Thrown Back: Chapter 40

Chapter 40

The next two weeks were mercifully quiet, if not a little busy. Lily and her friends continued to run Mirror Image, which was swamped from the moment they opened until the moment they closed with Witches and Wizards eager to buy the latest and greatest.

At the Wolf’s Den, Narcissa and Bellatrix oversaw the manufacturing of the mirrors. Meanwhile, Harry expanded and converted the basement of the main office into a temporary prison that now housed the two dozen werewolves they had captured. A handful of Aurors kept watch over them, though it didn’t appear to be necessary. Each was held in a golden cage that they quickly learned would shock them painfully if they tried to touch it.

Agatha and Andromeda were none too gentle without anyone who tried to avoid or disrupt their treatment. Their less-than-friendly bedside manner was understandable. After all, the werewolves had tried to kill them and everyone else at the Wolf’s Den when they attacked. It only took a couple of days for most of the werewolves to learn it was best to do as they were told. Only a couple decided to put up a fight occasionally, and they were swiftly dealt with.

Things were also starting to move along at the Ministry. Bartemius Crouch, after weeks of delays and politicking behind the scenes, had finally been called before the Wizengamot to answer for some of his recent decisions. Charlus led the questioning from his side of the aisle. Crouch spent three increasingly uncomfortable days being grilled about his decisions regarding the use of Harry’s mirrors, how he handled the threat Voldemort posed, and a large number of other small decisions that Charlus took issue with.

Harry didn’t attend the meeting regularly due to his other responsibilities and, frankly, his lack of interest in politics in general. However, he didn’t attend the third day of questioning at Charlus’ urging, and what he saw was surprising. Crouch’s explanations would have been understandable if taken one at a time but viewed in their totality, one after the other, the level of incompetence he showed in dealing with issues was plain for all to see.

Unfortunately, and as usual, politics made everything as clear as mud. While Crouch had quite clearly made some nearly disastrous mistakes, he still had enough support that removing him from his position as Head of the DMLE would be a close vote. Charlus assured Harry he would do all he could, but the younger man wasn’t convinced it would be enough.

They needed competent leadership, and he wasn’t above breaking a few laws to do what it took to ensure that happened; and when Crouch refused to sign the search warrants for Avery’s office, it gave Harry all the excuse he needed to justify his next move.

To himself, at least.

~

Greyson and Jenna crept softly through the streets of Knockturn Alley, their identities concealed under heavy black cloaks. It was early morning, the time when the alley was at its quietest, and the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, turning the sky a deep purple. Despite the rising sun, the tall buildings and narrow streets kept them in dark shadows. A gloom hung in the air as if the entire area had been cured to be perpetually dark and dreary.

Silently, the pair crept to the back alley that led to Avery’s brothel, where they met two more cloak figures. Kingsley and Elizabeth lifted their heads just enough for Greyson and Jenna to recognize them.

“In position,” Kingsley said in a soft, rumbling whisper.

“You’re clear for the next couple of minutes,” Moody replied, his voice quiet and slightly tinny as it came through the Communications Charm they all wore.

With a nod, Kingsley stepped up to the back door and waved his wand in an intricate pattern. Greyson, Jenna, and Elizabeth kept a lookout as he stripped the alarms and cut a hole through the surprisingly sophisticated wards protecting the drab building.

A few moments later, he lowered his wand and pushed open the door. The four of them quickly slipped into the building, and Jenna closed the door behind them. With well-practiced coordination, they cleared the first floor of the dingy, dirty pub before quietly making their way upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, they found themselves entering a long hallway with half a dozen doors on either side. Kingsley gave a silent signal with his hand, and they broke into two groups. Greyson and Jenna went right, while Kingsley and Elizabeth went left.

