Published at 27th of May 2024 12:14 am

Chapter 219: The Slow Knife

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2 May 1994, Ministry of Magic, London

Amelia Bones wanted to go home, lay down on her bed and fall asleep. She was so tempted to do just that and let someone else deal with this mess. Unfortunately, she didn't know anyone competent enough to handle this. Fudge, by himself, was freaking out, hoping for some miracle that would make this whole mess disappear.

Unfortunately, every person worth knowing was in the crowds during the third task of Dumbledore's ridiculous tournament, and all of them witnessed what happened there. There was no burying this and that meant that she had to be involved as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Most people didn't even know what really happened, but at the end of the day, two killing curses were cast, and at least one man was murdered, and that meant that the DMLE had to deal with the clusterfuck that happened.

Dumbledore had stood there, frozen for entire minutes, probably processing what had just happened and he had agreed to come to her office to answer a few questions. So far, the man had remained silent, lost in his own head, in their interrogation room. He didn't look as shocked as he was the day before. He was visibly more collected, unconcerned with what could happen to him. She supposed he was right to feel this way. For all people's misgivings, people forgot about the man's raw power and sheer might. No one could do anything against Dumbledore directly. It was just not done. Arresting him was not possible, but there were other ways of hurting a man.

Amelia sat on the other side from the headmaster and spoke up for the first time, "Hello Albus."

"Good morning, Amelia," the older wizard said, "It's been quite an eventful day. I admit that it took some time to regain my bearings. I assume that you have a few questions."

"That's putting it mildly. What in Merlin's name happened yesterday?"

"I have no idea and isn't that wonderful? It takes a lot for me to be taken off-guard in my old age, but yesterday definitely did the trick."

Amelia sneered at him, "This is not the time to be joking around. One of my men died yesterday, because of your failings. Let me be straight with you, if this had been anyone else, they would have ended up with a one-way trip to prison, with no way out."

"Oh, Amelia. This intimidating tactic might work on your common criminal, but not someone who has watched over you ever since you were eleven. Nevertheless, I must imagine that you must be mourning your colleague and am prepared to answer any questions you might have. I am as much the victim as you were, after all."

The Bones Matriarch held her tongue, not wanting to escalate things further, and decided to humour the man, "Who was the man who killed my Auror? Who was the man who you spoke to yesterday?"

"Gellert Grindelwald."

Amelia expected this answer. She had looked at various pictures taken of the Dark Lord in the forties. There were plenty, even if the ICW wanted to bury them. At the end of the day, Gellert Grindelwald was a speaker and his invasion was a movement of some sort, promoting either the eradication of the muggles or their enslavement before they inevitably wiped out the wizarding world. The man had made a lot of speeches and spoke in front of elected officials and ministers alike. He was just as much a public figure as he was a Dark Lord. That was what made him different, that was what made him truly dangerous.

Unfortunately for Dumbledore, he could not use that man's name in fear, "We're exploring that angle right now. We have asked the ICW to give us an update on Grindelwald's status in Nurmengard, and as far as they could tell, the man never left the prison and looks a lot older than the man who attacked the third task. In fact, he looked around your age."

The headmaster shook his head, "You don't understand. I know Gellert Grindelwald and that was him. He's restarting the war. We don't have time for this nonsense. We need to prepare. You really have no idea what you're dealing with."

And there was Dumbledore's usual condescension. The Bones Matriarch steeled herself and continued, "The man said that Azkaban's destruction was his own handiwork. Did you have any inclination that this was true before he revealed himself?"

"No," the man denied, "You have to understand that I bound Gellert's very soul to the prison. He should have never had any influence outside it, never escaped it, even in death."

"And why did you go to such lengths to imprison him forever?"

"Gellert always had contingencies connected to his death. If he had died, believe me, the magical world would be far worse for it."

Amelia snorted, "That's very vague."

"And yet it is the only answer you're getting."

"Fine. Tell me about your relationship with Gellert Grindelwald. From you way you speak of him, you seem very familiar with each other. In a different way than being enemies, I mean."

The elderly man froze for a second before continuing, "We were friends, once. Before his crusade, before the war. We were just two lonely prodigious young wizards. Our mentors put us in touch, you see. We did not part on good terms. Gellert wanted to change the world but I was too burdened with my sister's death that I decided not to join him. Sometimes I wonder if I could have convinced him to do things differently. We'll never know, I suppose."

Amelia pounced at the new information, "So, what happened to your sister, the Potter boy told the truth about it."

The answer she got was a sad chuckle, "No, and I think young Harry knew that and wanted to hurt me the way I hurt him. The truth is that I don't know what happened to my sister, not really. My brother, Gellert and I had a disagreement which ended up in a three-way duel. My sister came into the room and there was an explosion of magic. When we got up, Arianna had died. I don't know if it was any of our spells or even Arianna's own unstable magic that did it, but I always felt guilty about it. The Potter boy pounced on my grief because I tried to take him away from Arcturus. It was deserved, now that I think about it. I have made a lot of mistakes when it came to him, ones that I will have to make up for."

