Chapter 33

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Magical Britain is a small world that is a small piece of a larger Kingdom. If one takes a closer look, there are many interesting things to see. But the first thing that will catch your eye is the difference. Muggle Britain does not stand still in its development, but magical Britain, on the contrary, is stuck in the Middle Ages. And by the rhythm of life it resembles a sleepy bog. It rarely has anything going on. But not recently. Thanks to four magicians who have done the almost impossible - the transfer from one time to another on a permanent basis - the magical world of Britain slowly but surely began to approach the rhythm of life in its non-magical neighbour. Or, perhaps, it would be more correct to say to its mother country, which gave wizards a territory where they can live separately from non-magical people.

 So, since the summer of last year, the Sleepy Swamp had been subjected to a shake-up. And four representatives of the oldest magical clans were to blame. Who knows where the knowledge of mages that everything that happens is planned, not spontaneous, would have led to. It was probably for the best that only a narrow circle of the closest people knew about it, otherwise anything could have happened. But now it's not about that, it's about another information bomb. If the teachers of Hogwarts and the headmaster of this school thought that the Easter holidays (a designation specifically for Muggleborns) would pass quietly and it would be possible to be busy with their own affairs, they were very wrong. Exactly three days later came the sensational issue of the Daily Prophet, which told of the miraculous cure of Frank and Alice Longbottom. In addition to that, the young shark of the pen, who had been treading on the reputation of the "great and bright" Albus Dumbledore for more than half a year with a truly sadistic approach, had once again trampled on it, and at the same time had kicked the St Mungo's wizarding staff. Ah, what an article it was. Bellatrix Black, aka Madame Runge, was rolling her eyes in rapture, and her "favourite" hero, without whom almost no article that came out from under the pen of this lady, was thoroughly thinning his beard, reading the issue of the most famous newspaper in magical Britain. The hype after this article was great. All the reporters from other magical British newspapers gathered at the strong fence that protected the Longbottom family nest and set up a temporary camp, hoping to get an interview. But alas and alack, they were left with their noses to the grindstone, for the persons of interest had made themselves very comfortable in the Black house and were not about to leave it. All the more so because they had some information that might well sully the already not perfectly clean reputation of Grindewald's victor and a Knight of the Order of Merlin of the first degree. And they also had some very serious complaints about him. The recovering couple didn't like the fate their only son had in store for them. So they set about planning a personal black day for Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. While Blackie, Lucius and the older Longbottoms were discussing how to present the Hogwarts Headmaster's sins to the public and where to start, the others had gathered in a separate group and were discussing their latest move against Voldemort. And the move was simple - kill both him and Nagini. The difficulty was that it had to be done before this holiday was over, as Riddle was beginning to suspect something, and secondly, the Gryffindor sword was kept in Dumbledore's office. Neville had insisted on killing the creeping thing with it, as the sword had already proven itself to be the best weapon against Nagini stuffed with a piece of Voldemort's soul once.

* * * * *

 The fire in the fireplace flickered green and Severus Snape, Professor of Potions, stepped onto the self-cleaning mat, a bulky bundle in his hand. Following him came Alastor Moody, with a red and yellow bird nestled under his armpit.

- Ooh, chicken for dinner," Ron grinned.

 The phoenix shrieked in response to his words, and then it clutched at his invisible bonds, twisting around and pecking its captor in the finger.

- Mordred's chicken! - shrieked Frowny-Crouch and threw the phoenix to the redhead. - You can roast it, I'd love to eat some of that scum.

- Why on earth did Merlin bring Fawkes here? - Harry looked at the angry man in surprise.

- It's a creature that serves Dumbledore willingly," he growled, sitting down in his chair and unbuckling his prosthetic leg.

- How did you know that? - Neville asked.

- Yeah. What did you tie it with? Can't he fly away? - Draco added a couple of questions of his own.

- Phoenixes can be read by ligelimency. The bird, the symbol of Light, wasn't so light. If that little bastard had been Voldemort's mate, the magical world would have been over in a heartbeat. I've bound him with chains of air. Fire won't help him. Anyway, do what you want with him, but don't let him leave. He'll snitch to Dumbledore," the man explained and grimaced.

 The reverse potion stopped working and half a minute later Barty Crouch Junior was sitting in the chair.

- Yeah, it's a fun life. A symbol of Light and a beak in Darkness," Draco said, shaking his head.

