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Druella at the Ministry


Druella Black held the wands and bits of shirts high above her head, her hair wild and her eyes full of an insanity, contagious from Fenrir Greyback’s anger back in the cottage in the Great Northern Woods. She laughed, loud, her cackles echoing off the high walls and windows that filled the wide entry chamber of the Ministry for Magic, her voice ricocheting off the fountain’s golden statues that loomed over the witches and wizards that were just leaving for the end of their shifts. She found herself in a bit of a clearing, the people around her gasping a they recognized her, and she stood on the edge of the fountain to give herself height… and she threw the wands and clothing down to the black tile floor, her evidence delivered, and she drew her wand, aiming it straight above her head.

“MORSMORDRE!” she shrieked and from her wand billowed a great green-black cloud in the shape of a skull with a horrible snake for a tongue that wove and wound it’s way into the mark of the Dark Lord, hovering over the antechamber.

People began screaming -- running -- a frenzy of panic filled the Ministry, witches and wizards alike -- frantically rushing in every direction -- their cries echoing from the ceiling! Druella clapped her hands happily at the absolute horror show she’d caused as people rushed for the grates of the floo network, ran for the telephone box elevator, hurried to flush themselves through the loo exits…

She danced about in a circle, brandishing her wand at random victims, laughing with a manic sort of fever, her face red with the thrill. “Avada Kedavra! Crucio! Avada Kedavra! Avara Kedavra!” Screams of agony added to the shouts of fear as those she crucioed cried out in their pain, writhing to the floor… names cried out as colleagues and friends fell to the green jets of light of the killing curse…

“EXPULSO!” she cried, aiming her wand up at a crystal chandelier that hung high over the chamber, the glass bits shattering, falling, crashing to the floor with the sound like a tidal wave striking shore. People were cut, people fell to the floor, slipping on the broken shards, crying out in pain and shock…

“Arresto momentum!” came Gideon Prewett’s voice from the elevator grates as he arrived from the department of magical law enforcement, his wand aimed for the falling chandelier, the great glowing piece stopping midway to the floor, quivering as he used all his strength to keep it there, his wand arm trembling with the effort of it.

“Immobulus!” Fabian Prewett yelled at exactly the same time, his wand aimed for Druella herself, who stood, teetering on the edge of the fountain, cackling evilly, frozen in the charm. Fabian ran to collect her, followed by several other aurors that had poured forth from the elevator grates, others ran to help Gideon lower the chandelier.

Druella Black waited until Fabian was upon her before she overthrew the immobulus, waving her arms to break free, aiming her wand for Fabian, “Flippendo!” she cried and the jet of light blasted him in the chest, sending him head over heels backwards, knocking over the aurors coming to his aid like a bunch of bowling pins, sending them all sprawling to the floor. She laughed and leaped from the edge of the fountain, running into the thick of the escaping crowd, headed for one of the floo grates, looking over her shoulder to be sure none of the aurors recovered before she could get out… and she ran right into Harold Minchum.

“INCARCEROUS!” he bellowed and his wand shot out gold ropes that bound Druella Black as tight as could be, quicker than she ever could’ve hoped to escape. “Mobilicorpus,” he said and raised his wand to lift the bound Druella Black above the running crowd, her form struggling against her ties, screaming threats, avowing the Dark Lord would come for her, would rescue her, would see to it that the entire ministry be destroyed, decimated, turned to nothing more than rubble and dust… “MAY HE TRY,” shouted Harold Minchum in response to her shrieks, “FOR I WILL HAPPILY BE WAITING FOR HIM WHEN HE ARRIVES!”




In Godric’s Hollow, James and Sirius sat facing one another on James’s bed, both in pyjamas. Bubo sat on her perch in the corner, preening her wing feathers, and James picked at a loose thread on his socks as Sirius rocked himself, hugging his knees. “Bloody hell, there has to be some word,” he murmured, “It’s been all ruddy day.” He looked to James with wide, fearful eyes, “What if Dumbledore’s not updating us because it’s bad and he thinks not telling me right away will spare me pain or some stupid fuckery like that?”

James shook his head, “Dumbledore wouldn’t do that. He’d come and tell you if something was bad. Or else he’d send Miss. Minnie or Kingsley or Moody or somebody.”

Suddenly, there was a scream from downstairs - followed by something shattering - and James leaped from the bed, running out of the room and down the hallway. Sirius jumped up, too, grabbed James’s wand from the nightstand where he’d forgotten it, and ran, after his mate, drawing his own wand. “James!” he called, thundering after him on the stairs and James looked back as Sirius tossed his wand to him, catching it, and they hurried into the kitchen to find Dora Potter standing in the center of the kitchen, flinging tea cups and saucers to the floor…

“WHERE IS THAT BLOODY DOG WHEN YOU NEED IT! OH MERLIN’S BEARD!” she cried.

“Mum! What is it? What’s the matter?” James cried, rushing to Dora.

Sirius breathed deep, catching the scent, “Rat,” he said and he fixed James with a meaningful stare, then turned, grabbing the handle of the cellar door and wrenching it open. The rat stood, trembling on the top step. He reached down and picked the rat up by it’s tail - it swished and squealed, waving it’s legs about quickly, trying to escape, grabbing onto it’s own tail and tugging. “I’ve got it, Mrs. Potter, it’s alright.” He turned and she shrieked, ducking away quickly. “James - the door, if you will?”

Charlus skid into the room, having gone to bed early, not feeling well. “What’s happening?” he asked, worry in his eyes. The scales left over from the Dragon Pox that marred his face seemed more prominent than usual.

