xxi. the next step
ϟ
"Sirius? About time you've shown up?"
Sirius was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment, he had crossed the room. "Matilda, are you alright? Where's Harry? I knew it ─ I knew something like this would happen."
Matilda swatted out at the hand that Sirius had reached out to check the spot on her cheek that turned out to be just dirt. She rolled her eyes as she found herself further into the familiar office.
"Yes, well, you and me both it seems like," Matilda crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to face Sirius. "I pleaded with him ─ Harry, not to go into that maze. I begged Dumbledore to stop it..."
Sirius' grey eyes locked on Matilda as his dark eyebrows drew together curiously. Just like her, he'd crossed his arms over his chest creating a striking resemblance between the two.
"You knew something was going to happen?" he asked Matilda.
She shook her head, "I had a feeling that something was going to happen ─ something bad. As usual, I was right."
"You remind of someone that I ─ a friend," said Sirius, a glint of a smile played at the corner of his dry, cracking lips. "She always prepared herself for the worst. Made for great intuition."
"You're talking about Rosaline..."
Sirius' head snapped upward. The name rang through his ears and his eyes widened in shock and horror. He hadn't been expecting Matilda to know the name, let alone who he was speaking about. Had she been told? Does she know the story?
"She was friends with my dad, I think," said Matilda, when Sirius didn't go to speak before her. "He tells me that I remind him of her. I'm named after her too."
Sirius nodded, "Matilda Rose Winters. I am aware."
A saddened and pained expression crossed over Sirius' ghostly features. His mind wandered back to Rosaline, Matilda's namesake. It didn't surprise him that Rueban would keep her intact through Matilda. In fact, it made perfect sense. Rosaline had been Rueban's most cherished friend.
Before anything more could be said about the mysterious Rosaline, Dumbledore appeared, opening the door to his office, Harry standing, barely visible behind him.
And just as he'd done with Matilda, Sirus rushed to Harry, taking him into his arms, checking his face and arms to make sure he'd remained unscathed for the better part of what happened. His hands shook as he helped Harry into a chair in front of the desk.
"What happened?" Sirius asked urgently.
Dumbledore began to tell Sirius and Matilda everything Barty Crouch had said. Matilda only half listening as she kept a close eye on Harry, who'd she'd sat down beside. He was tired. His eyelids twitching as they threatened to fall close on him.
There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Harry's knee.
"Hello, Fawkes," said Harry quietly. He stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet and gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at him.
Dumbledore had stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry and Matilda, behind his desk. He was looking at them, but Harry avoided his gaze. Dumbledore was about to question him, making Harry relive everything.
"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry," said Dumbledore.
"We can leave that 'til morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" said Sirius harshly. He had put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let him have sleep. Let him rest."
Matilda agreed with Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius' words. He leaned forward towards Harry. Very unwillingly, Harry raised his head and looked into those blue eyes.
"If I thought I could help you," Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep, and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."
Suddenly, without thought Matilda reached over and took Harry's hand, lacing her fingers through his. They were cold and clammy, but she gave him a comforting squeeze and the best possible look of confidence she could muster for him.
As he spoke, Matilda visualized his every word as if it was happening before her eyes. She saw the sparkling surface of the Potion which had revived Voldemort; she saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; she saw Cedric's body, lying on the ground beside the cup. Harry's words became so vivid that they began to make Matilda feel sick to her stomach.
It was as if she was feeling everything Harry had felt at that moment. His pain laced through their interlocked fingers and swam through her body so that she might take some of his sufferings.
Once or twice, Sirius made a noise as though about to say something, his hand still tight on Harry's shoulder, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him.
When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, however, Sirius let out a vehement exclamation; and Dumbledore stood up so quickly that it startled both Harry and Matilda. Dumbledore walked around the desk and told Harry to stretch out his arm. Harry showed them both the place where his robes were torn, and the cut beneath them.
"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Harry told Dumbledore. "He said the protection my – my mother left in me – he'd have it, too. And he was right – he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."
