The Christmas season was getting closer and closer. Salazar and Godric had taken a general look at the information that Rowena and Theo had collected weeks ago. They had put it inside a folder and were thinking of showing it to Helga. As for the Veritaserum, it had been Dobby who had been in charge of making the switch. Now, the genuine potion was in Salazar's trunk. He had not discarded it, for it was never known when it might be necessary. Godric had wanted to act quickly against Umbridge. Salazar also partly wanted it, but he had remembered Helga's words and their meaning. Umbridge was dangerous. Though he acknowledged that he took a certain satisfaction in seeing her paranoid for weeks because someone had entered her office. Since none of her alarms had been activated, she couldn't blame anyone and even knew that comments from some teachers had made her doubt it was a student. So she blamed Dumbledore and accused him of invading her privacy. It wasn't that Salazar was fond of Dumbledore, but at that time the Headmaster was a lesser evil.
"Are you going home for Christmas?" Godric asked him one afternoon in the library.
"Yes. I already have the authorisation signed. I thought it was better to do it officially than simply signing on the list that McGonagall passes around."
"You did well," Draco said, joining them and sitting across from Godric with his trademark composure and grace. "Any student who doesn't belong to the green and silver house is having trouble with that. Umbridge will not let anyone go without official authorisation. So Theo will stay in the castle. I'll stay with him. I don't want him to be alone at Christmas."
"I'll tell Sirius. It's a shame you won't join us for Christmas."
"There will be other times."
"And Luna?" Godric asked curiously.
"Theo has encouraged her not to be miserable at Christmas with the toads."
"It will be better to warn the others," Salazar commented. "No one had ever curtailed freedoms in this way before, and there will be many who won't get to it in time."
"The Slytherins always did it that way," Draco said.
Salazar nodded. He perfectly understood that level of formality in students who would end up being politicians or businessmen. Yes, it was true that they did not follow the rules when it didn't suit them, but they always followed certain protocols. Salazar had not expected that Umbridge would want to retain the student population in the castle, but seeing her ambition to turn the school into a dictatorial regime, he reproached himself for not having imagined the possibility. He felt like he hadn't been as attentive as he should have been. This, together with the evidence of her intercepting communications, complicated things. He'd been able to get by with Dobby and Kreacher, but he didn't think everyone would be so lucky. With the attitude Umbridge had shown, Christmas was expected to be quite bleak that year.
"So Umbridge has become the Grinch."
"What?" Draco asked.
"A Muggle reference," Godric replied unintentionally.
"I'd prefer you to use similes that I could understand."
"I'll keep that in mind, Draco."
Every time a freedom of the students was curtailed, Salazar became more and more annoyed, although he did his best not to make it obvious. He knew Godric felt similarly. Authorisation signed by parents or guardians was a formality after all. The biggest problem was that it was too late to get the word out, and although it was not a school rule per se, Umbridge could use it against the ignorant and those who had no magical relatives. In fact, he had evidence that she had tried to do it with him, but she had had to keep quiet when she saw the signed authorisation. He turned the page of the book he was consulting with the thought that he would have to be especially careful over the coming weeks not to give her a pretext that could punish him, even though students could not be punished outside the school term. At least not with lasting punishments.
"I'll tell Hermione. I know she wanted to go skiing with her parents this year and... well, maybe I'll convince my grandmother to let me go with them," said Godric.
"I'll tell her to take a picture of you, or rather a video."
"Don't even think about it," his friend whispered, getting up and putting away his things and leaving the library.
"What is skiing?" Draco asked.
"You put on special snow shoes, similar to Quidditch boots but different. You tie your feet to elongated poles and slide through the snow."
"If you can get Granger to shoot the Longbottom video, would you show it to me?"
"Maybe, Draco, maybe."
"I think that's a good deal, Salazar."
Silence was established between the two. They both focused on what was before them. One on Transfiguration and the other on enchantments. After all, they were in the library, and this was not a place where it was very convenient to converse, not only because any whisper too loud might reach unwelcome ears, but because to Madam Pince, the librarian, the library was a temple. Speaking desecrated it. Eating desecrated it. Sleeping desecrated it. Scratching, even if it was your own books, desecrated it.