- Not in Darkness, my friend, but in shit," Neville clapped the blond on the shoulder. - The Darkness itself is not evil. What Dumbledore and his mutts are doing, on the other hand, is called very stinky....

- Okay, okay, I get your point," Draco waved his hands, "you don't have to continue. So, question. What do we do with the bird.

 The bird squawked, but it didn't sound very loud and.... sluggish? The boys looked round. Turns out the symbol of Light wasn't doing so well. Ron was holding the phoenix upside down and rocking it gently, apparently testing its vestibular system for strength. And it was not very strong. Fawkes was half faint and kept rolling his eyes. I wonder if birds can faint. Pruett wasn't interested in that, it was much more fun when the enemy didn't fall out of reality by passing out. As soon as Fawkes began to roll his beady black eyes, the redhead flicked his beak and shook him sharply.

- Don't you feel sorry for the bird? - Harry asked with a smirk.

- A bee's butt is pathetic, and my animagic form is far from that species," Ron hummed and shook the phoenix vigorously again.

- Okay, talking is fine. But we have to do something," Draco said.

- 'Let's kill him and that's it,' Neville shrugged.

- And how? He'll be reborn. It must be something special," Ron said with doubt in his voice.

- It doesn't have to be anything special. Just pour water on it when it spontaneously combusts," Snape reminded everyone.

- And who's going to make it spontaneously combust? - Harry asked.

- Miss Black. She'll drive anyone to spontaneous combustion," Severus chuckled.

- That's true," Harry chuckled. - Kreacher!

 There was a clap and the house elf appeared in front of Potter.

- What does the great wizard wish for the Master's godson? - The house elf screeched, bowing respectfully.

- 'Give Miss Bellatrix this present,' Harry pointed to Fawkes, 'just make sure it doesn't get loose. You need to get the phoenix to start burning, and midway through the process, pour water on it.

- Kreacher will relay everything to Mistress," the houseboy muttered, bowing again.

 With a snap of his fingers, Kreacher disappeared along with the phoenix.

- Professor, where's the sword? - Harry turned to the potions master.

- 'Wouldn't you know it? - Snape arched an eyebrow and unwrapped the bundle he was holding.

 It turned out to be the Distributing Hat.

- Erm... - Ron stared at the Slytherin dean in bewilderment.

- Very eloquent, Mr Pruett," Snape said, giving off a snide chuckle.

 The boys thought for a moment that he was about to add his catchphrase: "Minus ... Gryffindor points."

- Godfather, why did you bring that rag anyway? - Draco asked, shaking his head and shaking off the obsession.

- The sword of Gryffindor, Draco, in the window is not real. It's a fake, the real one is in the Hogwarts Vault. And the Hat is a special portal through which you can take any item that is in it.

- And only Dumbledore, as headmaster, has access to that vault? Right? - Neville questioned.

- Right," Snape nodded. - And, in anticipation of your questions, I'll tell you right away. Harry got the sword out of it because the Headmaster had put a special spell on it that was tuned to the magic of a certain wizard, that is, touching - scanning magic - a certain object. And all the stories about how only a true Gryffindor could get the Gryffindor sword were just another round of noodles for a gullible child.

- I see," Neville nodded. - But there's another question. Can we get the sword without Dumbledore?

- We can," Snape nodded. - The defence on the portal to the vault is ingenious in its simplicity. No one but the current Headmaster of Hogwarts knows that the hat is a portal. When the Headmaster is stripped of his title, for whatever reason, the wizard forgets this secret forever. Consequently, no one even suspects what exactly the hat is.

- And how did you find out? - Draco asked, pushing himself forward in impatience.

- Dumbledore is very fond of mead. But here's the trouble. He loses all sense of direction after drinking it. The old man drinks it very rarely, though, and always alone with himself. I was just lucky enough to walk in on him at such a rare moment. Unfortunately, Dumbledore only had time to tell me this secret, after which he passed out instantly. And you know what's interesting? The old man doesn't remember anything about what he did after the first sip of this drink.

 The boys' eyes instantly lit up with excitement. Severus had unknowingly presented them with the solution to the Dumbledore problem on a silver platter. A solution, as he put it, brilliant in its simplicity.

- Professor, you're a genius! - exclaimed Harry. - We owe you one.

- What are you talking about? - Severus couldn't figure out why the boys were so excited.

- I'll explain later. For now, let's just get our swords and go. There's a good chance someone will come down here.

