Harry Potter woke from a deep slumber and immediately regretted it. His head was sore, and one quick glance at the table by his bedside revealed why; it was littered with empty bottles. The sun beamed in through his window, dousing the room in warm, bright, light which did nothing to help Harry’s headache.
Harry dragged himself from his bed, and slouched into the bathroom, he pressed a flannel to his face, the cold water soothing his head. Groaning loudly, Harry pulled on his clothes and staggered downstairs, flannel still glued to his forehead.
He collapsed into a chair by the table in the kitchen, where Hermione Granger was sitting, waiting for him.
“Whatchu doing here?” he mumbled, closing his eyes as he spoke.
“Good Morning to you too, Harry,” Hermione replied haughtily. “Good grief…you look awful!”
Harry forced a laugh. “Thanks a lot.”
Hermione watched him as Harry got to his feet and stumbled towards the oven, where he clumsily began making himself breakfast. After he had burnt the fifth rasher of bacon Hermione got to her feet and walked over to help him. “Harry, sit down. I’ll do it.”
“It’s fine,” he grouched at her.
“Come on, Harry, please.”
Harry said nothing but instead picked up a couple of eggs, one of which he cracked into a frying pan with a little too much force, causing it to fly all over the kitchen. Harry then threw the other egg against a wall, and turned to face Hermione. “It’s not fair! I told her I’d protect her!” he cried, his eyes, already red due to the night before, were now glistening with tears.
Hermione put down the pan with the bacon in it, and put her arms forward to steady Harry as he began to slump forward, he fell forward into her arms and began crying on her shoulder. “What if she’s gone, Hermione? What if she’s dead?” he said, as all the thoughts he had been having over the last week came gushing out.
“Harry! Don’t say that. She’s still alive.”
“How do you know?”
“I just… look she is okay! This isn’t you, why aren’t you out there looking for her? Like everyone else is?”
Harry sighed, and retracted himself from Hermione’s arms. “I tried. I went into the Ministry, they were no help.”
“No sign of them?”
“No,” Harry replied, though his face looked pained.
“Harry? What is it?”
“My head hurts.”
“What is it really?”
Harry fixed his green eyes on Hermione, his face no longer looked pained; it looked furious. “I don’t think they have done everything they could do.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I just have a hunch. I don’t think that have bothered questioning Pettigrew for starters.”
Hermione looked stunned. “Wouldn’t that have been the first place they would start?”
“You’d think. Scrimgeour swears that he had him interrogated, and that Pettigrew knew nothing. I just don’t believe it.”
“If the Minister said so…”
“…it must be true, right?”
“Well…”
“Wrong. Scrimgeour doesn’t know what he is doing. And he’s got a real problem with me.”
Hermione tutted. “Really, Harry. He is the Minister for Magic; he can’t hold petty grudges.”
“This is not in my head, Hermione,” Harry snarled at her, as he began to pace the length of the kitchen.
Hermione sighed; there was no talking to Harry when he was in such a mood. “Why don’t we have some breakfast and talk about this properly?”
Harry stopped pacing and sat down; a sly smile crossed his face.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You’ve burnt the bacon.”
Hermione smiled back at Harry, and set a plate of eggs and slightly burnt bacon down in front of him, before making herself a plateful and taking a seat at the table opposite Harry.
“Treat Ron like this?”
Hermione laughed, “He wishes.”
Harry laughed as well. “So, tell me, Hermione, why are you here?”
Hermione’s smile vanished from her face, and she looked around the kitchen awkwardly. “I wanted to see how you were, Harry. We’ve all been worried about you.”
“Why didn’t the others come?” Harry said, as he rose from his seat and poured himself a glass of Pumpkin Juice. “You want one?”
“Oh yes please, Harry,” said Hermione, and she watched as Harry poured a second glass of Pumpkin Juice and set it down in front of her, before sitting back in his seat. “Well, I came because I’ve got to get up to the school anyway, and Ron wanted to come, but he’s having some trouble at work though.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I’m not sure, he won’t say. I think it has got something to do with Scrimgeour.”
Harry allowed himself a smirk. “Rufus is getting on with everybody then, isn’t he?”
