Year 7-17: Crack of the Whip

Harry wanted nothing more than to sleep in the following morning, to spend the entire day under the covers, hiding from what he had done. He had been responsible for two lives being taken the previous night...one he did not feel terribly about, while the other weighed on him heavily. An entirely preventable accident, borne out of his failure to account for outside factors interfering with his plans. Merlin, if that didn't just sum up his past six and a half years of missteps in this timeline…

But he also knew he could not afford to show weakness right now, not when any abnormal behavior would be scrutinized, would invite suspicion. So he forced himself out of bed for breakfast, walking stone-faced into the Great Hall as though it were a perfectly ordinary day.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Daphne whispered as he took his seat beside her at the Head Table. "You were making all kinds of noises in your sleep last night—"

"Just fine, thank you," Harry said icily. Daphne fortunately got the message and said nothing more. Nobody else in the room seemed aware that anything was awry, and he wanted to keep it that way.

The morning Prophet arrived soon after, bearing headline news of Crouch's murder. It made no mention of his past crimes or his history as a Death Eater, merely crediting him as a 'beloved Ministry official' who was tragically murdered in his home, along with his house-elf. Also included was a glittering photo of the green lightning bolt suspended over Crouch's home, though there was no sign of the skull Harry had included in his impromptu sigil before leaving the premises.

'Vigilante Neville Longbottom is considered the top suspect in this horrific attack,' the article stated. 'He has been classified as armed and dangerous by the Ministry, and is not to be apprehended by any member of the public. If anyone manages to spot this dangerous individual or his known cohorts, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, they are encouraged to contact the nearest Ministry official at once.'

At least that plan succeeded, Harry thought grimly. It felt a bit slimy to pin even more of his crimes on Neville, but it wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Neville would be killed by Voldemort if he was caught either way, and there would be time to clear matters up once this was all over. For now, he would take any opportunity to deflect blame away from himself.

Harry glanced down the row at the rest of the staff to gauge their reactions. Snape appeared unfazed, reading the article impassively as he ate his breakfast. The Carrows were hunched together, whispering amongst themselves, but neither appeared interested in Harry. Only Grindelwald met his gaze; the man was not even reading the Prophet, merely meeting Harry's eye and giving him a coy wink and a smile.

Did he already know the truth? Did his Sight grant him insight into Harry's actions? It chilled Harry to the core. But it was far from the most damning thing Grindelwald knew about him, anyway. The man already had enough ammunition to mark Harry for death, and was merely biding his time until he was strong enough to act against him. All Harry could do was put his head down and avoid suspicion from everybody else.

So he went to his classes, did his homework, attended to his Head Boy duties, and generally maintained appearances. He even attended the Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor Quidditch match at the end of January...unfortunately, Ravenclaw had put together its worst team in years, with Terry Boot forced to play Seeker in his absence, losing all three Snitches to Ginny Weasley. The overwhelming roar of support she received from all Houses was cause for concern...she wasn't still leading any student resistance groups, was she? Had Lily managed to talk sense into her or not?

Either way, he had other things to worry about. As emotionally scarring as Crouch and Winky's deaths had been, Harry could not cancel his assassination plans. He had to continue weakening Voldemort as much as possible before things came to a head and his hand was forced. He consulted Snape's journal every night, determining who the next best target might be. He could deal with the legal (and psychological) repercussions once the war was over.

One night, as he perused the tome, his Dark Mark suddenly burned angrily, causing him to flinch and drop the journal on the floor. "Everything alright?" called out Daphne from the other side of the divider.

"I'm fine," Harry muttered, hastily stowing the journal away. "I have to go." And he gathered his things and threw on a traveling cloak before hurrying from his dorm to Snape's office.

The office was already full when he arrived...Snape, Grindelwald, the Carrows, and Draco Malfoy were all present. Curiously, there was no Voldemort, despite the fact that Harry could sense the Dark Lord had been the one to summon them.

"We are needed elsewhere," said Snape, procuring a short length of rope from his desk. He invited everyone to gather around and place a hand to the rope. Once they were all in place, Snape tapped his wand to the Portkey, which activated, spinning them away from the office.

They landed in the cold night air, many miles away. For a moment Harry feared they were about to partake in another raid. But Snape led the way through the trees and into a clearing, and he saw a familiar sight rise up from the darkness: Malfoy Manor.

The group strode up the lane towards the large estate. As they passed through the iron gate, Harry felt a shiver of magic wash over him, causing his Dark Mark to prickle uncomfortably. Interesting ward scheme, he thought, making no comment as they strode up to the front door and into the manor.

Narcissa Malfoy stood waiting in the entryway as they entered. She nodded politely to each of them, giving Draco a thin smile as he passed by. He merely nodded jerkily to his mother and walked on past, whether because the Malfoys weren't the affectionate type, or they simply weren't allowed to be in such circumstances.

