"Harry? Can we talk about something?" Ron asked as they finished up their training for the day.
"Sure," Harry replied distractedly, doing some cool-down stretches.
"…It's about the werewolf attack on the Ministry," he said, finally broaching the subject he had been dancing around for the last couple of days. "The magic you used.. you didn't do that at Hogwarts."
"No," Harry shook his head. "I didn't. It's something new I learned how to do recently."
"Yeah," Ron replied, "I figured that… look," he sighed. "I'm not good at this stuff, but are you okay? Really okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied tersely. "What's this about, Ron?" he asked, feeling like his friend was beating around the bush, rather that getting straight to it like he usually did.
"I dunno, maybe… maybe I'm reading too much into this… but you don't seem fine," he observed.
"Ron," Harry replied, letting out along sigh. "We've been through this. I've even been through this with Daniela. I'm okay, not great, but I'm dealing with it in my own way."
"Yeah," Ron conceded. "Or maybe you don't see it," he added quietly.
"See what?" Harry asked defensively.
"I'm not attacking you, Harry," Ron replied. "…Look, I'm just worried. You've been different since you woke up from your coma."
"Different how?" Harry asked.
"That's just it. I don't know," Ron replied, shaking his head. "You're still you… but you're also not. You're more… serious. Do you even remember the last time you took a break?"
"And that's a bad thing?" Harry asked, confused. "The country is falling apart around us. Greyback is out there doing god knows what, the Ministry is locking up innocent people in Azkaban, and the werewolf task force is terrorizing everyone else."
"…It isn't all on you, Harry," Ron replied.
"Then who?" Harry demanded. "Because I don't see anyone who's job it is to do something stepping up."
"Me, and Hermione, and Draco," Ron replied. "Just let us in. Tell us what's going on. You don't have to do this all on your own."
"I can't," Harry sighed. "We've been through this before. You need to learn Occlumency, and I'm sorry, but with everything going on, I just don't have the time to teach you."
"Alright, then just listen," Ron replied. "All the fighting you've done — with George, with the werewolves, with the task force, I understand why you did it. Hell, I even agree that you had to do it."
"Then what?" Harry demanded. "What's the problem?"
"It used to take a lot to get you from talking about something to fighting about it," Ron pointed out, "but not so much anymore."
"Ron…" Harry said, letting out a weary sigh. "We lost people. People we didn't have to lose if I had just been willing to make those calls sooner, instead of giving people second chances they didn't deserve," he added. "I can't make that mistake again now that I know what it costs."
"That's on all of us, Harry, not just you," Ron replied. "And it's not a mistake. It's the best part of you. You can't lose that."
"…Ron," Harry sighed, looking away. "I wish I could explain…" But he didn't know how. What he had done with his pain, his anguish. How he locked it all away before he drowned in it.
"No Harry. You need to hear this," Ron interrupted. "In the wizarding world there's always a dark witch or wizard around the corner, and I used to think that's just the way it was.. at least until I met you."
"That's when I got it. Dark witches and wizards don't just come out of nowhere. They show up when we believe one group of people is better than another."
"We believe goblins are magical creatures instead of people, and we get goblin uprisings. We believe muggleborns are taking over our society, and we end up with dark lords that force us into endless wars to reclaim a culture we never lost. We make laws to stigmatize werewolves, and we end up with Greyback."
"All these things happen when we stop talking to each other and go straight to attacking each other," Ron continued. "And there's way too many people on the other side already."
Harry sighed, looking down as he considered Ron's words, but still came to the same conclusion. "…I'm sorry," he finally said. "I wish there were another way, but there isn't."
"Harry, you're my best mate. I'd follow you to the ends of the earth," Ron said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "So would Draco, and Hermione, and it's not become you're strong. It's because you care. Don't forget that," Ron said as he walked back to the house.
Harry watched Ron walk away silently.
"He isn't wrong," Merlin said. "What you're doing is dangerous, Harry, and you know it."
"…" Harry remained silent, unwilling to confront the pain and regret buried inside him.
***
Rufus sat in his office, staring out the window as he considered his options for what felt like the thousandth time.