Hermione grimaced. “Not funny, Harry.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s quite alright. So when are you going to go to the Ministry and get some answers?”
“I’m not planning to do anything like that.”
“What? Why not? Don’t you want to find Ginny?”
“Of course I do!” shouted Harry, flinging his empty glass across the kitchen.
“Then why not?”
“Because!” shouted Harry as he leapt to his feet and threw his arms up into the air.
“Harry…”
“Because I couldn’t protect her, okay! I lost her, it’s my fault! And you want to know the truth?” said Harry, as he ran his hands through his hair, making it messier than it had been before.
“I suppose…”
“I told her I could protect her. I told her she would be safe. I can’t face her again with her knowing I failed.”
“Harry Potter!” cried Hermione, getting to her feet and shoving Harry back into his chair and leaning over him, hands on her hips. “What are you talking about?! Ginny loves you. You love Ginny. You think she’s going to be thinking ‘Oh no, Harry failed me’? Or do you think she’ll be thinking ‘I hope Harry comes soon’? Well? Which is it?”
Harry smiled the slightest of smiles as he looked in the fierce face of Hermione, which was still hovering over his. “She’s probably thinking, ‘Why is Harry such an idiot?’.”
Hermione took a step back. “Probably.”
“Thanks, Hermione,” said Harry. “I’d better be going.”
“That’s quite alright, Harry. Bring back Ginny.”
“I will,” Harry replied, “Oh, and, Hermione?”
“Yes?”
“Do the washing up, would you?” Harry said cheekily, before giving Hermione a hug, turning on the spot, and disappearing.
Harry felt the familiar sensation that felt like being squeezed through a thick rubber tube as he reappeared inside the Ministry of Magic, surprising several witches and wizards as he popped out of thin air in the reception.
“Ah, Mr Potter! The Minister wishes to see you,” said a short, squat witch with thick black hair from behind the reception desk.
“Perfect,” replied Harry, thinking he could get some answers straight from Rufus Scrimgeour himself.
Harry walked out of the reception area and walked through the various corridors of the Ministry of Magic. He looked through the door as he passed the Auror Office and the unmistakeable figure of Ron being shouted at by the head of the Auror Office, Gawain Robards. Harry felt like storming in there and sticking up for Ron, but he decided that his search for Ginny was the highest priority.
Harry berated himself as he stepped into the elevator that would take him to the Minister’s office; he could not believe he had been foolish enough to leave Ginny in the hands of Malfoy for a week. Deep down, he knew that she would never have blamed him for it. So why did Harry blame himself?
He did not have an answer as he stepped out of the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief, the music played in the elevator could have sent a troll to sleep.
Harry did not even knock on the ornate oak door to the Rufus Scrimgeour’s office. Before he walked through the door, he removed his wand from his robes, and placed it up one sleeve, for easy access. Just in case, he thought to himself.
Harry pushed the heavy door open and strode through, immediately noticing that Scrimgeour was not alone, he had several Aurors stationed in his office.
“Expecting an attack, Rufus?” asked Harry politely.
“That depends on you, Mr Potter.”
Harry laughed dismissively; he had been expecting an answer like that. Raising his eyes from the deep red carpet he looked straight into the eyes of the Minister for Magic, and he saw fear and jealously in them. “You’ve nothing to fear from me, Rufus.”
Scrimgeour’s expression loosened. “Harry, we need to talk.”
“Yes, we do,” said Harry indignantly.
“Why haven’t you attended work in over five months?”
Harry shrugged. “Been busy.”
“Hmmm,” said Scrimgeour.
Harry said nothing; he was determined to make sure that Scrimgeour asked the questions.
“Doing what exactly, Mr Potter?”
“I don’t think that is any of your business.”
Scrimgeour laughed, and his expression hardened once again. “Don’t be so insolent, boy. You might have defeated Voldemort, but you are still working for me!”
“You have no authority over me, Rufus. And I have lost all respect for you. You lost my respect the day you approached me after Dumbledore’s burial.”
“How dare you!” Scrimgeour exploded, drawing his wand. The Aurors in his office did the same.