Creeping along the worn, red carpet, Greyson came to the first door, slowly turned the handle, and eased it open. The room was dark, but there was just enough light for him to make out the silhouette of a woman lying on the bed. Raising his wand, he waved it in an arc and wiggled the tip. Blue sparks of magic appeared above the woman and gently floated down until they landed on her body. With a quiet sigh, she snuggled deeper into the threadbare blankets as the magic took hold and sent her into an enchanted sleep.

Backing out of the room, Greyson eased the door closed, turned to Jenna, and gave her a nod. The floorboards creaked softly under her feet when she turned and crept toward the next room. It was empty, as was the next, but in the third, they found a naked couple spooning on the beds. Blankets and sheets were strewn about, half lying on the floor. Jenna wrinkled her nose cutely when the thick, musky scent of sex and sweat reached her nose. Quickly, she cast a Sleeping Charm over the couple and back out of the room.

The next room was mercifully empty, and then they came to the door at the end of the hall. Greyson tried the handle, but it wouldn’t turn. He tried a couple of basic Unlocking Charms, but neither worked.

“All clear,” Kingsley whispered. “Three asleep.”

“Same here, but I’ve got a locked door at the end of the hall,” Greyson replied softly. “I can’t get it open.”

“On our way,” Kingsley replied.

Greyson lowered his wand and waited a few moments for Kingsley and Elizabeth to slink down to their end of the hall. Raising his wand, Kingsley spent a couple of minutes casting several spells at the lock without any success. He frowned; his brow furrowed in thought.

“Try Tribleck’s Charm,” Elizabeth suggested in a whisper.

Kingsley raised his wand, gave it a jab and a twist, and the lock clicked open. Elizabeth flashed him a smug smile before wiping it off her face as they opened the door. This room was larger than the other. On the left half sat a bed, nightstand, wardrobe, and vanity, all of which were much better quality than the furniture that filled the rest of the rooms. The right half of the roof was taken up by a large desk, haphazardly covered in loose scarps and rolls of parchment. Behind the desk, taking up the entire wall, sat a pigeonhole shelf. Each little cubicle was filled with scrolls held closed by dark red silk ribbons.

Kingsley and Greyson quickly cleared the room, wands at the ready, while Jenna and Elizabeth headed directly for the shelf.

“Is that what we’re looking for?” Kingsley asked.

Elizabeth pulled out one of the scrolls, unfurled it, and smiled.

“This is it,” she said.

“Bag it, and let’s get out of here,” Kingsley said.

Nodding, Jenna pulled a bag out of the inside pocket of her robes and set it on the floor. She and Elizabeth grabbed scrolls by the handful and stuffed them into the bag.

“Greyson, go give them a hand,” he ordered. “I’ll keep a lookout.”

Greyson did as he was told, and in a few minutes, they had picked the shelves clean. Elizabeth glanced at the parchment on the desk before grabbing that, too. Once they were done, she closed the bag, and the group trooped back downstairs.

“We’re ready to leave,” Kingsley said.

“Hang on,” Moody replied. “You’ve got a drunk walking down the alley. He’s turning… you’re clear. Go.”

Kingsley opened the door, and they quickly stepped outside. Kingsley and Elizabeth went back the way they’d come while Greyson and Jenna casually made their way back to the main entrance. Above them, the sky had turned from purple to light pink.

“Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning,” Greyson muttered.

“I don’t think it’s the sailors that need to be worried,” Jenna smirked.

~

Barnabus Cuff sat at his desk late in the afternoon, signing off on the latest edits to the next morning’s Daily Prophet. He had just finished reading over a scandalous piece written by a promising young witch named Rita Skeeter when there was a light knock at his door.

“What is it?” he yelled gruffly.

The door opened a crack, and his assistant, Marie, a young witch fresh out of Hogwarts with blonde hair and a pretty face, poked her head inside.

“Sir, there’s someone here to see you,” she said quietly.

“Tell them to come back tomorrow,” Barnabus grumbled loudly.

Before Marie could respond, the door was shoved open, and Dorea Potter strode into the office.

