfect moment of poetic justice, Umbridge looked up at it in pure horror and let out an undignified squeal as it collapsed on top of her. My only regret would be not seeing if it actually killed her.

As the monument came crashing to the ground I stepped towards the exit and I was spinning. I came out of a toilet into a cubicle. I flung open the door. Not realising someone had jumped through my flames after me.

I saw Harry and Hermione looking back at me in absolute terror. "Lets go!" I called out as I noticed Ron was standing there beside the sinks, still wrestling with Mrs. Cattermole. She looked at me and gasped. "Reg, I don't understand —"

"Let go, I'm not your husband, you've got to go home!" There was a noise in the cubicle behind them; Harry looked around; Yaxley had just appeared.

"LET'S GO!" Harry yelled. He seized Hermione by the hand and Ron by the arm, I latched onto her wrist and we turned on the spot. Darkness engulfed them, along with the sensation of compressing bands, but something was wrong. . . .

I felt like I was being pulled in every direction, as if two warring forces were fighting over me as we tumbled through space. The fear of being splinched was ever present.

I saw flashes of the people around me, Hermione in a look of deep concentration, Ron and Harry in a panic, then Yaxley snarling at us.

And then I saw the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, with its serpent door knocker, there was a scream and a flash of purple light; I seemed to be tumbling away for a second.

Away from what I wasn't sure, but I knew something wasn't right, before I could wonder what my legs hit the ground hard and almost buckled under the force of the landing.

When I opened my eyes I was stood on the step of Grimmauld Place and the momentary relief it gave me was turned to ice as instead of my friends smiling back at me, I looked back to see the grimacing face of Corban Yaxley, his wand ignited and pointed at me.