3. Shacklebolt and Savage
The only access to the Minister’s home, by Floo Powder, was through a few select fireplaces within the Ministry itself; and the Head Auror’s office contained one such fireplace. As there was no time to send owls, this meant Harry had only one option.
Igniting the lamps of the large, spacious chamber that was the Auror Headquarters “ his place of work “ Harry delved into an inner pocket of his robes for a single gold Galleon. Silently marvelling at Hermione’s genius of inventing the thing in her fifth year that would become the standard means of emergency communication amongst future Aurors, Harry tapped his coin with his wand, forming the message ‘Place: HQ, Time: Now’.
He knew that several witches and wizards would presently be yelping in their sleep as their galleons burned against their skin, but the Aurors knew they weren’t signing up for an average nine-to-five job when they joined. Still, emergency out-of-hours meetings had been scarce since the fall of Voldemort. The last seven years had been peaceful “ a time of harmony and rebuilding in the wizarding world. Until now, thought Harry grimly.
Suddenly, green flames shot up from one of the many fireplaces set into the wall and Harry’s best friend emerged, his Auror robes inside out, puffy-eyed and with his ruffled red hair stuck up on one side.
“Harry!” said Ron, stumbling forward and rubbing his eyes. “Whassamater? Where is everyone?”
Before Harry could begin to explain, more emerald flames shot up, and within seconds the wall of fireplaces had transformed into a line of sporadic green explosions as the whole Auror department, each face pale but wary, spilled into the room. Moments later, all heads turned to the centre of the chamber where Rigel Savage, the Head Auror, emerged from his office, his sharp blue eyes sparkling in the lamplight as they swiftly swept the room, searchingly.
“Well?” barked Savage. “I hope there’s a good reason for this. Who sent the message?”
“I did,” said Harry, feeling his cheeks redden slightly as everyone turned to look at him. “Rigel, we need to wake the Minister too.”
“What is the problem?”
“I was attacked,” said Harry simply. “I’ll explain everything when the Minister joins us. It’s a waste of time to tell the story twice. Time is of the essence.”
Savage eyed Harry contemptuously. Harry didn’t need Legilimency to know what was going through his head. Savage hated being told what to do, least of all by the man whom many of his team looked upon with something bordering on reverence. But if Harry’s story was true, now was not the time to make petty demands for respect.
“Very well,” snapped Savage, turning on his heels back into his office.
“Blimey, you were attacked?” muttered Ron.
Harry nodded but remained silent. There wasn’t much chance of a private conversation with fifty curious heads pointed in his direction.
A few awkward minutes passed before the crackling of a fire sounded within Savage’s office, and seconds later the majestic frame of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, entered the chamber, Savage hurrying along in his wake.
Kingsley had the rare talent of exuding calmness wherever he went. The expectant, tense atmosphere in the room seemed to visibly relax as he strolled smoothly through the threshold. His powerful aura was almost tangible, and nothing about his sleek, midnight-blue robes or collected, alert expression betrayed the fact that a minute earlier he had been sleeping.
“Harry,” said Kingsley, allowing a short bow. “Rigel tells me you’ve been attacked. Is this true?”
“Yes, Minister.”
Harry cleared his throat and began to recount the night’s events, uncomfortably omitting the part about why he had been outside in the first place, as if going flying on a night like this was a perfectly normal thing to do to.
Trying to ignore the stunned looks on some of his audience’s faces as he recounted leaping from his broom and fighting a small army of wizards in freefall, Harry reached the part of his story where the familiar-sounding voice had spoken to him… “And he said something about avenging Voldemort by killing me,” Harry finished.
“So they were definitely Death Eaters, then?” said Savage, with little effort to hide the sarcastic tone in his voice. .
“Almost certainly,” said Harry obstinately. “As I said, they were masked like Death Eaters, they were well organised, and they were clearly fighting in Voldemort’s name. They were skilled, too; some of them used Killing Curses and they were very good fliers.”
“Death Eaters, back again?” said Savage, wearing a twisted smile now. “The Death Eaters were dedicated followers of You-Know-Who. He’s gone “ so they’ve gone. Whoever it is we’re dealing with, they can’t be followers of someone who’s dead. Madmen who bear a grudge and know some Dark Magic “ yes, perhaps; Death Eaters “ no…” Savage looked smugly at Harry as if he had just explained a very simple thing to a child.
But Kingsley was shaking his head slowly. “Voldemort’s absence, in the long run, is irrelevant as long as the sentiments remain of what he tried to promote. His death was a setback for his followers, to be sure, but as long as wizards seek after the ideals put forward by Voldemort’s agenda “ the supremacy of pure-bloods for example “ it is not at all implausible that more Death Eaters should arise, even if Voldemort is no longer around to recruit them. Voldemort started a movement, and it would be naïve to presume that his death alone would halt its progress.”
