spoke before Amelia could get her gander up. "Harry,
we spoke about this. Black confounded all three of you."
"No, Minister. You took the word of a Death Eater rather than listen to us, simply because he was saying the things you wanted to be true." Turning his attention back to Bones, Harry then asked a rather impertinent question. "What exactly is the Dark Mark?"
Harry Potter was nothing like Amelia was expecting, Susan had said he was almost cripplingly shy. Coming from Susan, who had more than a touch of shyness about herself too, Amelia thought she would have to coax any answers she wanted out the boy. Deciding to play along and see where this led, she gave his question the textbook answer. "The Dark Mark is Lord Voldemort's trademark, he brands his followers with it and it's cast into the sky after battles."
Shaking his head, Harry's frown let everyone know what he though of that answer before he'd even opened his mouth to reply. "I wouldn't even give that an 'acceptable' grade. The only bit of that I agree with is he designed the mark as his motif, though he's certainly no Lord. Tom Marvolo Riddle is the offspring of Merope Gaunt, an impoverished pureblood, and Tom Riddle - a local muggle she used a love potion on."
Although he'd not been introduced, both Harry and Hermione recognised Macnair from his visit to Hagrid's while attempting to execute Buckbeak. More importantly, they recognised from Tom's memories that he was an Inner Circle Death Eater - which was why they were pursuing this topic. Macnair looked as if he as trying to lay a dragon-sized egg after hearing that about his master's blood status, though the rest of the company appeared just as shocked. Harry pushed on toward their objective.
"The Death Eaters don't fight battles, the cowards ambush or murder people in their sleep - using that disgusting mark to then lay claim to their kills. That mark isn't branded or tattooed on either, really poor research by the DMLE. Then again, an innocent man has a death sentence on him so no surprise there. Hermione, on the other hand, is a fantastic researcher. She misses nothing - care to set them straight, Hermione?"
As Hermione took over the narrative, it was now Harry's job to keep an eye on Macnair.
"Riddle's Dark Mark is a bastardisation of the Protean Charm. It links him to his followers, allowing Riddle to contact - and even punish them - through their mark. You see Riddle binds his followers to him using soul magic, and what is the one thing that's universal to all forms of soul magic?" The answer hit Amelia like a sledgehammer. Where seconds before she'd been turning red with anger, her complexion now had a distinct grey parlour to it as the implications of this hit home. If this girl's facts turned out to be true, it would shake the very foundations of their society. Amelia muttered what the girl was obviously alluding to. "Soul magic has to be accepted voluntary. A person's soul can't be fooled with a curse or potion - the magic simply wouldn't take."
This news getting out could spell disaster for Cornelius, and some of his close friends. He was now regretting inviting Rita along, and wondering how much her silence on this matter would cost those friends. He had no idea Harry was nowhere near finished yet.
"Riddle is a parselmouth, and used parseltongue magic to administer and then control those who wear his Dark Mark. Dumbledore thinks I inherited my parseltongue ability the night Riddle hit me with the killing curse. I suppose I really should thank the Ministry, they actually helped me too - in a roundabout fashion. Being attacked by dementors has been unlocking some of my parsletongue abilities, and I had already been attacked twice before I met my godfather."
It was now time to reveal why they had brought this matter up. "There is a spell, cast in parseltongue, that proves my Godfather is no Death Eater. He actually invited me to cast it on him." Harry was of course lying through his teeth, though there was certainly a spell that accomplished what he claimed. Riddle had delved deep into his ability as a parslelmouth, practically creating a new branch of magic. Harry had no intention of telling anyone in this room about the knowledge he and Hermione shared.
Before any of them could even think to object, Harry drew his wand and, pointing at the ceiling, hissed a spell into the air. Macnair immediately dropped to his knees, clutching his forearm while clearly in agony. The commotion that kicked off only stopped when the flash of the camera reminded everyone there was a press presence here.
"Mr Potter, what are you implying here?" Amelia had her wand out but was unsure who to point it at, not a condition she was in anyway used to. She wanted answers, and was determined to get them. Amelia had no way of knowing Harry and Hermione intended for her to have those answers from the instant Macnair walked into the infirmary.
Poppy's wand was currently scanning Macnair, and the results were confusing her. "He's clearly in great pain but I can't discover what's causing it. It's definitely radiating from his forearm though." Since Macnair was clutching onto that forearm as if his life depended on it, that last bit didn't require a healer to figure out.
"This would be Riddle's method of controlling his slaves. Make no mistake, that's what they were to him. His Dark Mark on their arm bound their very souls to him - and any other parselmouth who knows the right spells." Turning to Macnair, Harry asked the Dark wizard a question. "What is your name?"
"Walden Macnair."
"Are you a Death Eater?"
"Yes."
Fudge was trying to stop these questions, his proclaiming of this being "Preposterous" were being ignored. No one else missed Amelia's wand was now trained on the kneeling Macnair.
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