"I'm telling you. That Filch is useless, he doesn't know how to tell a potion from a glass of water," said a student who passed by them.
"What did you expect? He's a Squib. Too bad they only petrified his cat a couple of years ago," said the other student.
"But what are you doing here loitering and disturbing the good atmosphere of the library!" Madam Pince came out from behind some shelves, her piercing vulture-like gaze fixed on the two who were speaking ill of the janitor. "Get out, get out of here! No one who disturbs the peace of the library deserves to enter it!" She added, shouting and enchanting the students' belongings so that they would hit them until they reached the exit. She went after them to make sure they had a bad time.
"And don't the shouts disturb the peace of the library?" Draco whispered. Both had looked up to witness the spectacle.
"Apparently speaking ill of Filch is also a desecration of this temple of knowledge," Salazar mocked, making sure that no one, especially the librarian, was listening to them.
"From the way she's looked at him, it looks like there's something between the two of them," Draco murmured.
"Maybe. Stranger things have been seen."
"What strange things have you seen, Potter?" Draco whispered with amusement.
"I would not disturb your young and innocent mind."
Both held their gazes before feigning laughter. Fortunately, they remembered where they were and were able to contain themselves in time. They didn't think Madam Pince would be very understanding after what had just happened, and of course being kicked out of the library meant not being able to return for at least a week. To tell the truth, it wasn't something that mattered much, because he didn't need the library to do his homework except for specific things that he asked his friends to look for before he came. But he had to pretend that his upturn in studies was precisely due to studying more. So, the library was his screen. A few minutes passed until they were able to maintain completely natural expressions again; by then, Ron and Ginny joined them. Salazar did not miss Ron's gesture of disgust. He still didn't like Draco, but his only argument was that he was a Malfoy and a Slytherin student; otherwise, there did not seem to be any great grudges between them.
"Is this one bothering you, Salazar?"
"No."
"And what are you doing here?"
"It's a library, Weasley. Generally here you study, do your homework, and exchange impressions with classmates," Draco replied with a haughty gesture. "By the way, Ginny. I was going to come find you when I'd finished my homework, but since you're here I'll take the opportunity to ask. Would you go with me to Hogsmeade for the pre-Christmas break excursion?"
"Hey, don't go near my sister!" Ron glared at him and raised his voice a little, drawing attention to them.
"Exactly, Ron. I'm your sister, not your daughter. I can decide perfectly for myself. If I want to go with Draco, I'll go with Draco," she replied to her brother. "What time do we meet?"
Ron sighed. The extra Defence sessions were going well in his opinion. At least, he could tell that he had improved a lot. The only thing that made him slouch was the presence of the three Slytherin musketeers at the sessions. But Salazar tolerated them just like the rest. Was he the only one who realised that Slytherins were not to be trusted? Worst of all, the worst of them was hanging around his sister. He didn't like that. If it weren't for that, those extra sessions would be heaven. Up to this point, they had practised Disarming Charms and Shield Charms. The Stunning Charms and a few other minor curses that could get you out of a jam at some point. Now they were on the Patronus Charm. Many knew that Salazar had conjured one in Diagon Alley in the summer and also in a Quidditch match in his third year, and they were able to make the association. They simply wanted to learn it. He wanted it too, so he had joined the voices that had asked to learn this incantation.
Salazar had explained in detail the Patronus Charm and its complexity. He had to admit that at first he had found those words a bit much, but he had learned it in record time in third year, and so had Godric, who had not been a great wizard, at least not until that moment. In fact, Ron always thought he was too close to being a Squib, but that had apparently been wrong. The enchantment was difficult for him to produce, he could not achieve the corporeal Patronus that Salazar and Godric had, and now apparently also Rowena. She had done it so easily that he had come to think she would make it soon. Only at the end of the session had he and a few others managed to pull out a silver wisp.
"Well done, Ron. That's a good start," Salazar told him. He didn't see that in itself as a good start. No. He didn't find that achieving smoke alone was good.
With that bitter taste, he went to sleep that night, and the next day was not the best. Early in the morning, Professor McGonagall came in to wake him up in the bedroom and drag him out of it. In the corridor he met his brothers. The teacher said nothing, she just hurried them to Dumbledore's office. The feeling that something serious had happened formed in his stomach. When they arrived at the office, the Headmaster was very serious and you could tell he was worried. The portraits also seemed altered and with a lot of movement.
