HP: The Duelist of Hogwarts - 461
Added 2025-12-13 14:08:24 +0000 UTCChapter 461: The Plan Begins
Harry dropped down into the familiar alleyway.
In a few quick strides, he reached the telephone box tucked away inside it.
The last time he had come to the Ministry for his hearing, he had entered from here. He drew his wand and took out the Invisibility Cloak. By now he understood more about it, knew it was different from ordinary cloaks and Disillusionment Charms. As long as no one physically brushed against him, no spell or eye would pick him out.
He planned to use the cloak to slip inside.
He stepped into the telephone box, reached for the buttons and pressed them.
Before the mechanism could engage, there was a sudden flurry of noise outside. One, two… five or six figures in quick succession dashed up to the booth and began banging on the glass, making Harry jump out of his skin.
Peering out, he saw faces he knew all too well.
Shock wiped every other expression from his own.
“What—what is going on?” he stammered. “Hermione, Ron… Blaise… how are you all here?”
Hermione held up her wrist for him to see the watch glittering there, then pushed the door open and squeezed inside.
“You have not forgotten the watch I made over the holidays, have you?” she said briskly.
She snatched the Firebolt from Harry’s hand and tossed it back out into the alley. While he was still reeling, she shoved him into the corner. Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Blaise and Jensen all piled in after her. Eight bodies crammed into the narrow space until Harry’s face was mashed so hard against the glass that he was barely recognisable.
“Hermione, I… I’m going to suffocate…”
On the opposite side of the box, Hermione was just as squashed.
"Just—bear with it," she gasped. "Someone hit the button. Whoever's closest to the phone—just press it!"
"I've—I've got it…"
Ginny managed to wriggle an arm free and jabbed at the keypad. The cold, mechanical female voice spoke from inside the phone, and eight badges clattered out of the coin slot. The booth shuddered once, then began to sink.
When the doors slid open again, Harry and the others staggered out and hurriedly stretched cramped limbs.
“Harry,” Hermione said, glancing around, “it looks like there is no one in the Ministry.”
It was night, so most Ministry officials should have gone home. But there should still have been patrols. The last time Harry had come here with Sirius, it had been the same: eerily empty.
Back then, he had not understood what that meant.
He did now.
Umbridge had sent every Auror who was not hers on distant assignments or simply told them to go home. The only ones left on the rota were those openly aligned with her faction.
Then, at night, she ordered even those loyalists out.
The result was a Ministry of Magic with its guard conveniently down.
Before, Umbridge had done this to make it easy to murder Fudge and frame Harry and Sirius for the crime. Now, she was doing it again, this time to give Voldemort and the Death Eaters a clear path to the Department of Mysteries, so they could stroll in and steal the prophecy orb.
"It means the Death Eaters and You-Know— the Mystery Man will be here any minute," Hermione said. "We need to move now and get to the Department of Mysteries before they do. We have to take the prophecy first."
“What is a prophecy orb?” Ron asked, as perfectly mistimed as ever.
“I will explain on the way. We do not have time now.”
Hermione shot him a withering look, growing more exasperated with her useless boyfriend by the day. Then she grabbed Harry’s sleeve and broke into a run, leading the group towards the Department of Mysteries.
…
At the same time, Sean was sitting in the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts, turning his two‑way mirror over in his hands.
Before long, Dumbledore’s face appeared in the glass.
“Sean,” he said, “Harry and the others have entered the Ministry. They are heading for the Department of Mysteries, as planned.”
“Speaking of the Department of Mysteries,” Sean said, “how much do you actually know about the most mysterious branch of the Ministry?”
He had expected Dumbledore to have at least a little to say.
To his surprise, the old wizard only shook his head.
“I am afraid I know very little,” Dumbledore replied. “Of course, I refer not to the things on display there that are already half‑public knowledge—Time‑Turners, prophecy orbs and the like. I mean the true secrets guarded within the Department. Those, I do not know.”
Not even Dumbledore?
He claimed ignorance, yet in the same breath he had confirmed there were things in the Department so secret that even he could not uncover them.
Interesting.
“How is the business with the Vanishing Cabinet?” Dumbledore asked.
“I interfered a little,” Sean said. “I made sure they would not discover it too soon.”
“You have changed your mind?”
“I simply think it can be put to better use,” Sean replied. “If it is only going to bring in a few Death Eaters, that would be a waste of its potential.”
“So you have a new plan.”
“I do,” Sean said. “And I will need your cooperation for part of it.”
“If it is your plan, I am very willing to cooperate,” Dumbledore said.
They left it there.
Sean glanced down at the enchanted map spread across the desk. A cluster of glowing points was heading towards a small, box‑outlined section marked “Department of Mysteries”. Within that box, his map showed nothing but a hazy outline. As soon as the lights crossed its border, they vanished from view.
Shortly after the lights representing Harry and his friends disappeared into the Department, another set of points entered the Ministry and began moving rapidly in the same direction.
Watching how straight and sure their path was, Sean rose from his chair and stretched lazily.
“Professor,” he said to the mirror, “the time is about right. We can move.”
“Very well,” Dumbledore replied. “I will alert Marchbanks and the others. The Ministry will soon see the return of Tom.”
“Then I will go on ahead.”
Sean walked to the fireplace, took a pinch of Floo powder, and threw it into the grate.
The flames roared up, turning emerald green.
“Ministry of Magic!” he called, and stepped into the fire.
As Sean vanished into the whirl of green, Ginny, in another part of the building, snapped her wand up and unleashed a streak of yellow‑white fire that blasted an oncoming Death Eater off his feet.
"Confringo!"
She had an uncanny knack for explosive magic. She had learned the Blasting Curse at astonishing speed, and her mastery of it had grown just as fast. Even a seasoned Death Eater hit full on by one of Ginny’s curses would feel it.
“We have got it!” Harry shouted. “Now move! Get out of here, before the Mystery Man arrives!”
He bellowed as he fought, wand sweeping out. A blue‑white wave of light burst from its tip, knocking aside a slashing curse. He spun on his heel and snapped his wrist, sending a jet of red light slamming into another masked figure and hurling him backwards.
After so much training, Harry had finally come into his own.