For a fleeting instant, Matilda thought she saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. But next second, Matilda was sure he had imagined it, for when Dumbledore had returned to his seat behind the desk, he looked as old and weary as Matilda had ever seen him.
"Very well," he said, sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please."
Matilda tilted her head. She watched Dumbledore who focused intently on Harry. He was hiding something.
Harry went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told them all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. Then he told how Voldemort had untied him, returned his wand to him, and prepared to duel.
But when he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his and Voldemort's wands, his voice tightened. Harry tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into his mind.
"The wands connected?" Sirius said, looking from Harry to Dumbledore. "Why?"
Matilda looked up again at Dumbledore, on whose face there was an arrested look.
"Priori Incantatem," he muttered.
His eyes gazed into Harry's and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between them.
"The reverse spell effect?" Matilda questioned.
She'd read about it a time or two. Didn't think much of it until now.
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact,"
He added, and he pointed at the scarlet and gold bird, perching peacefully on Harry's knee.
"My wand's feather came from Fawkes?" Harry said, amazed.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago."
"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?" said Sirius.
"They will not work properly against each other," said Matilda, remembering what she'd read about sibling wands.
Dumbledore nodded, "And if, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle... a very rare effect will take place."
"What's that?" asked Sirius impatiently.
"One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed – in reverse. The most recent first... and then those which preceded it..."
He looked interrogatively at Harry, and Harry nodded.
"Which means," said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Harry's face, "that some form of Cedric must have reappeared."
Harry nodded again.
"Cedric came back to life?" asked Matilda quickly.
"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Dumbledore heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Cedric would have emerged from the wand... am I correct, Harry?"
"He spoke to me," Harry said. He was suddenly shaking again. "The... the ghost Cedric, or whatever he was, spoke."
"An echo," said Dumbledore, "Which retained Cedric's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared... less recent victims of Voldemort's wand..."
"An old man," Harry said, his throat still constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And..."
"Your parents?" said Dumbledore quietly.
"Yes," said Harry.
Matilda's heart clenched as Harry squeezed Matilda's hand a little tighter in his grief.
"The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows... what did they do?"
Harry described how the figures which had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's father had told him what to do, how Cedric's had made its final request.
At this point, Harry found he could not continue. He looked around at Sirius and saw that he had his face in his hands.
"I will say it again," said Dumbledore, as the phoenix rose into the air, and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it – and you have now given us all that we have a right to expect. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace ... Sirius, would you like to stay with him?"
"I think I'd also like to be with Harry," said Matilda quickly.
"Your family, Matilda," Dumbledore reminded her of the very people she was purposely avoiding. "Your father must be looking for you by now."
She shook her head, "The boy my sister loved is dead. I would be little help to her right now."
Noticing her pained expression Dumbledore nodded, "Very well, Matilda will stay with you too, Harry."
Harry nodded, putting up no argument. In fact, he was relieved to have her by his side, just as she's been all this year.
Sirius transformed back into the great black dog, and walked with Harry, Matilda, and Dumbledore out of the office, accompanying them down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing.
When Dumbledore pushed open the door, Matilda saw Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. They appeared to be demanding to know where Harry was and what had happened to him.
All of them whipped around as Harry, Matilda, Dumbledore, and the black dog entered, and Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream. "Harry! Oh, Harry!"
She started to hurry towards him, but Dumbledore moved between them.
"Molly," he said, holding up a hand, "Please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," he added, looking around at Ron, Hermione, and Bill, too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very white.
She rounded on Ron, Hermione, and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"
"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was Sirius, "May I ask what –?"
"This dog will be remaining with Harry for a while," said Dumbledore simply. "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. Harry – I will wait while you get into bed."
As Madam Pomfrey led Harry to a nearby bed Matilda followed and they caught sight of the real Moody lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. His wooden leg and magical eye were lying on the bedside table.
"Is he ok?" Harry asked.
"He'll be fine," said Madam Pomfrey, giving Harry some pajamas and pulling screens around him.
Matilda stood on the opposite side. Her back turned to the screen. The other, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Bill, and Sirius lingered back to hear what Dumbledore had to say. Madam Pomfrey pulled the screen back when Harry had finished and climbed into bed. The others still hadn't noticed. Too hung up on the words Dumbledore was telling them.