He had spent the last few days personally investigating Amelia's claims, speaking with other members of the task force, and what he found shocked him.
Not only was everything Amelia said completely true, but it was just the tip of the iceberg. Four of the seven members of the task force he trusted Harkwell to hire were doing the same things as Harkwell, harassing people on the streets, making threats, intimidation. The list just went on, and on.
The whole point of the task force was to show the people that the Ministry and the Wizengamot were taking the werewolf threat seriously, and salvage his beleaguered reputation in the process.
To make matters worse, the task force had been his idea. He presented it to the Wizengamot directly as his new and innovative strategy to handle the werewolf problem, and because o that he had no one to pass the blame onto.
He went to the fireplace, throwing in a pinch of floo powder, knowing he couldn't put off this long overdue conversation any longer, and fire called his old mentor, Gideon Harkwell.
"Rufus," Harkwell smiled. "It's good to see you. We're making some real progress. I think—"
"Gideon," Rufus interrupted. "Step through. We need to discuss something important."
"It'll have to wait, I'm just about to—"
"No," Rufus said, shaking his head, his voice taking on a harder edge. "Step through now; that's an order."
The friendly smile dropped from Harkwell's face as he stepped through the fireplace into the Minister's office.
"Have a seat," Rufus said coldly, pointing to the chair in front of him.
Harkwell let out a deep sigh, already having an idea of what this was about — the Potter brat.
"I had a talk with Amelia," Rufus started, "about your visit to the Burrow."
"Yeah? You set her straight?" Harkwell asked, expecting his former protégé to back him.
"Set her straight?" Rufus asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You didn't, did you?" Harkwell said with a frustrated sigh. "That's always been your problem, Rufus, even back when I was training you — too focused on pleasing everyone instead of doing the actual work."
Rufus set his jaw, at he glared at his onetime superior. "That was a long time ago. I'm the minister now, and your superior."
"Are you?" Harkwell asked, leaning back in his chair. "As far as the public knows, I'm an Auror reporting to the DMLE. On paper, I report directly to the Wizengamot. Where exactly are you in that chain of command?"
Rufus felt his left eye twitch, a combination of the stress he was under and the werewolf attack he was still recovering from. "Where am I?!" he demanded, standing up from his desk, his chair clattering to the floor behind him.
"I'm the one that got you out of that hovel you call a cabin in the middle of nowhere that you've been living in for the better part of the last decade as little more than a beggar!" He said, pointing an angry finger at his former mentor. "I'm the one who stuck my neck out for you when everyone else in the DMLE forgot you ever existed!"
"It's the least you owe me," Harkwell barked back. "Or did you forget I was the one who pulled you out of the burning building the Death Eaters ambushed you in? Saved your life when everyone else wrote you off for dead!"
"Forget!? How could I, with you bringing it up every chance you get?" Rufus demanded. "And here I am dealing with your messes again. What the hell were you thinking going after Potter? Do you have any idea how badly this could have gone?"
Harkwell sat back down, sighing, still embarrassed over how everything turned out. "I miscalculated, alright?"
"Miscalculated?" Rufus asked in disbelief, pacing around his office. "Potter isn't just some kid! He's the strongest wizard alive! And most importantly, he's on our side, or at least he was until you went off half-cocked and mucked that up too!"
"I'm already working on a solution," Harkwell replied, more subdued this time. "In fact, that's what I was doing before you called me."
"Solution?" Rufus sighed, almost afraid to hear what his old mentor had to say. "What solution?"
"I don't have the men to get the job done," Harkwell replied, stating the obvious. "The Aurors Bones gave me are useless. The closest they've been to an actual battle is dealing with drunks at a Quidditch game. I have to replace them with men I fought with, men I can trust."
"More former Aurors who haven't been on the job for the better part of a decade, and for good reason?" Rufus asked, now wishing he had never come up with the idea for the task force in the first place.
"Each of them is worth ten of those snot-nosed kids you and Bones saddled me with," Harkwell retorted. "And they can get a hell of a lot more done when they don't have to babysit a bunch of green Aurors barely out of training."