“It would be in your best interest to hear what I have to say now,” she said, peering down at him with her piercing violet gaze.

Sighing, Barnabus leaned to the side and made a shooing motion at Marie. She bit her lip nervously as she pulled the door closed and returned to her desk.

Dorea smoothed out her robes and sat primly in the chair across from him.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Potter?” Barnabus asked, leaning back in his chair, the buttons of his vest straining to hold back his rather corpulent stomach.

“I’ve been trying to get a couple of printing presses shipped over from Germany, but customs is being difficult,” she said, fixing him with a hard, cold stare. “I also know the head of magical customs happens to be your niece.”

“Come now, Dorea,” Barnabus smiled. “No need to be so upset. This is nothing personal. It’s just business.”

The corners of Dorea’s lips curled upwards in a cold, hard smile that caused his face to fall and sweat to gather on his brow.

“I’m so glad you feel that way,” she said.

The words and the fact that she seemed genuinely pleased caused a pit of worry to form in his stomach. A bead of sweat dripped down his temple, ran over to his chin, and then dripped down to the other before being absorbed by the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt much tighter than it had a moment ago.

Dorea unclasped the black purse in her lap, pulled out a much larger folder, and set it on the desk in front of him. Barnabus hesitated for a couple of seconds before shifting his weight forward and leaning over the desk. Flipping open the folder, his eyes widened, and his face paled.  

On the parchment in front of him, spelled out in excruciatingly painful detail, was every visit he’d ever made to Avery’s brothel. It listed the exact date and time he’d arrived, who he’d paid for, and how long he stayed. It even described the acts he’d performed and had performed on him in extremely graphic and unflattering terms.

“Does your wife know about your proclivity for young men?” Dorea asked.

Barnabus glanced up at her unsympathetic face, sat back heavily in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight, and considered his options. For a moment, he considered calling her bluff. After all, she didn’t have any photographic proof. However, with Avery in prison for attacking an Auror, there was no one to keep her former employees quiet. If Dorea could get even a few to talk, his reputation, not to mention his marriage, would be destroyed.

“What do you want?” he asked weakly.

“My printing presses,” Dorea replied. “I think it’s time the Prophet had some competition.”

“I’ll have them through customs first thing in the morning,” he assured her.

If that was all she wanted, he considered himself lucky.

“Wonderful,” Dorea smiled as she climbed to her feet and made her way to the door, only to turn back halfway there. “Don’t look so upset, Barny. It’s only business,” she smirked.

Barnabus heaved a sigh as she left his office and poured himself a scotch.

~

It was eight past three in the morning as Harry stood in the basement of Potter Manor. In front of him, two printing presses clattered so loudly it hurt his ears. The pages of The Daily Reflection flew off of the presses and folded themselves neatly of their own accord before stacking themselves in an ever-growing pile.

“Does it have to be so loud!?” Bellatrix shouted over the din.

“Unfortunately, yes!” Dorea shouted back. “Muffling Charms interfere with the enchantments! It should be finished soon!”

The presses chose that moment to send off one last paper before stuttering to a stop.

“Thank Merlin,” Lily sighed, pulling her fingers out of her ears.

“Did you have to print so many?” James whined, glancing at the seemingly endless stacks of newspapers that occupied most of the basement. “How many subscribers do you even have?”

“Right now, none,” Dorea replied. “We’re giving the first edition away for free.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said, sticking his pinky in his ear and shaking it about, “did you say free?”

“Yes,” she replied. “It was Narcissa’s idea, and frankly, it’s brilliant. This issue will definitely get people’s attention. Subscriptions will be flying in after people read this.”

“Great,” James muttered. “Can we go back to bed now?”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Charlus said, grabbing him by the shoulder as he turned to leave.

“What do you need us to do?” Lily asked eagerly.

“We need to bring all of these upstairs and send them off with the owls,” Dorea replied. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. There’s a spell to speed things up. This should only take us a couple of hours.”

“Hours?” James asked, horrified.