Harry remained calm, his wand still hidden. “Where is Ginny Weasley?”
Scrimgeour snarled and lowered his wand, motioning for the Aurors to do the same, he moved toward Harry, limping slightly on his left leg. “We don’t know.”
“Rufus. That’s a load of rubbish and you know it. Ask Pettigrew.”
“We did.”
Harry laughed again, he began pacing back and forth; smiling quite madly at Scrimgeour, “Don’t lie to me. Pettigrew knows. Why haven’t you asked him? Tell me the truth, for once in your miserable term as Minister.”
Scrimgeour looked for a moment as though he was about to raise his wand again, “I don’t consider it of any importance.”
Harry felt his temper rising; Scrimgeour had just admitted what Harry had suspected. He did not care if Ginny lived or died, as long as Malfoy stayed quiet. “Not of importance? She’s important to me, damn it! Get out of my way, Rufus,” said Harry, as Scrimgeour moved in front of Harry to stop him leaving.
“No. You’re under arrest.”
Harry laughed. “No, I’m not.” And he twirled his wand around his fingers, thick black smoke billowing from its tip, engulfing him. Under the cover of smoke Harry left the Minister’s office, and ran to the elevator.
Harry emerged from the elevator and pulled his invisibility cloak from his pocket; he always kept in on him, ever since Dumbledore had told him to over two years ago. He threw the cloak over him and hurried towards a door at the end of the corridor.
Harry re-entered the reception area under the cover of Invisibility. It was a good thing too, as it seemed like the whole of the Ministry was now looking for him; various witches and wizards went flying by him, wands out, hexing anything that looked slightly suspicious.
Harry took a door branching off from the left side of the reception area, and proceeded to run down the corridor. He stopped dead however, when a familiar red-haired figure stepped out in front of him.
“Take off the cloak, Harry.”
“Ron, come on. Move. I’ve got to save Ginny.”
“Take off the cloak.”
Harry looked at Ron from underneath his invisibility cloak. He could see that Ron’s face was pale, and his expression pained; there was a definite slouch to him that he had not had before.
“No,” Harry said.
“Harry…” Ron started.
“Ron, no! Look I am doing this to save Ginny, now please. Move.”
Ron looked extremely uncomfortable as he fought with the conflict inside him. “Harry…this is my job. I want to keep it. I’ve got to arrest you.”
Harry could not believe his ears. “Ron! Are you mad? If you take me in, that’s it. Ginny will die. Do you want that?”
“Of course not.”
“Then move!”
“I can’t, Harry!”
Harry decided to waste no more time with Ron; he simply walked past him, using his invisibility to his advantage. Harry looked back at Ron, who was still talking to thin air, before he pushed open the door in front of him.
Harry looked around wide-eyed as he found himself in the Potions stockroom. It was a huge room, shelves hung from rickety brackets on every wall, pausing only for the door that Harry had entered through, and another door that stood in the right-most corner of the room. A single wizard; young and spry, stood by a desk, with a quill in his hand and very bored expression on his face.
Harry whipped off his cloak and slipped his wand into his hand, he pointed it at the young wizard sitting in front of him; who now had an expression of extreme fear on his face.
“Please! Mr Potter, don’t!” pleaded the wizard, who sank to his knees.
“Get up, you idiot. I’m not here to kill anyone. Tell me where the Veritaserum is,” Harry snapped, tucking his cloak back into his pocket.
The wizard simply whimpered a pathetic response.
“What?” roared Harry, causing the young wizard to whimper even more.
“It’s over there,” he managed to say, before he passed out on the floor.
“Idiot,” murmured Harry, as he stepped over the wizards limp form. He walked over to the small, glass shelves low in the top right corner of the room. He reached down and picked up a single bottle of completely clear liquid. Harry pocketed the Veritaserum before a voice behind him made his blood freeze.
“Drop the wand, Harry.”
Harry turned to face Rufus Scrimgeour, his wand still in his hand.
“Drop it,” Scrimgeour repeated, as at least twenty wizards walked into the Potions stockroom behind him, all with their wands pointed at Harry.
