HP: A Magical Journey

Chapter 353 The Paper Slip

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“We need to find a new place to meet,” Sirius sighed as he closed the door to the lounge behind him. “You guys can’t convene here every time the Death Eaters do,” he said to the Order of Phoenix members sitting on his well-curated furniture. “What would you all have done if I had a lady at home with me?”

“We would’ve asked her to leave,” said Hestia Jones, “well, you would have.”

“Uh-huh, if you think that, it would’ve been awkward for you when I would’ve shut the door in your face,” Sirius took a seat, dressed in his nightclothes with a glass filled with a golden liquid. “I’m not cracking a joke. If I have a lady with me, I’m going to turn you all away,” but then he winked at Hestia, “but if you want to keep me company, you’re always welcome at 12 Grimmauld Place, Hestia.”

Hestia snorted, not gracing Sirius with a response.

“Enough mindless chatter,” Moody’s gruff voice with a knock of his walking stick. He turned to his left and said, “Get on with it, Albus. We don’t have all the time of the day.”

All eyes turned to Dumbledore, who was sitting at the ‘head’ of the group. The man was dressed, as always, in his eccentrically bright-colored clothes. In the group of regular clothers, he stuck out like a peacock in a sea of peahens.

“I’m sure all of you are aware of why we have gathered here,” said Dumbledore, his voice disjointed from the reason behind the meeting. “Today, the Death Eaters targeted the Hogwarts Express and the students. . . as we expected they would.” There was a wave of nods and murmur among the group, “Fortunately, both us and the Aurors Office expected them to do so and planned safeguards against them.”

The Hogwarts Express always had a professor or two onboard during the trips, but today, the train harbored five professors, all expecting Death Eaters to attack.

“I disliked the idea to run the Hogwarts Express this year, but neither the Ministry nor the Board of Governors wanted the centuries-long practice to break,” sighed Dumbledore. “I hope they’d be more receptive to my suggestions after today. However, the reason I called all of you is not because of the attack itself, but the unforeseen thing that happened during the attack. . . Bartemius Crouch Junior unexpectedly disappeared after being hit by a spell.”

“Who cares what happened to father-killer?” spat Elphias Doge(coin).

“I care, Elphias. I care,” said Dumbledore. He gave a look to Elphias, which had a smile, but his eyes were nothing but somber. “Bartemius’ disappearance is an anomaly in a situation that is easy to understand. I’m trying to understand how did he disappear, where did he go to, and who or what made him disappear.”

He swept his eyes to his group as if expecting them to offer something, but none spoke.

“Then let us start with the Aurors Office,” Dumbledore turned to James and Kingsley. “Was the Aurors Office behind the disappearance?”

“No,” said James, exchanging a glance with Kingsley, “as far as the DMLE is considered, we haven’t participated in the disappearance.”

Kingsley chimed in, “I have confirmed with the Hit Wizards. They, too, weren’t involved. I can say that this wasn’t orchestrated by the Ministry—”

Moody cut Kingsley off, “Don’t come to that conclusion yet, Shacklebolt. You might have done so, but that doesn’t mean the Departement of Mysteries wasn’t involved. Those sneaky bastards behind their locked doors might have taken Crouch’s kid to. . . study the Dark Mark for one.”

Everyone’s eyes widened, and some sort of realization dawned on them.

The Departement of Mysteries, a section of the Ministry of Magic that carried out confidential research. Most of its operations were carried out in total secrecy. Few wizards within the Ministry actually knew what was located within this department. Various mysteries of the world were studied there. Wizards who worked in the Department of Mysteries were known as Unspeakables because of the confidential nature of their work. Due to the highly classified nature of this department, it was granted a great deal of independence, being the only one within the entire Ministry that did not need to answer to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Even the Minister for Magic had very little authority over the department’s operations, as the fifteenth Minister’s attempt to shut down the branch was ignored by the Unspeakables.

“Did they take Death Eaters during the war?” came as a question from Nymphadora Tonks.

Moody grunted, his artificial eye rolling in its socket. “Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. Some of the Death Eaters had gone missing during Barty Crouch. . . Senior’s hunt— most assumed that they ran away, but who knows. . . they might just have been abducted by the Unspeakables for experimentation. Last time, little Barty had his daddy, so they couldn’t pick him up, but this time he was alone and ripe for picking. . . . What do you say, Albus?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “There’s no use in discussing what they did during the war. We have no way to prove it. . . . By saying that, I’m not subtracting the possibility of the Department of Mysteries being involved today. If they did. . . we might not see Bartemius for a very long time, if anytime. I do not think the Unspeakables were involved; it’s not like them to act so publicly— secrecy is their bread-and-butter.”

But the question of who took Barty Crouch away still remained. It remained in everyone’s mind.

“How did he get taken away?” asked Tonks.

“Apparition, I reckon,” said Lily. “The train is loud enough to hide the sound.”

No one raised any opposition to that conjecture.