With a sigh, Matilda sat on the chair that Madam Pomfrey had placed beside the infirmary bed. She leaned back and ran a shaking hand through her long, tangled dark hair. Dumbledore was probably right when he said her dad would be looking for her by now. Or perhaps he wasn't. Perhaps, he was too busy consoling a weeping Harper as she thought about Cedric dropping dead at her little sister's feet.
It was unfair. The heartbreak Harper would have to face ─ the grief she'd feel, none of it was fair. How is it that Matilda and her friends come out unscathed every year, and the year someone she cares about gets involved, they die? Matilda wouldn't be surprised ─ or blame Harper if she didn't want to see her right now.
Because the person Matilda loved survived.
"Tilly..."
Harry had sat onto the hospital bed and laid back, turning his head though so that he was looking at Matilda. She glanced upward at him, pushing the thoughts of a grieving older sister to the back of her mind and focused only on Harry.
"The Death Eaters," he whispered. His eyelids were becoming heavier with each blind. "Lucius Malfoy and Lawton ─ Lawton Morgenster, they were all ─ they were all there. They were waiting to watch me die."
Matilda's eyes widened as she leaned up, ready to question Harry further on the Death Eaters. But his eyes had already closed for good now. And deciding not to wake him, Matilda reached up and carefully pulled his glasses from his face and placed them on the bedside table.
ϟ
Matilda hadn't realized how tired she'd been until she woke up on the wooden chair beside Harry's bed. Seeming more rested than she'd been in months. No one had moved to wake her, knowing the stress she'd put on herself to keep Harry afloat. It'd only been a few hours of sleep at most, as the sky was still darkened outside the infirmary windows, and everyone still sat, waiting beside Harry.
A new face amongst the crowd was Rueban Winters who'd found his youngest daughter. She glanced over at him, he'd been watching her. His face long and tired just as she'd expected it to be. His dark eyes sunken in and the wrinkles beside his eyes and on his forehead had become more prominent.
Without a word, Matilda stood up from her spot and slowly made her way over to where her father stood in an empty corner of the room.
"How's Harper?" she whispered.
Rueban only shook his head. His expression told her more than any of his words could. Matilda sucked in a shaky breath and tears brimmed over her eyes.
"I couldn't..." she shook her head. "I couldn't face her."
He nodded, pulling Matilda into his chest and wrapping his two arms tightly around her, resting his chin on the top of her head, "I know... I'm just glad you're safe."
"Does she hate me?" asked Matilda, pulling back and out of her dad's embrace.
The thought of Harper hating her made Matilda sick to her stomach. She'd never thought much or cared much, of what Harper thought about her. Matilda had always put Harper's feelings beneath her own.
"Your sister is made at the world right now, Tilly," said Rueban.
But Matilda knew what that meant.
"That's a yes," she breathed heavily.
Rueban looked past Matilda, not wishing to repeat the words he'd heard Harper yell about Matilda and how unfair everything was because life always seemed to work in her favor. And the saddest part was that she was right. Somehow Matilda seemed to always come out alive and with prizes to show for it.
"So," she cleared her throat, refusing to cry her unshed tears. "What now? She just isn't going to talk to me ever again?"
"Harper will be staying with your mother for a little while," said Rueban. "She will get better Matilda, she's just hurting."
Matilda nodded, she was well aware of the stages of grief. She'd read a book on them that she found in David's, her mum's husband's library. Anger was a normal part of grieving. But Matilda feared what Harper felt for Matilda surpassed only being angry with her.
"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor McGonagall. "When Dumbledore finds out –"
Matilda and Rueban's heads both turned in the direction of the shouts.
Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.
"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.
"He's not here," said Mrs. Weasley angrily. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to –"
But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.
"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you – I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch –"
"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"
Matilda had never seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this. There were angry blotches of color in her cheeks, her hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with furty. Matilda was rooting for her to give one good swing in Fudge's direction.
