5. Realisations
Zacharias Smith?
The idea seemed ludicrous, but Harry was almost certain.
Zacharias had been a somewhat reluctant member of the DA in Harry’s fifth year at Hogwarts, but although he had always been sceptical, rude and obnoxious, Harry could never have envisaged him as a Death Eater…
What did this mean? Smith was in Hufflepuff during his schooldays, and despite his cantankerous nature Harry had never had reason to believe he was an active supporter of Voldemort. Perhaps Robards was right about people being Imperiused, thought Harry; or maybe Smith had simply subscribed to this new, dangerous group for reasons unknown.
Harry contented himself with the realization that he needn’t call any emergency meetings for this. No, he would just have a quiet word with Kingsley in the morning. Harry allowed himself to drift into what, this time, was a dreamless sleep.
* *
“Zacharias Smith? Are you sure, Harry?”
Hermione cast aside her copy of the Daily Prophet and peered at Harry over her goblet of pumpkin juice. It was lunch break and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat at their usual table in the corner of the Ministry’s refectory.
“Pretty sure,” replied Harry, glancing at Hermione’s newspaper to see a picture of his own face on the front page. He couldn’t say it felt good to be back in the limelight again; everyone at the Ministry, apart from the Aurors, had been glancing at him all morning and muttering behind their hands to each other as if he couldn’t hear. It was like being back at Hogwarts.
“You do know that Zacharias works in my department, Harry?” said Hermione. “I must say, he was one of the only opponents “ along with Mummy and Daddy who no doubt got him his job in the first place “ when we pushed the final Anti-Pro-Pureblood Laws through a couple of years ago. Maybe that’s what all this is about: blood status again. Though why it would help them to kill you and the old Death Eaters, I don’t know…”
Ron had been looking sceptical ever since Smith’s name was mentioned, but Harry didn’t care; Ron had not shown any sign of annoyance so far at all the attention Harry was getting, and Harry appreciated this. Thankfully, Ron seemed to understand how Harry had almost been killed and wasn’t showing any signs of bitterness.
“Look, I know Zacharias is a git and everything,” said Ron, taking a huge bite into a sausage roll. “But, come on, I can’t see him risking his neck to try and make some point about pure-bloods. I mean, he was in Hufflepuff…”
“Ron, you can’t presume Harry’s wrong just because Smith was in Hufflepuff,” snapped Hermione. “The Sorting process is a very arbitrary event and people make too many generalizations and judgments about it. Look at Snape and Pettigrew, for example “ in the end they both chose completely different paths to their house stereotypes.”
“Blimey ’Er-my-nee,” said Ron, his mouth full of potato now. He took a big swallow and continued, “I didn’t ask for an essay about the Sorting Hat. Anyway, I’m just saying, apart from the odd exception, it doesn’t take a genius to realise that most of the old Death Eaters were Slytherins.”
“So have you told anyone about this, Harry?” asked Hermione, after shooting a quick glare at Ron.
“Not yet, but I’m going to have a quick word with Kingsley this afternoon. I’m not going to Savage “ knowing him, he’ll march straight into the Magical Law Office and start demanding alibis for Smith. I’m hoping Kingsley will agree that it would be best to spy on him for a while, see what he’s up to. We’ve got an advantage as long as they think we don’t know who any of them are.”
“True,” said Hermione. “But it makes you wonder, doesn’t it “ how many other Ministry workers could be in on it? If they’re planning to take over the Ministry, they’re probably very well placed to do so if Smith’s involvement is any precedent.”
At that moment, Harry glanced up and saw Zacharias Smith himself enter the refectory. Their eyes met, and for a split second Harry thought Zacharias was reaching for his wand “ but next moment he was withdrawing a few Sickles from a pocket in his robes and had averted his eyes to the witch serving Cauldron Cakes. He then took a seat with two people Harry recognized from Hogwarts: Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott, both of whom had been in Slytherin.
Ron, following Harry’s gaze, noticed Smith sat with the Slytherins, and gave a large snort. “OK mate, forget I ever doubted you,” he said, as if Smith’s company proved beyond all doubt where his allegiances lay.
Harry was too lost in thought to notice Hermione glaring at Ron again.
Zacharias Smith had never been friends with Nott or Greengrass at school. Did this mean that they were indeed acquaintances in this group of neo-Death Eaters? Although Ron had put it very bluntly, Harry thought he had a point; he wouldn’t put it past any Slytherin to be involved in a group like the Death Eaters. Harry glanced round the refectory, wondering how many of the other people sat around him had been out on their broomsticks pursuing him two nights ago, or else murdering people in Azkaban. He certainly hoped that Smith and the two Slytherins were the only ones.