"Are they?" Rufus asked skeptically. "Because I've been looking into them. Intimidation, threats, harassment. From where I'm standing you're doing your level best to turn the public against not just you, but the Ministry and the Wizengamot as well."
"That's what you're upset about?" Harkwell demanded incredulously. "I trained you better than that."
"You don't get it, Harkwell," Rufus said, shaking his head. "The war's over… the things they let you do, let us do, it's never going to happen again."
"Twenty men," Harkwell offered. "Handpicked by me, and I promise you, we'll get results. That's what the Wizengamot wants; that's what the public wants. Just let me do my job."
"Twenty men, huh?" Rufus asked, staring at Harkwell, already knowing what he would do. The man could never let anything go, not so much as a single slight, real or otherwise, even to his own detriment. If he had any discretion, he could have been the head of the DMLE by now instead of being sent into exile.
"Twenty," Harkwell repeated, hoping Rufus would see sense, and wouldn't force his hand.
"And what are you going to do with them?" Rufus asked. "Settle the score with Potter?"
Harkwell's silence told him all he needed to know.
"I'm going to make a decision soon," Rufus said. "And not about the twenty men you're asking for," he added, seeing the look in Harkwell's eyes.
"Then what?" Harkwell demanded.
"On if you're the right man for the job, on if this whole thing was just a giant mistake, so do yourself a favor. Keep your head down, and your nose clean. No more scandals. Don't make this any harder than it has to be," Rufus said firmly.
"You're dismissed," he said when Harkwell opened his mouth to protest.
Harkwell nodded, rising to his feet stiffly. "Minister," he said, storming out the door, before turning around, giving his former protégé an almost pitying look.
There was a reason he encouraged Rufus to stay in the field, and not get stuck behind a desk. Rising any further in the Ministry required a political acumen Rufus never had. He thought he did, which only made things worse.
He didn't even realize he was the Wizengamot's scapegoat, their sacrificial lamb, that politics was more about protecting oneself than changing anything.
Rufus sighed as he sat back down in his chair, oblivious to Harkwell's pitying look as he stormed out.
He had already considered getting rid of Harkwell before the meeting, but felt he owed it to the man to at least hear him out, but after what he said, and more importantly what he didn't say, it solidified his decision.
Harkwell had to go, and it had been a mistake to bring him back in the first place. He would send him a letter at the end of the week. That way he could at least collect another week of pay, but it left him with another big problem — the chief warlock.
He had been the one to sell him on the idea of hiring Aurors that were dismissed at the end of the war. It had felt like a master stroke at the time, giving them a reserve of strong, capable fighters when they needed them most, and all without having to go through the years of training required to become an Auror.
Having the task force report directly to him instead of the DMLE had been his idea as well, cutting through needless bureaucracy, allowing the task force to be nimble, react more quickly, but now his plans lay in shambles, and when he brought it to Ogden, he would have egg on his face.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, thinking about what Harkwell had said. He had a point about the numbers. Seven task force members weren't enough to deal with even a single werewolf of Greyback's caliber.
The plan was good. His only mistake was putting the wrong man in charge.
There was another candidate, one he hadn't selected because of his history with Harkwell, but was still considered a legend amongst the Aurors, Mad-Eye Moody, and best of all, he could be discreet when the situation called for it.
With some luck, and careful planning, the chief warlock may not even find out about this unfortunate incident with Harry.
He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, writing out a letter to Moody outlining the offer, the same one he made to Harkwell, but also included the suggestion about bringing up the numbers to twenty, and unlike with Harkwell, wrote out a code of conduct he expected from the task force. No more intimidation, no more threats, at most of all, no more bad publicity.
***
Harry sat at the table eating lunch with the Weasley family, a palatable feeling of relief amongst them after the warders left after tearing down the old wards set up countless generations ago, and setting up new, modern wards along with new ward stones to protect against apparition, portkeys, even new muggle-repelling charms, making the Burrow one of the safest locations in Britain.
Arthur picked at his food, mentally counting out just how much he owed Harry in his head for Daniela, and the new wards around his home, wards that he could have never paid for on his own, but sorely needed.