 A few seconds later the Gryffindor sword was in Potter's hand, and after another five minutes there was no one left in the drawing room. Only the Distributor's Hat was lying orphaned on the coffee table...

* * * * *

 Six figures in black cloaks appeared out of nowhere in front of what appeared to be an abandoned house, standing on a small rise and seemingly out of place in the small, provincial town of Little Hangleton. There was nothing to indicate that the house was inhabited. But the six who appeared knew for certain that this was where the one they needed at the moment lived. Or rather, the ones they needed. One of the figures stepped forward and strode confidently towards the door, the others following. A minute, a few spells from the one ahead of them and there was no one left on the street. Only the door creaked quietly, loosely shut.

 Harry confidently led Severus, Draco, Ron and Neville behind him. Reaching the stairs to the first floor he stopped and signalled to the others not to move. The man listened. There were voices coming from the first floor: children's, squeaky voices and adult, male, subservient voices. Also, when the voices subsided, a very quiet hissing could be heard. The boys were now certain that everyone they needed was upstairs in the same room. Barty stomped rather loudly and began to walk upstairs. The others walked quietly so they wouldn't be heard. Looking round and taking a deep breath, Crouch entered the room with his attendants lurking outside the door.

- Greetings, my Lord," came the voice of the former Eater.

- Why did you come without a summons, Barty," a squeaky voice hissed.

- My Lord, I have good news for you," Crouch uttered a prepared excuse.

- Speak! And you, Tail, get out.

- As you command, My Lord," and it was the uninvited guests who heard Pettigrew's voice.

 A second, a second, and the door swung open. A short, fat man rolled out into the corridor. In the next instant, a beam of stun curses and a rope spell slammed into his side. Before he could realise it, the rat was caught. Just as non-verbally as his friends had stunned and bound Pettigrew, Neville summoned Peter's carcass and leaned it against the wall.

- 'My Lord,' Barty's voice came from behind the door again, 'I...'

- Quiet, my faithful servant. We are being overheard," Crouch was interrupted by Voldemort in the body of a hideous, red-skinned child and hissed in Parseltang. - 'Nagini, my beauty, deal with the rat. He should be just outside the door. I didn't hear him leave.

 Harry exhaled in relief, everything was working out perfectly. The mistrust potion sprayed on Barty's robes had worked on Voldemort. The potion made the person inhaling its vapours want to protect themselves from the person they initially doubted. Apparently, despite everything Pettigrew had done for Voldemort, he still didn't trust him. But with Barty, surprisingly, the situation is just the opposite. Incidentally, Crouch himself had been protected from the potion by drinking the antidote.

 From behind the half-open door, Nagini crawled out into the corridor. The five mages held their breath. A moment and the snake turns towards them. Another second and she lunges at the strangers... ..and slammed into the Gryffindor sword Neville had snatched from his belt. Nagini's head was pierced through, and from behind the door came a painful scream and Barty's satisfied voice:

- I bring good news. Harry Potter is behind that door.

 The five muggles leisurely entered the room and surrounded the chair in which the terrified child lay curled up in pain. Six wands simultaneously swept upwards. Six death rays snapped from their tips almost synchronously. Even in the light of day, the couple passing by the house saw the windows and the doorway of the door, which had not been closed all the way, glow green.

 Taking the ashes that Voldemort's incomplete body, Nagini's dead carcass, and the unconscious Pettigrew had turned into, the mages apparated to the Black house. They were already greeted in the living room by the excited occupants of the house.

- Where have you been? - Sirius rushed over to them, groping his godson for injuries.

- Don't rage, Black," Snape said in a perfectly contented voice. - We went to kill Voldemort.

- И? - Bella jumped up from her chair, slamming the half-dead Fawkes against the corner of the coffee table.

- Voldemort is dead. Definitively and irrevocably dead," Draco proclaimed and shook the pouch containing the Dark Lord's ashes.

- By the way, Godfather, we brought you a present," Harry grinned at Sirius, who was completely stunned by the news, and pointed at Pettigrew, who had already regained consciousness.

 Peter looked up from the wall where Harry had left him, staring at his former friend in a huff. The realisation that he didn't have long to live and the rest of the time would not be painless for him made the wizard huddle in the ropes with even more eagerness.

- Rat-Peter," Lord Black's face spread a smile of a former maniac, "well, here we are, my dear, unfaithful friend....