Savage looked as though he had swallowed a large bottle of Bubotuber puss.
“The most pertinent question,” Kingsley continued, “is why these Death Eaters were waiting to ambush Harry. I understand you have the Fidelius Charm placed on your house, Harry?”
Harry nodded and Kingsley continued. “So they have obviously gone to the trouble of patrolling Harry’s known whereabouts, waiting for a chance to strike. Why reveal themselves in this way? Why would this be their first move?”
To everyone’s surprise, not least Harry’s, Ron was the first to speak out. “Well it’s obvious, isn’t it, Minister? Like you said, if Death Eaters have returned they would have a purpose. They had more on their minds than just avenging Voldemort. Think what Harry represents to our world “ if they killed him, people would panic. It would destabilise us. There would be chaos.” Ron’s ears were pink, but there were murmurs of agreement round the room.
“That makes sense,” said Kingsley, nodding slowly. “Killing Harry would not only remove a symbol of fear for the Death Eaters, but send the rest of us into disarray. It would be the perfect diversion if they wanted to mount an attack on the Ministry, stage a breakout from Azkaban, attack people, or whatever else they could be planning. I have received no news from Azkaban of a breakout, so for now we must presume these Death Eaters are indeed unknown and not part of the old circle.”
“Well if we’re right in thinking Potter’s attack was meant as a diversionary tactic, Minister, then we must act swiftly,” said Savage, who seemed to have swallowed his pride and was now thoughtfully rubbing the dark stubble of his chin. “Potter escaped their attempt; they know they are now exposed, so if they had any plans, they’ll be executing them sooner rather than later. They’ll know it’s only a matter of time before everything is on high security. They’ve shown their hand and now they can’t back down.”
Kingsley looked deep in thought. After a moment of silence he said, “Our first priority must be to reinforce the guards at Azkaban. If these new Death Eaters are joined by Voldemort’s oldest supporters, they could be very dangerous indeed.”
“Take a battalion of your best Aurors to Azkaban, Rigel,” continued Kingsley, still remarkably calm, his deep voice slow and powerful. “I doubt they would make a move on the Ministry without further support, but we cannot be sure. I want each Head of Department within the Ministry to be escorted by a pair of Aurors as a precaution, and the remaining Aurors should attempt to gather intelligence about the identity of Harry’s attackers. In the meantime, I will alert the Daily Prophet and make an announcement to the Ministry in the morning. We will assemble again tomorrow when we have a clearer picture of what is happening.”
Kingsley made to leave, and Savage began barking orders as people started bustling about. On his way to the door, Kingsley paused next to Harry.
“You did well,” said Kingsley quietly, shaking Harry’s hand. “You continue to prove to your doubters that you are more than just a famous name.”
Kingsley gave a small bow and left through the main entrance, presumably in the direction of his office. Before Harry could begin to feel pleased with himself, Savage was marching towards him with a rather ugly look on his face.
“You too, Potter,” he grunted grudgingly, motioning Harry to join a group of fifteen senior Aurors assembling at the far end of the chamber, evidently preparing to depart for Azkaban immediately.
Harry glanced around for Ron, trying to catch his eye, but he was already being put into a different group of more junior Aurors, who would presumably soon be generating suspect lists of the new band of Death Eaters. Harry often hoped Ron didn’t begrudge his higher status within the Auror department. Ron had only become an Auror two years ago; Harry, on the other hand, had joined the Auror department at the age of seventeen and risen quickly through the ranks ever since. Ron had always been touchy about Harry’s higher popularity and praise since their schooldays, and Harry wasn’t positive things had changed to this day.
Savage’s rasping voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts. Trying not to let his wearied mind stray to Ginny, hoping she’d understand if he wasn’t back by morning, Harry listened to the battle plan being detailed in the event of encountering trouble.
After muttering the counter-curse to the anti-Disapparation jinx that had been placed on him just a couple of hours ago “ but it felt like an age “ Harry joined the line of Aurors and marched through a secret passageway that led directly to the Atrium, the only place within the Ministry where Apparition was possible. Each Auror grabbed a sleek broomstick from a store cupboard on their way out, and Harry realised with a pang of horror that his old, trusted Firebolt was currently lying, abandoned, on a dark hillside somewhere, probably hundreds of miles away “ or else was in the hands of one of those Death Eaters.
He had little time to ruminate on the matter, however, as Savage was now issuing his final orders, and next moment Harry was turning on the spot before vanishing into thin air, his mind solely focused on the fortress of Azkaban.