"- Moody's involvement in the Auror Academy is working wonders," said Amelia as she continued with her report. "The quality of the Aurors has increased notably and because of the new incentives, more young witches and wizards are joining the Auror corps."
"Good," said Sirius, as he looked through the several files on his desk, which contained more reports from other departments of the Ministry of Magic. "I don't want us to crumble like we did the last time. Bagnold should have nipped things in the bud when Voldemort started rising, but with most of his Death Eaters being prominent members in the Ministry or the Wizengamot, she took all the wrong decisions. Crouch's tactics came too late and they did more harm than good. If any dark witch or wizard rises again, I want to finish him or her before it gets out of hand."
"Give it another five years and our Auror force will be back to how it was during the Grindelwald war," said Amelia reassuringly.
"Now, any news on Bertha Jorkins?"
"None," Amelia grimaced. "I had no clue of her disappearance until word spread throughout the Ministry. Apparently, Ludo Bagman thought she was fine and that she might have ended up in Australia instead of Albania. It was only in December that my department found out about it."
"I really don't this," said Sirius, feeling uneasy.
"Why? I have contacted the Albanian Ministry of Magic, but they have no news yet. I've heard that her memory is quite loose. It seems unlikely, but maybe she went to the wrong place by accident and something happened…"
"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins. She was in Gryffindor with James and me, not to mention was Lily's roommate, and let me tell you, Amy, she was an idiot; very nosy, no brains at all and she loved to gossip. You should have heard Lily and Alice rant about her all those years ago. That girl I knew did not have a faulty memory so I'm confused as to how that suddenly happened. It's a dangerous combination and -"
"She might have walked right into the group of Death Eaters?" asked Amelia, eyebrows raised.
"Well, I certainly wouldn't put it past Bellatrix to kill her," said Sirius grimly. "But what purpose would that serve? She's a lowly employee at the Department of Magical Games and Sports; she doesn't have access to any useful information, classified or not. I just don't see the point!"
They sat in silence for a minute. "Any news about the Death Eaters?" he asked quietly.
"None. Our sensor net is still operating at peak efficiency so we would have known about it in case they had come back to Britain. It now includes that underwater tunnel between England and France, so there is no coming back. So we'll have to infer that they're still abroad."
"It's not like her, Amy," said Sirius, feeling quite frustrated. Getting up from his chair, he began pacing. "I know Bella; she would not be this quiet unless she is planning something. We were raised as siblings all our lives, so I know in my gut that she's up to something, but I can't put my finger on it. What about the pardoned Death Eaters?"
"Nothing to report. They have been quiet, minding their own business and playing on the Wizengamot as usual. Sure, they have some shady deals here and there, but it's nothing to be concerned about. Oh, and Walden Macnair took an extended leave of absence, I heard."
Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "He has enough leave built up over the years and it's not like his job is that important," he said.
"Keep at it," he said heavily. "I'm still looking for the locket. I swear, I wonder what Regulus did with it! It's the last one! If we destroy that, there is no chance of Voldemort ever coming back!"
Amelia sighed as she closed her eyes. "When have our lives ever been easy?"
Sirius snorted as he rubbed his temples. He didn't know how Fudge enjoyed this job. Being the Minister of Magic was very demanding but he knew that he would be at this post for a long time; at least seven years. He might as well get used to it.
...
Harry's face was a blank mask as the dozen practice dummies surrounded him. His wand swished and swirled in the air as curses flew from the tip of his wand. When most witches and wizards in the world used magic, their spells usually had colour. This was because they didn't have much control over their magic, diluting the spells. Magic itself in its pure form did not have any colour. When it was not focussed enough, the spells when it comes into contact with anything outside the caster develops into a colour. However, experienced wizards like Dumbledore and Voldemort had enough control to decrease the amount of light being produced, thus increasing the power and efficiency of the spells. The only testament to the magic being cast would be ripples in the air. This was a technique which fascinated Harry when he watched the memories when Voldemort practised it. Using the Dark Lord's technique, Harry tried it himself.
Harry avoided the jets of light coming towards him, creating a full-body shield to protect himself. He dodged and cast several curses at them, destroying them. Harry had prepared a timetable on which subject he would practice each day and today was the Dark Arts. Twisting in mid-air, a pale jet of green light impacted the last dummy, blasting it to smithereens.
He panted, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. Finally, after too many failed attempts, he had managed to cast the Killing Curse silently. It was quite an achievement because most could not cast the curse at all and to do it silently was spectacular - not that anyone would appreciate it. He did not understand how the Killing Curse was worse than plenty of other curses the Dark Arts offered. At least it was nothing gory like the Blood-Boiling Curse or the Organ-Liquefying Curse.
It was now the end of May and Harry had been training non-stop since the day of the second task. He used every opportunity he could get to study or train, occasionally missing out on sleep as he browsed Voldemort's memories. But there lay the problem - the more he watched, the more he felt sorry for Tom Riddle.
The two of them were so similar yet so different… if only Tom had not split his soul, he might have gone on to be one of the greatest leaders of his generation. Instead, he let his fear of death cloud his judgement as he succumbed to the temptations of immortality. Every ritual had a price and immortality by the means of splitting his soul snatched away Tom Riddle's sanity.
Tom had never been able to control his emotions much. Unlike Harry, he had been a natural at Legilimency like Dumbledore, so being Muggle-raised, it took time for him to learn Occlumency. But since he had split his soul at the tender age of sixteen, his impressive Occlumency barriers he built up in his later years were useless against the raw anger he could not control. Instead of waging a political battle as the primary offensive and backroom murder as a last resort, his insanity had led him to start a war that killed thousands of witches and wizards and more Muggles as well. He had transformed from a boy who wanted to help the magical world to a monster who wanted to destroy it.
....
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