"What are we doing here?" Ginny asked.
"Something very serious. Your mother is informed. You will go home now," said the Headmaster.
"Something has happened to our father, right?" Fred asked.
Ron stared at Dumbledore's serious gaze and knew that what Fred had asked was not entirely misguided. Something had happened to his father. Ron was nervous, hoping that he was okay and that it was just a small scare. A small illness or something. Nothing to do with the one who should not be named. A noise coming from the other side of the stairs brought him out of his thoughts. It was an argument between Professor McGonagall and the disgusting pink toad. The toad did not want to let them go, saying that they did not have permission for that and that she should check whether or not it was really an emergency. It didn't seem that they had much time or that she didn't think so. She noticed that her brothers were calling him. Dumbledore had prepared a Portkey for them. He touched it. It didn't take a few seconds for it to activate and take them to the Burrow. There they found his mother crying and there was no way to make her react. Bill and the French girl, Fleur, were with her. Ron looked at the clock in the fireplace. It pointed to his father as dead. That image left him completely shocked.
The days passed. The Burrow, once a happy place, was now very gloomy. His father had died, and they had not yet been able to watch over him or bury him. The Ministry had not returned the body to them under the pretext of investigating what had happened. In reality they were trying to prevent them from being able to say goodbye to him properly and, according to some contacts in the Ministry, they were investigating him to get rid of all the dirty laundry he had and make him pay dearly for "being disloyal to the Ministry." As many knew, his family was very loyal to Dumbledore, and they wanted to make him pay for it. That is why he had helped Bill to get rid of what was in the shed, although it hurt him a lot to throw away his father's things. All before the Aurors showed up to investigate the house and the press published his father's death as an accident that should not have happened as it had occurred outside his workplace. They were calling him a spy in the Ministry and saying that they would impose a fine to repair the damage caused. That was all bloody nonsense. Ron had heard Bill talking to the twins. They were talking about what the Ministry would do and, apparently, the Ministry wanted to take away their house since they were poor and couldn't afford to pay the fine. It wasn't the usual procedure, of course. But no one would raise their voice for them. Not even the Order had been able to do anything, because as Dumbledore said as soon as he could go over, "it's hard to make an excuse to be down there."
"I'll make them pay. All of them," he murmured in his room, clenching his fists and letting his rage get the better of him. It wasn't fair that his father had died and there were so many disgusting Death Eaters safe and secure. He cursed the Death Eaters, Fudge, the Ministry, and Percy, who hadn't even deigned to show up there.
He hardly ate. He didn't want to be distracted by games, or even chess. He simply wanted to train and become the best. He couldn't do magic at home. At that moment he hated being underage. But there was something he could do. He could really apply himself to his studies, much more than he had done to win permission to enter chess competitions. He was determined to be the best and to be the one who avenged his father.
It wasn't until Christmas Eve that their father's body was returned to them. But there was no Christmas to celebrate. The joy was completely gone. Instead of the warm clothes he used to wear at that time of year, he was donning sad black clothes and preparing for burial. At least there he would see some of his friends. Salazar had told her that he would attend, had expressed his condolences by letter before assuring her that he would come. Ron recognised that he needed his friends right now, but at the same time he felt completely alone in all of that. It was their loss, not theirs.
Helga went to Grimmauld Place. A few days ago, right at the beginning of the Christmas holidays, she had told Salazar and Sirius about the tragedy that had happened in the Weasley family; just before a distorted version of it came out in the newspapers. She had not been on the team that had been in charge of the search of the Burrow, but he had been part of the initial investigation team of the Ministry, and what they had found was horrific. There was no clue that he was related to Dumbledore, as the Minister was so desperate to find, but the fact was that the state of the body was horrendous. He had been found in the Department of Mysteries, in the Hall of Prophecies, and his body had traces of black magic. Only his hair and face had been recognisable; the rest was as if he had been opened from the inside out. These were details that she had only shared with Salazar. In a way, it was better that the family had not seen the state of the body, at least the children. The bad thing in the whole affair was the cruelty on the part of the Ministry. The orders were to find a relationship between Dumbledore and the late Mr. Weasley; there was no directive to find who had done that to him. Which, regardless of the Minister's paranoia, was a mistake.