“No one saw anything,” James turned to Lily. “Did the students say something unusual on the train? Because whoever took Barty away was either on the train or following it.”

Lily shook her head, “None of them reported anything unusual. It can be assumed the perpetrator wasn’t on the train.”

Tonks, who listened to everything, kicked her feet forward and stretched back. “Death Eaters, an unknown suspect, and an open mystery— I say it is the Invisible Vigilante.”

“Possible, but just a speculation,” said James, and the group parked the choice and moved on.

“Someone who had his loved ones killed by Crouch?”

“Too broad, but it’s an angle we are working on,” said Sirius, his glass clinking with ice. “The case is assigned to the newest batch of rookies; they’ll be looking into the missing Crouch.”

“Robards didn’t assign it a higher priority?” asked Dumbledore, peering from the top of his glasses.

Sirius shook his head. “He doesn’t want to waste precious resources looking for a missing Death Eater. It is busywork for our rookies to learn things. And no, he won’t change the status even I ask him to— I also don’t want the priority status to change.”

Dumbledore shook his head.

“What if it was the Death Eaters themselves!” Tonks said as if she had a revelation. She yelped the next moment as Moody hit her with a stinging spell.

“Think before you speak, lass!” he rebuked.

“I was thinking!”

“Think better then.”

The conversation derailed then. The group began bouncing off ideas and theories about Barty’s disappearance. Conspiracies were born. Imaginary plots were weaved. But in the end, the group wasn’t able to come to a conclusion about Barty’s disappearance.

. . .

“Albus.”

Dumbledore turned back and saw Moody standing behind him. Everyone was talking in the lounge while he had stepped away to have some quiet thinking time while admiring the old Black-heritage paintings that Sirius had still kept.

“How are you feeling, Albus?”

“Where did that come from suddenly?” Dumbledore asked with a confused smile. “What would be wrong with me?”

“I’m talking about Grindelwald,” said Moody bluntly. The man was never one to mince his words.

“. . . So?”

“Avoid it or not, Albus, but that man— Dark Lord or not— was a big part of your life. You’re clearly not feeling well.”

“And why do you say that?”

“You ended up joining the ICW investigation without a single word of objection. They approached, and you gave them what they wanted, knowing well that the investigation is more of a publicity stint rather than an actual attempt to find the truth. They don’t want to find out how a Dark Lord who has been locked away for half a century died.”

“Thank you, Alastor, but I’m fine. As for the ICW investigation. Even if it’s only half an investigation, I want to be a part of it. Grindelwald’s death was sudden and without a hint of prior warning from any sources of any Ministerial agency across the globe. So if there’s someone searching for an answer, I would like to be kept in the loop.”

Moody wanted to say something, but he was stopped by Dumbledore.

“End of discussion, Alastor.”

But as Dumbledore was about to step away, Moody put his walking cane in Dumbledore’s way. Dumbledore looked at the cane and then at Moody, “I have some work to do, Alaster. Now is not the time.”

“I hope you know that we need to focus on the current Dark Lord. Chasing an old one isn’t on the top of the list right now.”

“I know that better than anyone.”

Moody pulled his cane back, “I hope you do,” he grunted before stalking away.

Dumbledore watched Moody for a bit before he shook his head. He turned away and eyed Sirius, who was bothering Hestia Jones. Dumbledore called out to him.

“How may I help you, Dumbledore,” asked Sirius.

“I have something I’d like to show you,” Dumbledore took out a half-slip of parchment and handed it to Sirius.

“What is this?” Sirius asked just before his eyes began reading the words.

[

To the Dark Lord,

I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B.

]

“This R.A.B. is he. . .”

“Regulus Arcturus Black,” Sirius uttered. “My brother. . . he often signed his name like that.”

Dumbledore’s eyes flashed. He was right. It was Regulus Black who had written the letter.

“Where did you find this?” asked Sirius.

“Regulus had replaced something Voldemort had valued,” Dumbledore couldn’t bring himself to change the letter, but he wasn’t going to be the one who gave out essential information. “He deceived Voldemort and replaced it with a fake. I think that something must be here, where he lived. . . . I was wondering if you had his belongings.”

It was a reach that Sirius would keep his brother’s belongings after such a long time period, but he had to try, just in case he did.

“I-I have some of his stuff. It is all in his r-room,” said Sirius, his eyes glued to the paper.

Dumbledore didn’t say anything. He let Sirius process things. Finding that the Death Eater brother, who was the image of everything Sirius stood for, had betrayed Voldemort.

“I know this is hard, Sirius. But do know that your brother was a brave who saw the truth of the situation and did his best to remedy the situation. Be proud of him,” said Dumbledore.

He could wait for a few days longer to search Regulus’ belongings. Maybe then he would be able to get his hands on another one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes.

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Sirius Black – Proud Owner of a Bachelor Pad – Feels like his life foundation has been shaken.

Albus Dumbledore – Order of the Phoenix – Making his way, piece-by-piece.

Alastor Moody – Madeye – Perceptive as hell.

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