“I can’t do that, Rufus,” Harry said simply, and he raised his wand so that it was pointing at Scrimgeour, Scrimgeour’s own wand was pointing at Harry.
“Then I have no choice, Harry. Do nothing until I say so,” said Scrimgeour to the assembled wizards, with the air of someone who had just achieved something he had been longing to do for a long time.
Scrimgeour muttered something incomprehensible and a burst of sky blue light shot from his wand, Harry conjured a mirror from thin air and the spell dissipated harmlessly on the surface of the glass. Harry threw the mirror to one side and shot a stunning spell at the Minister, who reacted far too slowly, catching the stunning spell straight in the chest.
Harry smiled as Scrimgeour hit the floor, before he closed his eyes and braced himself as twenty flashes of red light streaked towards him.
Harry opened his eyes, he checked himself; he was fine, no injuries, nothing out of order in anyway. Unless you were to count the twenty wizards who were now lying on the floor, besides the limp figure of Rufus Scrimgeour.
It took Harry a moment to notice the figure standing beside him, the figure who still had their wand pointing at the pile of wizards.
“Ron!” Harry shouted, relief rushing through him.
Ron did not reply, he simply remained where he was; he looked very green, as if he might be sick at any minute.
“Ron! Come on! We’ve got to get out of here,” Harry pressed.
“What have I done?” said Ron, staring at his wand. “How did I do that?”
“I don’t know, Ron. What spell did you use?”
Ron shook his head, “I don’t know. I remember seeing those guys rush to Scrimgeour. I came in through the door behind you. I saw you stun Scrimgeour, and I saw the others shoot their stunners at you. I don’t know, my mind froze, all I could think to do was cast a shield spell, it shouldn’t have done that!”
Harry was looking at Ron, impressed. “Ron, shield spells can be that powerful, if there is enough emotion behind it.”
Ron was still shaking his head. “I stunned them all. I’ll be kicked out for sure.”
“Do you care? Do you want to work for a Ministry that wouldn’t even look for Ginny?”
“What?”
“They never questioned Pettigrew, Ron. Scrimgeour told me so. All they have been doing is wasting time.”
“They what?!” Ron roared, as Harry heard the footsteps of more wizards approaching, and he saw Scrimgeour begin to stir.
“We’ve got to go, Ron. Come on.”
“Go where?”
“Azkaban.”
“Why?”
Harry pulled the little bottle of clear liquid from his robes. “We’ve got some questions to ask.”
Ron looked at the bottle, then looked at Harry, and slowly nodded his head.
The two friends took one last look at the pile of wizards, who were all starting to stir now, and turned on the spot, disappearing with a crack.
Harry and Ron both reappeared outside Azkaban within seconds of each other. Harry appeared silently, Ron, with a small popping sound.
The bright sunshine that had been shining when Harry had woken up was gone; replaced by cloudy skies and heavy rain. It was always raining at Azkaban; the sun was not welcome at the prison.
“Come on, Harry,” said Ron. “Damn rain. Why can’t we just Apparate inside?” he complained, holding his arms up to shield himself for the downpour.
“Well,” said Harry, as he began to walk towards the gates of Azkaban. “If we could do that, then everyone else could as well. There’d be too many breakouts.”
Ron laughed. “Yeah I know. Rhetorical question, Harry.”
Harry smiled, but the smile quickly faded from his face. “Ron…you won’t be able to go back. Even if they would forgive you for jinxing half the Ministry… you’re helping me, and I’m a wanted man.”
Ron stopped laughing instantly. “Yeah I know, Harry. That doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go back. They’ve just left Ginny, she could be…” he stopped, the next word apparently too painful to say.
“She’s alive, Ron,” Harry said, putting his hand on Ron’s shoulder.
Ron said nothing; he simply nodded at Harry.
Walking in silence the two friends reached the gates of Azkaban. Harry withdrew his wand. “This could get messy, Ron. You ready?”
Ron withdrew his own wand. “Always.”
“Then let’s go.”
“Harry, wait.”
“What?” said Harry, slightly impatiently, as he turned from the gates to face Ron.
“Doesn’t feel right, does it?”