"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a Dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch –"
"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" stormed Professor McGonagall. "I told him you would never allow Dementors to set foot inside the castle, but –"
"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, who likewise looked angrier than Matilda had ever seen him. "As Minister for Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous –"
But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.
"The moment that – that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and – and –"
Rueban suddenly stepped forward, eyeing Cornelius Fudge, a darkened expression taking over his features.
"Crouch is dead?" he asked.
Professor McGonagall struggled to find words to describe what had happened. He did not need her to finish her sentence. He knew what the Dementor must have done. It had administered its fatal kiss to Barty Crouch. It had sucked his soul out through his mouth. He was worse than dead.
"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"
"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Rueban. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."
"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"
"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."
Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavyweight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard.
He began to splutter, still goggling at Dumbledore."You-Know-Who... returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore..."
"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," said Dumbledore, "We heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort – learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins – went to free him from his father, and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."
"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, and Harry was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "You – you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who – back? Come now, come now... certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders – but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."
"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."
Dumbledore glanced around at Harry, Matilda's gaze followed, and they saw he was awake, but shook his head and said, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."
Fudge's curious smile lingered.
He too glanced at Harry, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are – er – prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"
There was a moment's silence, which was broken by Sirius growling. His hackles were raised, and he was baring his teeth at Fudge.
"Certainly I believe Harry," said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."
Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at Harry before answering. "You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who... well..."
"A boy who what, Minister?" asked Matilda, stepping up to him challengingly.
Fudge shot Harry another look.
"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," he said quietly.
Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill all jumped. None of them had realized that Harry was awake.
Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.
"And if I have?" he said, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place –"
"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.
"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly – hallucinations?"
"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step towards Fudge, and once again he seemed to radiate that indefinable sense of power that Matilda had admired in him. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."
Fudge had taken half a step back from Dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn. "You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before..."
"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouted. He tried to get out of bed again, but Mrs. Weasley forced him back. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy –"
Snape made a sudden movement, but as Harry looked at him, Snape's eyes flew back to Fudge.
"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family – donations to excellent causes –"
"Morgenstern!" Harry continued.
"Never proven! And working for the Ministry!"
"Avery – Nott – Crabbe – Goyle – Macnair –"
"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore – the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year, too – his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them – the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"
"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"
"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"
"All you've managed to do in the past thirteen years is sweep your mistakes under a rug," said Matilda, Rueban catching her shoulder before she could run up on Fudge. "We are in danger and you're still trying to hide behind lies because you fear disruption. Coward!"
Matilda couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd always known Fudge was a questionable Minister, blustering and pompous, but at least she believed him to be good-natured. But now a short, angry wizard who stood before everyone, refusing, point-blank, to accept the prospect of disruption in his comfortable ordered world ─ to believe that Voldemort could have risen.
"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straight away, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the Dementors –"
"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the Dementors! I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the Dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"Dementors feed of despair, Minister," said Rueban warningly. "What do Voldemort's supporters cause?"
Fudge glared at Rueban, refusing to offer a counterargument.
"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the Dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"
Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.
"The second step you must take – and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "Is to send envoys to the giants."
"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"
"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "Or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"
"You – you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head, and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants – people hate them, Dumbledore – end of my career –"
"You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "By the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your Dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any – and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now – take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers for Magic we have ever known. Fail to act – and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside, and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"
"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad..."
And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. Mrs. Weasley was still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him rising. Bill, Ron, and Hermione were staring at Fudge. And Rueban had a tight hold of Matilda's wrist, keeping her from reaching her wand that had been tucked into the waistband of her skirt.
"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "We have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I – I shall act as I see fit."
Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore was advancing upon him with a wand.
"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students, without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me –"
"The only one against whom I intend to work," said Dumbledore, "Is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."
It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forwards on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands.
Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be..."
Snape strode forwards, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.
"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was, an hour or so ago when it burnt black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burnt into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing each other, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's, too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."
Fudge stepped back from Snape, too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled, at the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."
He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.
"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket, and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but in the circumstances..."
He crammed his bowler hat onto his head, and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry's bed.