“You can lose a couple of hours of sleep to help your mother,” Charlus told him sternly. “This is only temporary. We should have employees to do all of this in a couple of days.”

“Fine,” James said, his shoulders slumped.

“Let’s get to work,” Dorea said, clapping her hands together. “We need to get these out before people start leaving for work.”

As everyone walked over to the stacks of newspapers to get started, Charlus put his hand gently on Harry’s shoulder. He stopped and looked up at the older man curiously.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Charlus asked. “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s important for people to be held accountable, but do you think this is the right time? There were a lot of important people on those scrolls. People we know and work with in the Wizengamot.”

“I’m positive,” Harry said, nodding with certainty. “There’s too much corruption at the Ministry. If we don’t clean it out now, we never will.”

Charlus didn’t look happy with his answer but nodded nonetheless. Walking over to the stacks of papers, Harry levitated a stack and carried it upstairs. Two hours later, hundreds of owls were winging their way across Britain, carrying the first-ever copies of The Daily Reflection.

~

Not an hour after the last owl had been sent on its way, Crouch stormed out of the Floo and into the living room of Potter Manor. His face was red with fury, his mustache twitched, and he clutched a crumpled newspaper in a white-knuckled grip.

“It’s illegal to abuse your position to bypass the lock on our Floo, you know,” Dorea said calmly, sitting on the couch and sipping a cup of tea.

Crouch’s mustache twitched as he stormed over and slammed the newspaper on the coffee table in front of her.

“What is the meaning of this!?” he hissed, jabbing at the headline with his finger.

Dorea leaned forward and glanced down at the paper.

Mass Corruption at the Ministry

Crouch Caught With Prostitute While Wife Lays Ill at St. Mungo’s

“I believe that’s called journalism,” she said, setting her teacup and saucer on top of the paper.

Crouch’s hand twitched like he wanted to reach for his wand but stopped himself. Dorea smirked at the look of fury on his face, which only enraged the man further.

“Where did you get this information,” he demanded.

“From a source who wishes to remain anonymous,” she replied levelly.

“This,” he hissed, jabbing a finger at the paper again, “information was obtained illegally. I know it. If you don’t tell me who it came from, I’ll have you arrested.”

 “You know the law as well as I do, Crouch,” she said unintimidated. “Unless you can prove this information was obtained illegally and that I knew about it, there’s nothing you can do.”

“To hell with the law!” Crouch shouted, his eyes glimmering madly. “If you don’t tell me where you got this from now, I’ll arrest you, your husband, and your son!”

“That’s quite enough.”

Crouch puffed himself up and spun around to yell at the person who’d interrupted him, only to freeze when he spotted the Ministry for Magic glaring at him. He barely registered Charlus standing next to her. The red flush of anger remained on his cheeks, but the rest of his face paled rapidly.

“Minister, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“I came to question Charlus about the article printed in their newspaper,” Bagnold said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He was just about to tell me when you stormed into their home, illegally, I might add, and interrupted us.”

“I see,” Crouch said, smoothing out his pin-stripped suit. “Then I’d quite like to hear-”

“No,” Bagnold said firmly. “As of this moment, you’re on administrative leave.”

His mustache twitched again.

“Surely you don’t believe-”

“What I believe is irrelevant,” she interrupted. “You’re too involved. Go home, Bartemius. Auror Bones will take over your duties.”

“But-”

“Go home, Bartemius. That’s an order.”

Taking a look around the room and meeting the unsympathetic gazes of Dorea and Charlus, Crouch turned and silently left through the Floo. When he was gone, Bagnold sighed and rubbed her forehead tiredly.

“Do you want to press charges for the invasion of privacy and the threats?” she asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Charlus said.

Bagnold nodded.

“Very well,” she said. “I’ll bring it up with Bones when I see him. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d very much like to see this evidence.”

As he ushered her back into his office, Dorea picked up her tea with a smirk and took a sip.