"It's time."
"How do you know to go to the funeral?" her cousin asked her.
"I went to school with Charlie Weasley. He was a good friend," she replied simply. "Will you let me guide you in the Apparition, Salazar?"
"Of course."
Salazar grabbed Helga's arm. Not being of legal age to Apparate, it made no sense to do it alone. It would be blatantly breaking the law in front of the few Ministry officials who were present at the funeral. She knew it, and Salazar knew it. Both knew that it was not convenient to attract attention. So, together they showed up at Ottery St. Catchpole. It would be in the cemetery of that town that Mr. Weasley was buried. As soon as he appeared, the tone of his hair changed. From the usual bright pink to a dark brown that made her look more serious. Like Salazar and the vast majority of those present, she was dressed in black. As soon as they arrived, and before the ceremony began, they presented their condolences to the family. The Lovegoods and the Diggorys were also there. Rowena was next to Ginny and Ron. At a glance he could see how discarded the Weasley family was. They were the first victims of the impending war that was already knocking on the door.
"Go with him. He'll need a friend," Salazar said, looking in the direction of a lonely Charlie, who had apparently come from Romania for the funeral.
"You go with Ron."
She saw him nod and approach both the two youngest of the Weasley family and the twins. Discouragement and tension could be cut with a knife. As far as she could see, a family member was apparently missing. Percy Weasley, the personal assistant to the Minister for Magic. She could see him, hidden in the shadows of the trees in a nearby grove without daring to approach. Everyone in the Ministry knew what had happened between that Weasley and his family. Everyone knew it. So she could understand why he wasn't coming closer. Percy had broken up with his family and exchanged painful words with his father which he could not recover now. At the same time, he probably thought that his family would throw themselves around his neck if they saw him appear. It was a difficult situation. Her gaze met his, she was sure, though she couldn't really see her. She wasn't going to say anything about it. Getting involved in the affairs of that family at that time could be dangerous; so much pain was felt between them that it was impossible to foresee how they could react. She decided to act as if she had not seen it.
"Charlie, how are you?"
"Honestly, badly. My father is the one who supported me the most when I said that I wanted to go study dragons; he was the one I was closest to and who has always supported me in everything, including... well, you know."
"Yes. It's a shame that something like this happened. An unfortunate loss. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask me."
"Thank you, Tonks."
Shortly after the ceremony began. It didn't look like many more were coming. There were the vast majority of the Weasley family, a few friends of the family. Families who lived nearby and knew them. Almost the entire Order of the Phoenix didn't really know what they were doing there and Dumbledore. Helga exchanged a couple more words with Charlie before he moved to his family. Dumbledore took the opportunity to stand next to her, which Helga found quite annoying. She didn't really want to talk to the Headmaster at the time, and if she was honest, to any of them, actually. It did not seem to her that he was a transparent person as he wanted to make it known. A capable wizard, yes. But with a hidden agenda behind it.
"It's a shame that something like this happened. A tragedy."
"Indeed, Headmaster."
"It's a loss for this family. An unfortunate loss. Also for society and for the cause. If only it had more capable people, perhaps this would have been avoided."
"Are you really going to try to recruit me again for your paramilitary group, Headmaster?" He whispered in a distinctly annoyed tone with a tinge of contained danger. "We are at a funeral. Do you think it is the right place for a conversation of this style?"
Apart from the fact that it was not the time or the place, she had told him actively and passively that she did not want to belong to that group. She knew she wanted to have Aurors on her team, and his words sounded like regret for not having been able to capture neither Kingsley nor her. She and her partner agreed that they should organise themselves and that Voldemort should return, but they did not like Dumbledore's ways. She had never liked them, and the final straw had been the year Sirius escaped from prison. Kingsley's eyes had opened that same year.
"I hope you don't try to recruit children like in the previous war," she said in a warning tone. "I have nothing against some experienced adults getting together to face the situation in their own way, somewhat at the limit of the law. But it is against that it captures children who have just finished school, no matter how adult they are. No one who doesn't really know what they're getting into should be used as cannon fodder."