Harry sighed. “I know. There’s probably the entire Ministry force waiting for us in there.”
“Not that. I meant, it doesn’t feel right doing something like this without Hermione. I miss those days, just the three of us.”
Harry smiled at Ron. “So do I, Ron. Let’s reminisce after we’ve got Ginny back.”
“Good point,” Ron grinned. “After you, then.”
Harry took a deep breath and pushed the gates open, he found himself in an empty corridor; he thrust his wand out in front of him, just in case anyone attempted to jinx him.
“Where is everyone?” Ron asked, just as Harry was thinking the same thing.
“I don’t know. Come on, let’s get under the cloak, just in case,” Harry said, as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the invisibility cloak.
“Ah, more fun memories,” said Ron, grinning as he slipped underneath the cloak.
“Sssh!” said Harry, as a single, lone guard strolled into view.
Harry and Ron shuffled after the guard as he walked past them, the cloak was much too small to cover them both now, it wrapped around their legs; causing them to stumble. Ron lost his balance completely and fell out from under the cloak with a loud crash. The guard spun around, wand in hand, but froze as he saw Ron, Harry watched anxiously from under the cloak; his grip tightening on his wand, he breathed a sigh of relief though as he saw the guard lower his wand.
“Ron? Ron Weasley?” said the guard, looking at Ron with a curious expression on his face. Harry could have sworn he knew the voice…but could not quite place it.
“Justin?” said Ron, looking up at the guard.
“That’s right! What are you doing here, Ron?” said Justin Finch-Fletchly.
“Never mind me, what are you doing here?”
“Oh… well I didn’t quite get the grades I needed to be a healer…so I’m working here until something better opens up.”
Ron stifled a laugh. “That’s great. Well, Justin, as you’re here…can you take me to Peter Pettigrew’s cell?”
Justin’s face fell. “Not really, Ron. I’ve got to arrest you, you attacked the Minister.”
“That was fast,” Ron murmured, before realising properly what he just heard. He raised his wand, causing Justin to take a step backwards. “That wasn’t me.”
“It was me,” said Harry, pulling the cloak off of himself.
“Harry Potter!” squeaked Justin. “Don’t kill me!”
Harry laughed. “Justin, I’m not a killer. Yes, I stunned the Minister, and yes, I’m sure you’ve been told to arrest me. So go ahead, if you think you can take me and Ron.”
Justin whimpered meekly.
“That’s what I thought,” Harry said with satisfaction. “There is another way.”
Justin looked curiously at Harry. “Another way?”
“Yes. You take us to Pettigrew, and when we are there you let one of us stun you, and when the other guards ask what happened, just tell them you didn’t see anything.”
Justin nodded slowly. “Do I have to be stunned?”
“Yes,” said Ron, “But you can either let us do it, or make us do it.”
“Okay,” Justin relented. “I’ll take you to him.”
“Excellent!” said Ron, patting Justin enthusiastically on the back.
“We’ll be under the cloak,” said Harry, pulling the cloak over Ron and him. “So don’t walk too quickly.”
Justin nodded and put his wand away, before walking slowly ahead, before turning left and leading them down a dark corridor.
The three followed the corridor for a good five minutes; it seemed to be leading them towards the darkest and most unpleasant part of the prison.
“Just where he belongs, eh, Harry?” whispered Ron.
“You’re not lying,” Harry whispered back.
“Where do you think Ginny could be?”
“I have no idea,” Harry replied truthfully. “But I will get her back, Ron.”
“Harry… it’s not your fault you know. Nobody blames you. Malfoy came out of nowhere, and it was dark. You couldn’t have stopped him.”
Harry suddenly felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Ron…thanks,” was all he could say.
“Will you two be quiet?” Justin snapped. “You’re not supposed to be here, so at least be quiet.”
Harry and Ron smirked at each other, and then fell silent.
I’ll find you, Ginny. I will save you, Harry said silently to himself, the knowledge that nobody blamed him was a great load of his mind.
The rest of the walk passed in silence. After about a further ten minute walk, they had arrived outside Pettigrew’s cell; it was certainly situated in the worst part of Azkaban, Harry was sure that the walls were made of filth, such was the dirtiness of this part of the prison.