Harry suddenly realised that in the drama of the previous day, he had completely forgotten to tell Ron and Hermione about Ginny’s pregnancy. Making his mind up on the spot, Harry said, “Listen, you two, do you want to come round for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Yes, we’d love to,” said Hermione, and Ron nodded in agreement.
“Good, there are a few things I’d like to discuss “ plus, you haven’t visited for a while anyway.”
“What’s the security on the house like? Will we not be able to Apparate?” asked Hermione.
“Well, I got Ginny to put anti-Apparition jinxes on the house the night I was attacked because, well, I couldn’t be positive that you two were safe,” said Harry. Ron had been Harry’s Secret-Keeper ever since he’d moved into Godric’s Hollow six years ago. “But now that things have settled down a bit, we’ve taken the jinxes off. No one but you two could Apparate in anyway.”
This was the other reason why Harry wanted to invite Ron and Hermione “ he realised that if he was in danger, it was only the next logical step for the enemy, if they knew what they were doing, to attack Ron and Hermione, or torture them for information on his whereabouts. Harry needed to arrange their protection.
When the lunch break ended, Harry parted with Ron and Hermione and headed for Kingsley’s office.
Before he could knock on the varnished oak door, it opened from the inside and a trickle of wizards and witches leaked out, chatting in undertones and comparing scrawled notes on pieces of parchment as they walked.
As Harry saw the last of them depart, Kingsley appeared in the doorway.
“Harry?” said Kingsley, spotting him as he was about to close the door.
“Hi, Kingsley, I was wondering if I could have a quick chat?”
“Yes, come in, I don’t have any more meetings for an hour.”
Harry entered the large, richly furnished room, which seemed much more spacious than yesterday “ probably because it didn’t have a crowd of people round the table.
“Reporters…” sighed Kingsley, offering Harry a seat. “They were probing for details and names of the guards killed in Azkaban. I had to tell them, of course. We moved the bodies this morning and it was hard enough without photographers buzzing round too.”
Harry thought he’d get straight to the point. “Kingsley... I think I know who one of my attackers was. The one that spoke to me.”
“Go on,” said Kingsley, raising his eyebrows.
“I think it was Zacharias Smith. You know, the guy from the Magical Law Department, here at the Ministry.”
“I see. Do you want permission to question him? Have you told Savage?”
“No, Kingsley. I think we should just keep an eye on him, see if he’s meeting anyone. And I came straight to you, instead of Savage, because I’d rather it stayed between us. We’re in a difficult position “ there are obviously some people we can’t trust.”
“I want you to know, Harry, that I trust Savage completely. He may be a little direct or paranoid about his leadership at times, but his heart is in the right place.”
“Oh, I agree,” said Harry quickly. “I just meant that I thought we should keep this off the record. There could be others within the Ministry spying for information.”
Kingsley contemplated this and nodded slowly. “Yes, well you have my permission to do your own poking around, if that helps. That’s the only way we can keep it truly off the record.”
“Well, Savage is obviously working us pretty hard at the moment, but I’ll do what I can. In the meantime, just be on your guard around Smith.” said Harry.
“Thank you for confiding this, Harry.”
Kingsley shook Harry’s hand, and Harry departed for the Auror Office, hoping Savage hadn’t noticed his brief absence.
* *
Harry didn’t get home until seven that night. The Senior Aurors had been piecing together all the information they could throughout the day, brainstorming possible motives and suspects for the murders in Azkaban and Harry’s attack.
Ginny, whose Quidditch training had been cancelled over the last two days due to fears of security, was sat in the living room reading the latest issue of Which Broomstick? when Harry arrived.
“There you are,” said Ginny, beaming, standing up to hug him. “I’m starving, what’s kept me waiting?”
“Most people are doing overtime at the moment,” sighed Harry, as Ginny strolled into the kitchen to heat the dinner she had already prepared.
“Better than sitting on your bum all day,” came Ginny’s voice from the kitchen, as Harry gladly slouched into an armchair and flicked open a copy of the Evening Prophet. Already depressed enough about the 'Azkaban Scandal', as it had been dubbed, Harry skipped through the first few pages “ which included a nasty article, by Rita Skeeter, about how Kingsley was losing his touch and that Dementors needed to be reinstated to Azkaban “ hoping to find some smaller stories that might be of interest.