James said, “Rat. Mum’s found a rat.” He turned to Dora, “Don’t worry, Mum, we’ll take care of it, don’t worry. You and Dad just work on repairing all the dishes!” he smiled and pulled the door opened for Sirius and the rat, then ducked out into the yard after them as Dora nodded, still clutching her heart, leaning against the sink at the far end of the room, and Charlus hurried over to comfort her.

They ran in their slippers across the stone patio, jumped a low hedgerow and bolted through the empty field’s long grasses into the trees at the edge of the woods. The moment Sirius dropped the rat onto the ground, it exploded into Peter Pettigrew.

“BLOODY HELL!” he cried, eyes wild, face twitching with fear, “She nearly got me with some of those plates!”

“You idiot, I told you she’s terrified of rats!” said James admonishingly. “Are you mental? You’re just lucky she didn’t blast you to death! There’s still a dent in the tile by the pantry where she saw a garden gnome and thought it was a rat once. Poor thing didn’t stand a chance.”

Peter shivered, “I didn’t know what else to do! Have you heard anything about Remus yet?”

“Fenrir Greyback took him to the north, where he’s building a bloody army for Voldemort, and Dumbledore’s gone with Newt Scamander to save him,” Sirius said, summarizing quickly, Peter’s eyes growing comically large with the words, “That was this morning ‘round breakfast and we haven’t heard anything else since!”

Peter worried his hands, “Well my dad was at the Ministry tonight and he said there was an attack, just as he was leaving! Druella Black was there and she exploded half the Ministry and killed loads of people! She set the Dark Mark in the chamber and she had a wand and was saying Greyback killed somebody!” Peter looked terrified.

Sirius sank to the ground.

James grabbed Sirius’s shoulders as he started to tremble. “Ferfucksakes, Pete,” he hissed.

“I’m only telling you lot what I know!” Peter said, “It might not have a thing to do with Remus - I just --”

“WHAT ELSE COULD IT FUCKING BE?” Sirius screamed, and he stood up and shoved Peter in the stomach, taking the anger that was exploding inside of him out on his friend. Peter fell to the forest floor, splayed out, his face pale with shock at the rage coming out of Sirius. “SHE ONLY HAD REMUS!” Sirius fell back to his knees again.

James tried again to comfort Sirius but Sirius threw him off, jumped to his feet, running into the trees and transformed into Snuffles, hitting the leaves at a run, disappearing into the dark.

Peter was shaking, “I didn’t mean to --”

“I know,” James murmured, staring into the trees the way Sirius had gone.

Peter stared up at James. “Do you really think Remus is --”

“I dunno Pete,” James replied. “I certainly hope not.”

Peter shivered and James held out his hand to pull him up. “Blimey. C’mon, we’ve got to go after Sirius…” and with that, James quickly transformed into his stag, standing, waiting for Peter to go rat and climb up on his back.

“But we dunno what’s in the woods,” Peter shivered.

James honked in his throat and brandished his antlers at Peter menacingly.

“Alright! Alright.” Peter hurried to transform… and scrambled up James’s leg onto his back, and James turned, carrying the rat upon him… running through the trees the direction that Snuffles had disappeared in.




After bringing Frank to the Longbottom home - he apparated to the cul-de-sac, carrying Newt Scamander’s briefcase. He hurried into the safety of the Fidelus Charm, and up the walk, knocking on the door of the house.

Charlus opened the door, “Dumbledore!” he said and he stepped back, letting the old man in. He looked down and saw the briefcase, “Mr. Scamander - he isn’t --” worry filled his eyes.

“Dead? No. He’s in the case. Is there a place we could go to open it up and check on them? I’m afraid that Remus Lupin’s been injured and they are working on trying to mend him as we speak.”

“Yes, of course, this way.” Charlus rushed into the living room, waved his wand to clear everything off the coffee table, as though it’d been shoved off in one swipe of the arm.

Dumbledore ran forward, laying the case on the surface of the table and unlatching the hinges. The first time he opened the case, it was to reveal mundane items - a brush, a couple pairs of folded pants, three identical Hufflepuff scarves, and a notebook. He closed the case and spun the lock with his thumb so that the little knob that read Muggle Friendly disappeared. He opened it again and there was a blast of bright light from within, and the little ladder that led down into the depths of Newt Scamander’s laboratory.

Dora came out of the kitchen, having been standing at the back door calling for James and Sirius - they’d been disposing of that rat for over ten minutes now and she was nervous for them - and saw Dumbledore as he leaned into the case, “Mr. Scamander! How are we coming along.”

Inside Newt’s briefcase was quite a place indeed… it was as though he had leaned into a great indoor zoo, with long corridors that trailed off as far as the eye could see with glass encased habitats and holding pens, tall plants and funny creatures peering about, their beady eyes looking up at Albus Dumbledore from their perches, pens, and what have yous. Newt Scamander sat on a tall stool beside a tall table, lined with sheets, upon which lay Remus Lupin, fast asleep, as Newt used a funny looking tool that looked like a needle held with tweezers, and sewed Remus’s shoulder closed. Newt raised a pair of funny looking magnifying glasses from his face and looked up at Dumbledore, “We’re - we’re well. I’m just… stitching him up. Like muggles do, you see, only answer for magical bites like this, you know.” He lowered the glasses again and turned back to Remus.

“He’s going to be quite alright in no time at all,” Tina Scamander promised.

Ned Veigler sat in a chair, nervously stroking what looked like a very, very large pygmy puff, his face pale, but drawn in relief.

“Carry on, then,” Dumbledore commanded, “And let us know when we might be able to bring visitors to see the patient. There is a boy here who I am sure will be most eager to visit Mr. Lupin the moment he is able.”

“We will,” called Tina.

Dumbledore stood upright and looked at the Potters, closing the briefcase. “Where is Sirius? I have promised to give him news the moment I could.”

Charlus turned to Dora, “Have they come back yet?”

Dora shook her head.