Snape led the way down a hallway and into an ornate dining room, where a long table was set up. Two dozen Death Eaters were already seated around it, leering at the late arrivals. Voldemort himself sat at the head of the table, beckoning them forth. Two seats on either side of him were empty, which were taken by Snape on his left and Grindelwald on his right (to the clear consternation of the others present). Harry, Draco and the Carrows filed in behind Snape to take the empty spots beside him.

Once everyone was seated, Voldemort stood to his feet to address the room. "Welcome, friends," he said with a sickening smile. "Before we begin, we have a new recruit I wish to introduce you all to. One of the most notorious dark wizards of the twentieth century has joined our ranks: Gellert Grindelwald."

There were murmurs of surprise as Grindelwald stood shakily to accept the welcome. There were gleeful chuckles from those already in the know, recognizing that they had a second Dark Lord on their side.

"Thank you for having me, my Lord," Grindelwald bowed deeply to Voldemort. "Though I readily admit that I am nowhere near the caliber of dark wizard as yourself. It is an honor to serve you."

Voldemort preened at this compliment as Grindelwald re-took his seat. Harry knew exactly what the man was doing: attempting to butter Voldemort up and downplay his own threat level. He wanted to evade notice as a skilled Dark Lord returning to power until he was strong enough to hold his own in combat. Harry would have to find ways to undermine Grindelwald and convince Voldemort that he was more dangerous than he seemed on the surface, before Grindelwald did the same to Harry.

"It has been some time since we all met together," Voldemort continued. "Our takeover of the Ministry means we can normally do our business out in the open, but unfortunately, recent events have forced us to discuss matters more privately."

Several Death Eaters grumbled in assent. One of their own had just been murdered in his own home, which must have been rattling to them. Such an event would no doubt cause them to circle the wagons and seek safety in numbers.

"I am certain that Neville Longbottom is the perpetrator of this attack," said Voldemort venomously. "We have long wondered what he is up to, and clearly he has been plotting this attack for some time, attempting to weaken my intelligence network."

"Will he go after any more of us, my Lord?" asked a fearful Dolohov.

"It is possible," Voldemort said thoughtfully. "I encourage each of you to strengthen the protections surrounding your personal homes. We have no way of knowing what his next move may be."

"I have already improved the wards of this manor, my Lord," Lucius drawled. "Only visitors who possess a Dark Mark may set foot on these grounds without my explicit permission."

There was a stifled guffaw of laughter from the end of the table. Everyone turned to Grindelwald, including Voldemort; the man appeared to have had a minor laughing fit.

"Apologies, my Lord," Grindelwald grinned. "I believe this Dark Mark strategy to be sound. The Longbottom boy possesses no Mark, so he will be unable to enter."

Harry wondered if Grindelwald was making fun of him with this remark, perhaps knowing that Harry was the one truly responsible for Crouch's murder. It occurred to him that Grindelwald had his own incentives for wanting the assassinations to continue. He too planned to usurp Voldemort at some point in the future, a job that would be made easier if Harry took out a few more of his supporters first. Or, better yet, Harry might slip up again and wind up killed during a future incursion, making Grindelwald's job of retrieving the Elder Wand that much easier.

"Gellert, have you had any success in locating Longbottom with your...abilities?" asked Voldemort.

"I have opened my Sight to this 'Phantom' individual and meditated for many hours upon it, my Lord," said Grindelwald. "He has eluded my perception thus far. All I can discern is that he is a young male in his teens, inexperienced but undeniably powerful."

This time, Harry knew for certain that Grindelwald was messing with him. He had to know that Harry was the true identity behind the Phantom moniker, and was subtly needling him with these ambiguous statements. He could not out Harry publicly just yet...doing so would cause Voldemort to kill Harry and claim the Elder Wand for himself, before Grindelwald was strong enough to challenge him for it. But he was leaving the door open for Voldemort to arrive at the correct conclusion eventually.

Voldemort, however, did not seem one bit concerned about Harry at the moment. He was still dead-set on his Neville theory, pacing to and fro deep in thought. "How can it be that the Longbottom boy and his friends have evaded capture for so long?" he growled. "My spy network has been scouring the Isles for them for months, with no luck."

"It is likely that the resistance movement has been helping him," grumbled Gilderoy Lockhart. "That, or he has enlisted foreign allies to aid his quest of vengeance."

"Yes, I suspect the same," Voldemort said thoughtfully. "Crouch informed me of increased troop movements on the continent shortly before his death. It would make sense that Longbottom is amassing an army against me...he likely targeted Crouch to leave me blind to such movements in the future."

"If I may, my Lord?" Grindelwald offered. "Are we certain the Longbottom boy is quite capable of such leadership skills? From what I gather speaking to students and staff at Hogwarts, he displayed no such talents while enrolled at the school."

Harry groaned internally at these words...Grindelwald was continuing to spin his tale, to plant seeds of doubt in Voldemort's mind about Phantom's true identity. But Voldemort was having none of it.