“Well… we’re here,” said Justin, shaking slightly and looking very pale.
“Open the door, Justin,” said Harry, pulling the cloak off of Ron and himself, before tucking it back into his pocket.
Justin did as he was told, and opened the door to Pettigrew’s cell. Harry thought he saw a flash of black, he raised he wand but as he looked harder he saw nothing, just the dirty blackness of the stone walls, and a small, quivering man sitting hunched in the corner of the cell.
Harry and Ron entered the cell, Justin went to follow them, Ron turned and stopped him. “You know what happens now, Justin.”
Justin nodded. “Yeah.”
“Thanks for the help,” said Harry, before nodding to Ron.
“We’ll see you again someday, Justin,” said Ron, before he pointed his wand at Justin, who closed his eyes and swallowed.
“Get it over with,” he said.
“Stupefy!”
A jet of red light shot from the tip of Ron’s wand, hitting Justin in the chest, rendering him unconscious, he began to fall to the floor, but Ron waved his wand again, and the resulting spell slowed Justin’s decent, causing him to land gently on the floor.
Ron shrugged at the curious expression on Harry’s face. “Well, he did help us after all.”
Harry nodded, and turned back to face the huddled mass of rags on the floor. He kicked out at the bundle, which whimpered and recoiled. “Get up, Pettigrew,” Harry ordered.
Pettigrew stayed where he was, which caused Harry to point his wand at him, with one quick flick Pettigrew was lifted into the air, he body stretched until it was upright.
“We’re going to ask you some questions,” Harry started, before Pettigrew started protesting. “And you will answer them,” he finished, raising his voice just enough to be heard over Pettigrew.
“Why should I tell you anything?” Pettigrew hissed, his demeanour changing suddenly from that of a pathetic, broken down man, to a vicious, stubborn wizard.
“You’re not the one asking the questions,” said Ron, as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Harry; his wand was also pointing at Pettigrew.
“Exactly. Now, tell us the details of your plan with the Malfoys.”
Pettigrew shook his head; Harry waved his wand, causing Pettigrew’s body to stretch even more.
“I won’t tell you anything!” Pettigrew insisted.
Harry sighed, and lowered his wand, causing Pettigrew to fall to the floor. Harry reached inside his robes and withdrew the bottle of Veritaserum. “You know what this is, don’t you, Peter?”
Pettigrew looked at the little bottle of potent truth potion and snorted, “You don’t have the authority.”
Harry and Ron both laughed. “Look at us, Pettigrew. We stunned a guard. We’re acting on our own authority. Now open up,” Harry said.
Pettigrew, as expected, did not open his mouth. He merely glared at Harry. “It won’t do you any good, you don’t know which questions to ask.”
Harry was taken aback; slightly confused he looked at Ron, who was looking equally perplexed. “I’ll ask you what I want to know, that’s enough,” Harry said, pointing his wand at Pettigrew, who shrieked and tried to hide from it; which was a futile effort given the tiny amount of room in the cell.
“Stupefy!” said Harry, almost casually.
Ron made no attempt to extend Pettigrew the same consideration that he had shown Justin; instead he just let Pettigrew crash to floor as the blast of red light hit him straight in the face. Pettigrew landed on his face with a sickening crunch, as blood began to seep out from his nose, which was now clearly broken.
Harry tossed the bottle of Veritaserum to Ron, and together they approached the limp form of Pettigrew. Harry turned Pettigrew over so that he was lying on his back, and opened his mouth. “Three drops, Ron.”
Ron nodded and uncorked the little bottle; he leant over Pettigrew and tipped the bottle slightly, causing three drops of clear liquid to fall onto Pettigrew’s tongue.
“Enervate!” muttered Harry, pointing his wand at Pettigrew. Pettigrew’s eyes snapped open as the spell from Harry’s wand hit him. He did not move however, he simply lay on the floor. His eyes now had a misty glaze to them, as if he had just received several sharp blows to the head.
“Can you hear me?” Harry asked, as he and Ron hoisted Pettigrew into a sitting position against the nearest wall.