He knew Harry wouldn't bring up the cost, or even ask him to pay him back, but it is still tugged at his pride, not being able to provide for his family, and with four children in Hogwarts, soon to be five in September he didn't see a way to even begin paying him back until well after all his children graduated.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked, noticing the troubled expression on his face.
"No, no, everything is fine," Arthur said quickly, forcing a smile onto his face. "Just glad that everyone is okay," he said, also feeling guilty about not being home to deal with the Werewolf task force when they showed up.
"I'm sorry," Harry replied, feeling guilty about the position he put the Weasleys in when he confronted Harkwell. "They were here for me…"
"Well, they got all of us," George interrupted firmly. "And the same thing will happen if they ever come back."
Harry nodded to George gratefully. After dealing with the task force, their relationship seemed to have thawed a little more, but still wasn't quite what it used to be.
Arthur nodded to his son proudly before continuing. "About the cost, Harry—"
"No," Harry interrupted. "You're not paying me back, so don't even start. They wouldn't have even shown up if it weren't for me."
"If anyone should pay for it, it's the Ministry," Ginny said, surprising all of them as she spoke up angrily. "They're the ones who hired those thugs, and all they do is bother people. They haven't even caught a single bad werewolf!"
"It's true!" Ginny continued, noticing the surprised looks on their faces. "Luna told me."
"What else did Luna tell you about it?" Percy asked curiously.
"She said that Rita thinks all the werewolves in Azkaban have nothing to do with Greyback, and the Ministry knows it too. They only put them there so people would think they're doing something."
"She didn't mention any of that in the Quibbler," Harry said, considering Ginny's words.
'It certainly explained a lot,' he thought. How the Ministry could even capture that many werewolves, and the suspicious omissions about what was being done with the dementors in the section of Azkaban they set aside for the werewolves.
"Not yet," Ginny replied.
Harry nodded, making a mental note to talk to Ted about it as soon as he could, but before he could ask Ginny another question, Dermott flew into the kitchen, a letter clutched in its talon.
Harry took the letter, petting his messenger hawk as it ate off his plate.
"It's from Draco," he said, tearing open the letter and skimming through it. "It's an invitation to spend a few days at Malfoy Manor."
"Malfoy Manor?" Molly asked, exchanging worried glances with Arthur. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Harry."
"…Harry, I know he's your friend, but… there are things about his father you don't know about," Arthur said, agreeing with his wife.
"We can trust Draco," Ron piped up. "He wouldn't have asked Harry to visit if he didn't think it was safe," he added, hoping that with Draco further along in his occlumency training Harry might confide in him what had been bothering him.
"I've talked to his father a couple of times," Harry added, agreeing with Ron, but also understood their warnings about Draco's father. "I know he was a Death Eater."
"Then why would you…" Arthur asked, looking confused.
"It's like Ron said, I trust Draco with my life," Harry explained, skimming through the rest of the letter. "Oh, Ron, Draco said he's sorry he couldn't invite you too. He tried, but his father said no."
Arthur and Molly breathed a sigh of relief, both grateful they wouldn't have to have that conversation with Ron.
Arthur cleared his throat. "Harry, I know you're set on visiting Draco, and we won't bother trying to stop you, but please, be careful. Lucius Malfoy's reputation is well earned, and he hasn't done anything over the years to change anyone's mind about him, or what he did during the war."
"I understand," Harry nodded. "And I'll be careful. I promise."
***
Rita sat in Xeno's living room going through her notes. After her article about the werewolf attack on the Ministry, and Xeno's article on the quarantine, they needed to follow up with something more substantial, but she hit a roadblock.
None of her usual contacts had anything on the werewolves, and aside from the dozen or so swept up by the Ministry after Scrimgeour's announcement, there had been nothing.
It was as if every werewolf in Britain had fallen off the face of the earth, and to make matters worse the Ministry was refusing her access to Azkaban to interview any of them, only stating they were in good health, and well cared for, which she had serious doubts about as they still hadn't confirmed the Dementors had been cleared out of whatever section of Azkaban the werewolves were housed in.
Her Hail Mary had been talking to Remus, but he'd been gone so long that he knew even less than she did.
"Problem?" Xeno asked, sitting down beside Rita.
