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Chapter 51 – Finishing Work
All the Death Eaters who still possessed wands had escaped. Those who remained were either insignificant figures or uninvolved with the Dark Lord's forces.
"Headcount!" Arthur shouted, taking another sip of his Polyjuice Potion.
"Minister, we have sixteen dead and five seriously injured. Nine were killed in the explosion in the basement."
"Damn it… still not perfect."
Lockhart was deeply displeased. He was certain the sabotage of the anti-Apparition mechanism had been Barty Crouch Jr.'s idea—though Crouch Jr. would no longer feel proud of his meticulous planning.
"Where are the prisoners?" Arthur asked.
"There were fifty-two corpses, and thirty-one escaped. About half of those were likely struck mid-Apparition—so their condition is unknown. Most Dementors were destroyed, but as nothing remains of their bodies, we can't count them."
The most dangerous prisoners, fortunately, had been under strict surveillance, so very few of them escaped—though not all had been eliminated.
"Minister—may I have a word?"
Lockhart gestured subtly.
Arthur followed him to a quiet corner. "What is it?"
"I need to return to Fudge's home immediately to adjust their memories. Give me every memory from the time you were disguised as the Minister—your version will be easier to implant."
"All right."
Arthur drew his wand, extracted a strand of memory from his temple, placed it into a small vial, and handed it over.
"Then I'm off."
"Do it properly. Don't leave loose ends," Arthur said sternly.
With a crack, Lockhart Apparated away.
"Everyone else," Arthur shouted, "escort all ordinary prisoners who didn't escape back to the Ministry. The Auror Office will assign personnel to construct a temporary holding facility. If staff are insufficient, request support from other departments. Get the injured to St Mungo's immediately!"
By this point, no one even bothered asking for physical evidence anymore—the sudden rebellion of the Dementors was evidence enough.
Lockhart arrived at Fudge's house and first modified the memories of Pandora and her parents so that nothing unusual had occurred. The Minister, however, was more difficult—he had mastered some Occlumency, and altering his memories required finesse.
Lockhart worked methodically.
He began with the memory of their conversation after dinner, then replaced the part where Lockhart stunned him with the wand. Instead, Fudge now remembered Lockhart presenting a booklet—one "proving" Dementor and Death Eater collaboration to overthrow the Ministry. In a moment of impulsive judgement, Fudge accepted Lockhart's proposal, returned to the Ministry, gathered personnel, and launched the mission to take over Azkaban.
Arthur's memories were then transplanted carefully into Fudge's mind, adjusted to appear more like the Minister's own actions and combat decisions. In these new recollections, a large number of fugitives were killed, and the destruction of the anti-Apparition field allowed a few to escape. Then the weary Minister returned home for rest.
Good. All done.
Next, he would leak the story to Rita Skeeter. Even if Fudge suspected something, he'd be forced to accept the public narrative.
By the time everything was finished, the sky was beginning to lighten. Lockhart returned to the Order of the Phoenix headquarters, where he and the others cleaned up any remaining traces, synchronised their accounts, and finally reported the results to Dumbledore.
The entire operation—from planning to execution—had taken under seven days. Only a handful of people knew the full plan. Aside from failing to capture every target, the mission was near-perfect: confidential, efficient, decisive. For years, the Order of the Phoenix had acted almost entirely defensively. This first proactive strike had achieved overwhelming success—crippling Voldemort's forces, exposing the Death Eaters' attempts to rejoin the wizarding world early, and involving only the Ministry publicly while the Order stayed hidden in the shadows.
But what pleased Lockhart the most was that he had proved the plot could be changed—and he had avenged Barty Crouch Jr.'s trickery. He imagined Crouch Jr.'s stunned expression as he died.
He drifted into sleep, picturing Voldemort's fury.
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"What is the meaning of this?!" Voldemort roared, his face twisted in rage.
"You told me the Ministry would never find out, Barty! If I hadn't extracted you first in secret, there would be barely five of us left at this table!"
"Master, I—I cannot explain it," Crouch Jr. stammered. "The plan was flawless. Even my decoy is dead! This was a calculated massacre! The Ministry would never be so bold—it must be the Order of the Phoenix. Maybe it was Gilderoy Lockhart. That man terrifies me when he's ruthless."
"Gilderoy Lockhart?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Is he truly that powerful?"
"Master, at least a dozen of the death eaters were rescued," Snape interjected smoothly, ignoring the talk of Lockhart.
"Those who deserved death survived, and those who shouldn't have died are gone!" Voldemort surveyed the table. Only five or six worthy Death Eaters remained, though twenty-four chairs had been prepared. His fury spiked.
"Cruc— Incarcerous of the Heart!"
Little Barty, who had escaped Azkaban twice, now writhed in agony under his master's curse.
Lucius, Narcissa, and the others trembled, not daring to lift a finger.
"Master," Snape said quietly, "our priority is to replenish our ranks. Those who died cannot be returned, but pure-blood families loyal to you are always producing promising children. And there is still the Imperius Curse."
"You are correct, Severus."
Voldemort raised his wand and surveyed his followers.
"So—have you any candidates? Lucius, your son attends Hogwarts."
"Master," Narcissa pleaded softly, "he is only fifteen."
"I am not asking him to fight battles! Only to watch Dumbledore!" Voldemort hissed. He turned back to Barty Jr.
"I will—mercifully—grant you one more chance. Bring me the prophecy concerning myself and the Potter boy. The sooner, the better."
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