His eyes paused on the headline Healers Confused over Confused Patients...
“Harry, come on, it’s ready,” called Ginny, and Harry left the Prophet open and followed the heavenly scent of chicken pie and treacle tart to the kitchen.
They discussed Ginny’s upcoming Quidditch match in the candlelight as they ate. The Auror department had arranged to send guards to supervise Ginny’s remaining practises throughout the week, which were to resume tomorrow, and Ginny was hoping to win the final game of the season against Puddlemere United that coming Sunday, which would seal the Cup for the Harpies for the first time in 52 years.
“I just hope Wood’s not recovered from that Bludger yet,” said Ginny. “He cost us the League when we played them last year “ we scored just once all match, remember?”
“You’ll do fine,” smiled Harry. “Your Seeker this year has been incredible. As long as she gets an early catch, it’s all yours.”
“Yeah, especially when she’s up against Malfoy. He’s caught the Snitch just twice all seas “” Ginny stopped abruptly as Harry dropped his goblet and sprayed pumpkin juice over the table.
“Harry! What’s wrong?”
“Malfoy. He used to be a Death Eater, too. But he’s not in Azkaban, is he!”
Ginny’s eyes widened.
“What if they went after Malfoy too?” exclaimed Harry, standing up. “I’ll have to check, now. I’m going to his house.”
“But, Harry “ you should get backup or something, it could be dangerous… I mean, for all we know, Malfoy could be behind those murders himself.”
“Draco? No, I trust him. I can’t exactly say I love him, but I’m sure he’s on our side now. And I’m not going to the Ministry for help because there could be spies.”
“Well then, I’m coming with you at least,” said Ginny, fetching her cloak from the hall.
“No. In case it is dangerous, I don’t want you there. You’re pregnant, for a start.”
Ginny scowled. “I’ve been stuck in here all day, and now you expect me to wait around a bit longer not knowing if you’re even safe?”
Harry hated making Ginny unhappy, but he couldn’t justify allowing her to come.
“Look, Gin, I’m not doing this just because I feel like it. I’m an Auror; it’s my job, I have a duty. Kingsley told me earlier on to go poking around myself if I have to. I won’t be long, I only have to check that he’s still alive…”
“Fine,” snapped Ginny. “But you can take Ron with you.”
“OK, good idea.”
Harry ran upstairs and rummaged through his bedroom drawer, withdrawing the two-way mirror he used for communicating with Ron and Hermione
“Ron Weasley,” stated Harry, and a minute later Ron’s freckled face emerged on the dusty mirror face.
“Harry? What’s wrong?” said Ron, his voice as clear as it would be if he was stood right next to Harry.
“I’ve just thought “ Malfoy wasn’t in prison with the other old Death Eaters. What if the new Death Eaters are after him, too?”
“Blimey, I didn’t think of that.”
“I’m going to call at his house now, to make sure he’s alright. Will you come with me?”
“Yeah, course.”
“OK, just Apparate straight here when you’re ready and we’ll go together.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes then, I’ll need to tell Hermione.”
* *
Five minutes later, Ron materialised in Harry’s kitchen. He was still wearing his black Auror robes.
Although she was still wearing a faint scowl, Ginny placed her arms around Harry and kissed him on the cheek (Ron looked away determinedly at this point).
“We’ll be back soon,” said Harry, returning her kiss and then drawing away.
“Just be careful.”
Harry linked arms with Ron and they Disapparated together. After a few seconds of feeling like he was being forced through a tight rubber tube, a sensation he was so used to that he barely even noticed it these days, Harry emerged into the cool night air. After lighting their wand-tips, Harry and Ron found themselves on a mud pathway surrounded by bushes and trees.
“How do you even know where Malfoy lives?” asked Ron, almost accusingly, as he followed Harry toward a wooden gate where the trees ended.
“I was invited to his wedding a couple of years ago.”
“Oh yeah, and where was my invite?” asked Ron sarcastically.
“He probably never forgave you for calling him a two-faced bastard and punching him in the face,” said Harry, opening the wooden gate.
Ron laughed. “Well, I had a point though, didn’t “”
Ron stopped dead next to Harry. Ahead of them was not the neat, thatched cottage that Harry remembered, but a mass of ash, burnt wood, strewn straw and blasted fragments of stone. Large patches of grass were bare and blackened around the debris, as if a massive fire had been raging. It was more a wreckage site than the remains of a cottage.
Harry glanced at Ron, who nodded, and they stepped into the clearing toward the rubble, not noticing the four broomsticks circling overhead.