"Xeno," Rita smiled, looking at her partner.
It was still a strange concept to her, to actually have a partner. She'd shared a byline with more than a few reporters over the years, but she had never trusted them and vice versa.
The newspaper industry was a cutthroat business, with reporters doing just about anything to get ahead, to take credit, to get the big stories, and she had been one of the best at it.
Ironically, it had been when the Prophet fired her she realized how parasitic it had all been. Reporters constantly working against each other only led to mistakes, reputation destruction, and outright sabotage that ruined stories in their infancy.
Looking back over the last few months, it was like night and day. The quality of her writing had improved dramatically, and she had one person to thank for it — Xeno.
He was an absolute monster when it came to research, finding obscure laws, and precedents, giving her insights that she hadn't even considered, connecting dots she missed that seemed so obvious after he pointed them out.
He had been the one to see the loophole in the Media Oversight laws, allowing them to remain operational while every other media company in Britain had to kowtow to the Ministry and the Wizengamot's demands.
"I want to write a follow-up to our last few articles," she explained.
"Hmm," Xeno said, thinking about it for a moment. "How about an in debt article on Greyback?" he suggested. "We only really scratched the surface with him, and what he's done in the rest of Europe. He's wanted in five other countries after all."
"There's something there," Rita agreed. "But there's something else I want to focus on. He's changed, not just his appearance, but how he operates. It goes well beyond his new transformation."
"And the portals," Xeno added. "It can't just be coincidence, right? The entity at Hogwarts used them to get here, and now Greyback is using them to travel across the country."
"I thought about that too," Rita replied, "but I still don't understand the how. This is completely different form of magical transportation, and we're expected to believe Greyback of all people figured it out?" She asked skeptically.
"Maybe he didn't," Xeno said thoughtfully. "Maybe there's someone else helping him, or at least pulling the strings."
"Possibly," Rita replied, giving the theory some thought. "But until we can prove it, it's just speculation."
"Well, I'm sure we'll figure it out, partner," Xeno said with a reassuring smile. "Staying for dinner?"
Rita chuckled, listening to the sounds of banging pots in the kitchen and footsteps sprinting back and forth. "Luna has another surprise dinner?"
Xeno nodded. "I'm hoping it's tartan pancakes again."
"Tartan pancakes?" Rita asked, confused.
"It's exactly what it sounds like," Xeno smiled. "Don't rightly know how she got all the lines and colors just right, but that's half the fun."
"What did it taste like?" Rita asked, chuckling.
"…butterscotch and funnel cake," Xeno replied after a moment's thought.
"I can't wait," Rita smiled, setting aside her work to spend time with Xeno and Luna, something that would have felt alien to her a year ago.
***
Remus gave an exasperated sigh as he walked through yet another back alley. It had been the fifth place he's checked since Rita cornered him at the Leaky Cauldron, and he hadn't found a single werewolf, let alone any sign of them. It was as if they had all fallen off the face of the earth.
He still heard Rita's words echoing in the back of his mind. With the quarantine in place, he had no hope of leaving the UK, even by Muggle means.
He had attempted to use the ferry, take it from Britain to France, and it was only by sheer luck he spotted the undercover Aurors guarding the port in their mismatched muggle clothing, and beat a hasty retreat before he found himself in Azkaban along with all the other werewolves they'd already captured.
To make matters worse, the task force was still searching for his kind, and it was only a matter of time before they searched the businesses in Diagon Alley, and the Leaky Cauldron would likely be one of their first stops.
With his supply of galleons nearly exhausted he could feel the walls closing in on him, and his only solution seemed to be in finding the other werewolves, and where they'd escaped to.
***
Hi! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. This is a bit more of a setup chapter for what's happening later in the story, but I wanted to go a little deeper into Rufus's character and his dynamic with Harkwell, and a bit on Remus as he begins his story arc.
Please take the time to review and let me know what you think of the story.
If you would like to support me and my writing, please consider visiting https://taplink.cc/jumpin for all the stories I'm currently working on and early access to chapters 10, 11, 12, and 13 of Legacy of Shadows along with some character portraits for Merlin, Morgan and Nimue, and an audio versions of the chapters.