"There is work to be done," he said. "Molly, Arthur... Rueban, am I right in thinking I can count on the three of you?"
Rueban nodded, without hesitation.
"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "He knows what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."
"Then I need to send a message to him," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and Arthur and Rueban is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as short-sighted as Cornelius."
"I'll go too," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry –"
"Leave it to me," said Bill.
He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.
"Minerva," said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also – if she will consent to come – Madame Maxime."
Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.
"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "Would you be very kind, and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."
"Very – very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.
Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away before he spoke again.
"And now," he said, "It is time for two of our numbers to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius... if you could resume your usual form."
The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.
Mrs. Weasley screamed and leaped back from the bed.
"Sirius Black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.
"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's alright!"
Glancing backward at her father Matilda expected a confused or shocked expression at the revelation, but he only grinned, as if he was happy to see an old friend, forgetting the fact that he was a supposed murderer.
Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.
"Him!" he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is he doing here?"
"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "As are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences, and trust each other."
Matilda thought Dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.
"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "For a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us."
Very slowly – but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill – Sirius and Snape moved towards each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.
"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher– the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while, I will contact you there."
"But –" said Harry.
"You'll see me very soon, Harry," said Sirius, turning to him. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah... of course I do."
Sirius grasped his hand briefly. He looked back at Rueban, grinning, quickly Rueban pulled Sirius into a hug, patting his back.
"It's good to have you back..." whispered Rueban.
Smiling, Sirius stepped away, "Thank you. Thank you for everything."
Rueban nodded and Sirius looked down at Matilda.
"Don't expect an emotional goodbye from me," she told him.
He smiled.
"I'll see you soon, Matilda," he told her. "I'm sure of it."
Finally, Sirius nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.
"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "You know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready... if you are prepared..."
"I am," said Snape.
He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then, good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.
It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.
"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggory's. Harry – take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."
Harry slumped back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappeared. Hermione, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley were all looking at him while Matilda lingered beside her dad. None of them spoke for a very long time.
"You've got to take the rest of your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on his bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while... think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"
"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."
"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Mrs. Weasley whispered.
"I told him to take the Cup with me," said Harry.
Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry.
There was a loud slamming noise, and Mrs. Weasley and Harry broke apart. Hermione was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.
"Sorry," she whispered.
Curious Matilda looked back at her. Hermione noticed her quirked eyebrow and mouthed the words, 'later,' to Matilda. She nodded and turned back to face Harry.
"Your potion, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.
Harry drank it in one. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over him, he fell back onto his pillows and thought no more.
And despite wanting to be there for Harry, Matilda had been run out of the infirmary by her father and Mrs. Weasley, insisting she needs a nice rest as well. And she knew she did. It'd been months since she'd slept without worry.
Keeping Harry Potter alive was hard work.
"You knew Sirius was back all along?"
Matilda turned back to question her dad as he accompanied her to the Ravenclaw Tower. A path he'd taken as a student here a million different times. It'd been where he'd met Matilda's mum, where he shared his first kiss with her.
"I did," Rueban admitted. "We've kept in contact."
"What was it he thanked you for?" asked Matilda.
Rueban chuckled, raising his eyebrows, "I'd done a favor or two for him a long while ago. When he was in trouble."
Matilda nodded. She could tell her dad wasn't being truthful with her, but she thought for the time it would be best she let him believe that she was buying his crap story. Because she knew that she'd find the truth. She always does eventually.
That feeling in her stomach had returned. The kind that came as a warning. That told her something was going to happen. And she knew it was from her finally deciding to delve into the past of Sirius, her dad, and whoever Rosaline was.
The small voice in her head told her to step away. To forget about it. Because this truth would be something to change her entire world.
But Matild had never feared her curiosity before, and she wasn't about to start today.
ϟ
AN:// the long-awaited update is here, and I hope you've enjoyed it.
Voldemort is officially back. How are we thinking Matilda's gonna take this? And with so many family secrets she's finally learning about.
Sorry for the wait. I had to take a step back and fall back in love with this book. But I'm back, and hopefully here to stay.