Amelia definitely didn't like Dumbledore's tone in the end, "Do you think the intruder might have been a descendant of Grindelwald? A son or perhaps a Grandson of some sort?"

She definitely did not expect the man to burst into laughter, "Oh, Merlin no. The mere thought of it is hilarious."

"And why is that?"

"You wouldn't understand, my dear. Now, if that's alright with you, we need to speak about your plans with Mr. Longbottom."

Now, that was a clusterfuck and a half. Britain's golden boy – even if they have been critical of him in the past year – had just cast a fucking killing curse at his potions professor in public, "What is there to talk about? The boy cast an unforgivable curse."

"Oh, come on, Amelia. You can't possibly believe that the Wizengamot would convict him about anything. Outside of him being a minor, he was obviously distressed, and Gellert publicly stated that he had taken the boy. And the killing curse didn't hit anyone. Severus was more than able to conjure something to block the spell. No one was harmed."

And he was right. Of course, Amelia's curse-breaking team took one look at the boy and said that he wasn't in his right mind. Apparently, there were signs of subtle compulsions, but also something that messed with the boy's infamous scar. They couldn't make any heads or tails of it, but it somehow became activated and messed with the boy's head when he cast the curse. According to a few mind healers, the boy needed help urgently.

Augusta Longbottom had gone all mother hen on him and threatened anyone from revealing any of their findings, not that they had anything concrete. The scar baffled even their brightest minds. The Longbottom Matriarch obviously knew something but wasn't willing to talk, proclaiming the scar to be a family secret.

Still, there were no victims, the boy was obviously not in his right mind. Aside from forcing him to attend mandatory sessions with a mind healer, there was very little they could do about it.

"You're right, the matter is settled. However, your old friend Elphias Doge is going to spend a couple of years in prison for casting an unforgivable like that."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine with it," the man responded with a patronizing tone that made Amelia want to punch his face in, "After all, I designed my prison to be quite comfortable."

"The ministry's prison, you mean."

"Sure, just a mistake on my part."

The Bones Matriarch decided to wipe out that proud smile from his face, "Speaking of your prison, the Wizengamot just voted earlier today to fully investigate it. It's nothing personal, it's just that the Grindelwald impersonator made a lot of proclamations during the third task, and they decided to make sure that they were baseless. You have nothing to worry about, of course, if you have nothing to hide that is."

"That is an outrage of justice," the man protested, "I have rights…"

"Don't worry, they're just investigating everything you did in regards to the ministry and foreign matters. We're not looking at your private affairs. Yet. In the meantime, you have been temporarily suspended from your role as Chief Warlock. I'm sure it's just a matter of time until you get it back, but you see, Britain can't afford to allow people to have high positions in the government while they're being investigated, especially with the Quidditch World Cup just around the corner."

"My prison…"

Amelia's grin turned vicious, "Don't worry about your prison. It's not yours anymore, is it? You donated it to the ministry. There's been talk about having a team of warders take down every piece of magic and rebuild it from scratch. The dementors will probably be fussy for a bit and the ministry cells a bit overcrowded, but it's important for the ministry to understand every nook and cranny of its prison, isn't it?"

"With what gold?"

"Oh, Arcturus Black was more than happy to finance the project, something about you attacking your ward. Grindelwald said a lot of things about what you have done to him, and the man seemed to hold a grudge."

The headmaster shook his head, "That was all nonsense, and you know it. We all saw what happened that day. I made sure that everything would be transparent. What happened to the Potter boy was a tragic accident."

"Then explain why a second Harry Potter arrived in the hospital wing with some very serious damage and signs of magic overuse. He's been unconscious ever since. That's not to mention the fact that after some careful investigation, the boy found in the maze seemed to have been magically altered using alchemy to look like the boy. Add that to Grindelwald's accusation and we don't have a pretty picture of what happened, Albus."

That was when she knew she had him, that's when she knew that whatever Dumbledore had planned regarding the Potter boy had backfired. The boy obviously wasn't supposed to have survived. The sheer shock on the man's face was more than proof enough.

Of course, it lasted barely more than a fraction of a second, but she had caught it, "What a curious mystery. I hope that you have some other form of proof than the words of a murderer."

"Oh, we don't, but unfortunately, someone spoke of the findings to the media. The Prophet ran the story this morning. It paints quite a bad picture of you. By the way, the school board wanted to speak to you after this, something about a suspension and an investigation of your affairs in Hogwarts. In the meantime, they have removed access from the wards and assigned Minerva McGonagall as the temporary headmaster. As for now, you're free to go, Mr. Dumbledore. We'll be in touch."

"You don't understand! Grindelwald is coming. You need me!"

Amelia shook her head, "That's for us to decide. And we haven't convicted you. We have just removed a few of your positions…"

And just like that, the Bones Matriarch walked out of the interrogation room, feeling more exhausted than ever after the confrontation. While it was nice to wipe that smile off Dumbledore's face, the workload ahead of them was intimidating, "The overtime alone will be a nightmare…"

Days later, she was proven right. The overtime was, in fact, a nightmare.

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