"Who did you take me for, Miss Tonks?"
"By someone who is insistent to the point of exhaustion. He has already approached me three times and in all of them he has tried to make me feel guilty for not fighting under his direction. I repeat. I'm not against your group. I don't like them trying to manipulate me, Dumbledore."
After those words she walked away from him. He had not lacked the desire to take out his wand and sing a few truths to him. He knew from his conversations with Sirius as well as from the events of previous years how he intended to use Salazar. She didn't look favourably on that. It could have been a good strategy, but it seemed as if it wanted to direct people's free will. And that last approach had been completely inappropriate. He wanted more and more to take control of the school and take Dumbledore away from it so that he would not influence the students' decisions so much. For it was clear that many of the members of his former Order had already been recruited from the last grades of the school. Voldemort did the same, only he already had a base of several families who educated their offspring to accept the Mark as if it were a god to reverence. It was a good thing that both young Nott and young Draco had gone out of the fold. They could serve as an example to others. She took a deep breath away from the place and into the little forest, alert at all times watching her back, as if he were in the middle of a mission.
"You're still here, Percy."
"It's as close as I dare to get. It looks like Dumbledore has bothered you."
"Do you want us to talk about Dumbledore?" She turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Seeing him up close, she knew that there was something that was eating away at him. She knew him quite well. She was in fourth grade when Percy entered first grade and his brothers introduced him to him. She knew he was someone to keep to himself what felt like a time bomb. "Why don't you talk to me better about how you feel? You need to express it with someone."
"I don't know how I feel. I know I'm angry, that I can't talk to my family anymore. They won't want me among them after this. I don't like the way things ended with my father, but I can't go back. When I told him that he was putting himself in danger by working with Dumbledore, he didn't expect something like this to happen. I blame Dumbledore for what happened to my father. My father was in the Department of Mysteries by his mandate, and he ended up dead in a horrible way because, yes, I have seen the report. Jeremy let me read it. I know that what happened to my father is the work of a Dark wizard, even if the official decision of the Ministry is a reckless accident in subversive work against the Ministry. And... I want revenge. To find the person who has done that to him and make him pay, something that I know the Ministry is not going to allow at this time or ever."
Helga approached the young man, putting her arm around his shoulders as a consolation. She understood his feelings. She had had them centuries ago when she lost someone very important to her. She knew that what young Weasley needed now was the comfort and support he could not ask of his family. He knew that the young Assistant Minister had opened his eyes and seen the corruption of the Ministry, as well as many other things.
"Revenge can be satisfying, but not always a good thing. It brings more pain than you can imagine, than you have now. But I think this deserves justice," she spoke softly. "I'll have to have a serious conversation with my apprentice. Jeremy should know that there are things that should not be leaked as well as that from time to time he will be put to the test by working on simulated events." She looked at him meaningfully, hoping he would get the meaning of her words. It seemed so, for the young man nodded.
"I'd like to know what my father was doing in the Department of Mysteries."
"I don't know, Percy, though I can speculate about it."
"Thank you, Tonks. You'd better come back before you get missed. I... I wish I could go back."
"You can always do it. As a good friend of mine would say, you just have to find your way."
They were sitting in the library at Grimmauld Place. Two days had passed since Mr. Weasley's burial. The four of them were gathered with some food and Kreacher as a guardian on the other side of the door so that no one could disturb them. If Sirius found that odd he said nothing; After all, it had been the work of the four that had released him cleanly.
"I would have liked to go to the funeral, but I had to content myself with writing to Ron," Godric said. "My grandmother didn't want us to go. She is not happy with Dumbledore who recruited my parents even before they started at the Auror Academy and according to her she does not protect her allies as she should. He did not want the Longbottom family to be associated with Dumbledore again."
"Understandable. He tried to recruit me."
"That's why you went into the woods," Rowena said. "You were worried about exploding in front of everyone."
"Something like that."
"We have to move," Salazar said, looking very seriously at the other three. She pointed to the copy of the report that Helga had brought. "Ron's father was killed in the Department of Mysteries by very dark magic. We know what is kept there and it seems that it is going to be more and more dangerous to maintain it. It's time to get it out."