“Yes,” came Pettigrew’s reply, it was not his usual voice however, more of a dull monotone.
“Excellent!” said Ron.
Harry nodded in agreement. “Now, I would like you to tell me what the details of your plan with the Malfoys were.”
Pettigrew took a deep breath and began to speak in the same dull tone. “Draco wanted to come straight for you. He wants you dead at all costs. He suggested to his father that they hunt you down and kill you.”
“Nice guys,” said Ron sarcastically. “So what happened?”
“Lucius was against the idea of hunting Harry Potter down; he thought that they should lay low until public interest in their escape from Azkaban had waned.”
“How does Ginny fit into all this?” asked Harry quickly.
“Draco and Lucius began to argue, and were about to duel when I made my presence known. I told them I had information that would be of use to them.”
“What information?” Harry and Ron asked at the same time.
“That Harry Potter would be teaching at Hogwarts. And that Ginny Weasley had feelings for Harry Potter.”
Harry felt his body stiffen. “How did you come by this information?”
“I used Polyjuice Potion to disguise myself as a worker in the Ministry of Magic. Whilst I was there I was able to befriend a wizard called Percy Weasley. I earned his trust, and he shared the information about Harry Potter teaching with me. As time went by he began to confide in me, he admitted that he was worried about his sister. That he was concerned she had not fully gotten over her feelings for Harry Potter.”
“Percy, you idiot,” said Ron.
Harry held up a hand to signal Ron should be quiet. “Continue, what happened when you told the Malfoys this information?” he said to Pettigrew.
“Draco suspected that you would still have feelings for Ginny Weasley. The three of us decided that the best course of action would be to attack and kill Ginny Weasley, using her death to draw you out, and then to attack you whilst you were distracted by grief.”
Harry felt sick, it all came back to him, he was the reason Ginny was taken, they were using her to hurt him, and it was working.
“Where has Malfoy taken her?”
“I do not know. I know that he wanted to destroy you in front of her, and in the same place that Albus Dumbledore fell.” Pettigrew fell silent.
Harry felt his heart give a little leap; Ginny was still alive, if Malfoy wanted her to watch him die, then he would not have killed her. He was waiting for Harry at the top of the Astronomy Tower, the place where he had ambushed a weakened Dumbledore nearly two years ago.
“When?” Harry asked.
“Tonight,” replied Pettigrew.
Harry’s mind began racing, he had to get to the Astronomy Tower; Ginny’s life depended on it. He snapped back to reality, and was aware of Pettigrew once more; with a look of disgust on his face Harry fixed his wand upon Pettigrew, and stunned him once more, then turned and left the cell, Ron close behind him.
“The Astronomy Tower,” Harry said.
“We’ve got to get going,” Ron said anxiously.
“No. I’ve got to go by myself. No, Ron, listen,” Harry said, as Ron began to protest. “I need you to go into the school, you need to tell Hermione, Remus, anyone who could help, and get them to the Tower. I can take Malfoy.”
Ron looked for a moment as if he might protest again, but nodded instead. “Let’s get going,” he said simply.
Harry nodded as well, and the two of them broke into a run, they pelted through the corridors and passageways of Azkaban until they reached the gates. As soon as they were in the open air they both turned on the spot and disappeared.
Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy stood hunched in front a fireplace, deep in conversation with an unseen figure.
“So you revealed the plan to Pettigrew?” the figure asked.
“I did,” Draco replied, smiling maliciously as his eyes left the fireplace and rested upon the unconscious form of Ginny Weasley; who was slumped in a chair in the room of the tiny house that Draco was hiding in. The Muggle owners of the house were lying dead in a corner of the room.
“And you were not seen?”
Draco hesitated before answering; he was sure that Harry might have seen him before the disillusionment charm took full effect. “I am sure, sir. I was not seen.”
“Excellent. Then you must go. You know what you have to do. I do not want Harry Potter alive after tonight.”
Draco smiled. “Don’t worry, he will be dead before the night is out. You have my word…Minister.”
A/N - Chapter 18 is down, its one of my favourite chapters, chapter 19 lies with my beautiful beta :-D