"Are you thinking of making the change?" Godric asked.
"No. Think of a robbery. To make both the Order and the Death Eaters think that the other one has the prophecy," Helga said. "A dangerous move after what has happened."
"Dangerous but necessary."
"I wouldn't be so sure, Salazar. A change could be safer."
"There will be no more deaths, and no risk of it until the black king makes his move to the place," said Rowena.
"Nothing may have been missing from the apartment when it was searched after that murder, but if suddenly something related to you disappears—" Godric said. "My friend. I think I'm the impulsive one here."
"That's fine. Let it be an exchange. I just don't want anyone else to die, no matter how inevitable death may be."
"Salazar. It has affected you because before Sirius the father figure you took as an example even though you didn't know it was Mr. Weasley," Godric observed.
"Godric. Leave it," Helga ordered.
Salazar remained completely silent. Of course, the death of Ron's father had affected him. Mr. Weasley was one of the best people he had ever known, and he had gone to great lengths to raise his family. He was not someone who deserved to die or someone who should have been involved in the impending war to begin with. He was sure that if he had gotten involved it was precisely because he was a main target and wanted to do his bit to take care of him, protect him and help him. In addition, Voldemort had almost caused the death of his daughter, or at least one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Mr. Weasley deserved justice, and if he did what he had thought of at one time he would not give it to him; but not wanting there to be any more unnecessary casualties was also on his mind.
"The best time for the project to get the project going is at sunset this year," Rowena said.
Salazar gave him a silent look, taking into account the words he had just uttered as well as the previous ones. Anyone from the outside would think that they were eccentricities or random words; but everyone present knew that they were not.
"It will be at the end of the year. We will have to enter without being seen. There should be no record," Salazar said.
"Then only two of us can go," Godric said. "You also have to take into account something my uncle Algie once told me. The prophecies of the Department of Mysteries can only be touched by those to whom it refers. I propose that the couple go."
"I think another combination might work better," Rowena said. "Godric and Salazar are a better choice for visiting shelf 97."
"I don't like the idea of leaving them without cover in that place," Helga said.
"They'll be fine."
"For my sake. It's been a long time since Godric and I went on a solo mission," he smiled with his friend.
"And you want me not to worry?" Helga asked raising an eyebrow.
They spent the next few hours planning how to do it. The Department of Mysteries was completely empty at five in the afternoon. Although she would have surveillance outside after what had happened weeks ago. Something that had not been reflected externally but that the entire department of Aurors was involved, or at least a part of those responsible for the protection of the Ministry itself. It was not her turn, but it would not cost her anything to get the shifts of those who were there that night, she said. In any case, that was the second option. If they could avoid passing through the door of the Department of Mysteries she would avoid it. So they drew up several plans, knowing that they would only have a few seconds to adapt them or leave having failed. Salazar knew that they should not fail, that this had to come out no matter what.
The first part of the plan was up to Godric and was to convince his grandmother to allow him to spend the rest of Christmas with "Salazar." That worked quite well, because apparently his grandmother associated her grandson's improvement with having Salazar as a friend. So it was a relationship that she approved. The second part of the plan was a little difficult, since they had to convince Sirius to let them study quietly until dinner time. The Animagus tried to label them as boring and fussy, so Salazar had to resort to some compromising photographs as blackmail. The third part of the plan was put into action as soon as they knew they were alone and would not be disturbed. Just at six in the evening.
"It's time, Kreacher," Salazar said.
Plan A was in place. It consisted of trusting that the Ministry had no barriers against house-elves. Which apparently worked because they immediately found themselves inside what they supposed to be the Department of Mysteries. A place designed like a labyrinth. The elf did not leave them at any time, aware that they could need him to leave the place in a moment of emergency. It was fortunate that the wizards today were so arrogant believing themselves to be the superior species; because that was what they had taken advantage of. It took them a while to find the prophecy room and find their way around it, but as soon as they were in front of the right shelf they focused on the prophecy. Apparently at first it mentioned only Voldemort and then there was a question, which was later crossed out and given the name that Salazar currently had, Harry Potter.
"Will it be safe to touch it?" Salazar asked.
"I hope so," Godric said. "Our friend had faith."