"You did not see what I saw in that graveyard three years ago, Gellert," Voldemort snapped. "The boy may be mediocre in regular life, but he wields some unknown power I have yet to determine. And now that he possesses the Wand of Destiny, I will not make the mistake of underestimating him again."

"Of course, my Lord," Grindelwald said with a submissive bow. The man was smart enough not to press the issue and incur Voldemort's ire – his job was done, the seed sown.

"Rodolphus," Voldemort suddenly snapped, causing the man to startle across the table from Harry. "What progress have you made in locating the resistance movement? I ordered you to search for them in earnest, did I not?"

Rodolphus Lestrange squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "Er...yes, my Lord," he stammered. "I have attempted to make contact with Crouch's old connections in Knockturn Alley, as you instructed. Except, well, many refuse to associate with me after what happened to Barty, and it is difficult to get direct answers out of anyone."

Voldemort looked highly irritated by this answer. Harry half-expected him to whip out his wand and curse Rodolphus for his ineptitude, but he showed an immense amount of restraint, bringing his features back under control.

"Very well, Rodolphus," said Voldemort coolly. "Do continue your efforts as best you can. It concerns me to no longer have eyes and ears in Britain's criminal underground."

"As you wish, my Lord," Rodolphus bowed.

Harry found this interaction peculiar, but it only served to reinforce his previous theory. Voldemort sought to keep Rodolphus close, despite his shortcomings, in order to keep his horcrux safe in the man's vault. Harry could see no other reason why he would put up with such incompetence and continue giving the man important tasks he could not complete.

"Lucius, I understand you had a matter to discuss," said Voldemort, turning to the owner of the household. "What news do you bring?"

Now it was Lucius Malfoy's turn to look uncomfortable. "I wish to inquire about...the snake, my Lord," Lucius said quietly.

"Nagini?" said Voldemort, arching an eyebrow. "What about her?"

There was a low hiss as the great snake came slithering into the room, as though sensing she was the topic of conversation. Several people jumped in alarm as the snake climbed up Voldemort's chair leg and draped itself over his shoulders, yellow eyes surveying the room warily. Harry immediately felt the malevolent energy rippling off of the great snake, similar to that of the locket and the ring, confirming his belief that she was a horcrux.

"She...well," said Lucius awkwardly, "she has been helping herself to the animals native to the area, including livestock. The local farmers have begun to notice the corpses piling up and asking uncomfortable questions."

"Yes, Nagini tells me she has taken a liking to your grounds," Voldemort chuckled, stroking the great snake underneath her chin. "It is the reason I have allowed her to roam here, even when I am away."

"Yes...well," said Lucius nervously. "The Muggle authorities already distrust us, and active suspicion is the last thing we want at the moment—"

"Then bribe them, or curse them into compliance," Voldemort snapped. "Have I not done you a great favor, Lucius, in moving out of your manor and ordering my followers to do the same, to give you and your wife the privacy you seek?"

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius said hastily. "I just wondered how long the snake will remain behind—"

"Nagini will roam as she pleases," Voldemort said firmly. "Consider it the price of your freedom, Lucius. I will not hear another word more on the matter."

"Understood, my Lord," Lucius bowed.

Voldemort moved out of Malfoy Manor? Harry thought. And the other Death Eaters as well? He'd long associated this place as the headquarters for the Death Eaters, but perhaps that was no longer the case. It made sense, considering they now had the resources and freedom to establish their own places of residence. Harry supposed he couldn't expect Voldemort to live in another man's manor forever.

He was also surprised to hear that Voldemort was allowing one of his own horcruxes to roam freely without his supervision. Then again, he did not realize that they were in danger, or even that anyone knew of their existence. That probably allowed him to act more blasé about Nagini's well-being. And Harry suspected he had his own reasons for keeping Nagini at Malfoy Manor...he clearly distrusted Lucius and wanted to keep an eye on him, which he could easily do through the snake's eyes.

"What is the state of the prisoners in your dungeon?" asked Voldemort.

"They have lost weight, but they remain relatively healthy," said Lucius. "I have ceased torturing them for information as you requested, to allow them to recover."

"Very well," Voldemort nodded. "Keep me informed if their condition significantly changes."

"I will," said Lucius. He looked conflicted, as if unsure if he should say what was truly on his mind. Finally, he blurted out, "My Lord, I would like to humbly request an additional helper to tend to them. My wife and I can only do so much on our own, since we got rid of the family house-elf."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes suspiciously at this. "Do you mean to tell me, Lucius," he said dangerously, "that you are unable to care for two unarmed prisoners on your own?"

"No, my Lord," Lucius said hastily. "I only mean to say...well, that is, I had hoped for an extra pair of hands...perhaps Wormtail, or someone else willing to move back into the manor and help…?"

"I am not your errand boy anymore, Lucius!" Peter Pettigrew shouted indignantly from down the table. "I am a valued member of society now. You can't make me do your grunt work anymore!"

"Wormtail is right, Lucius," said Voldemort. "I fear you have grown soft over the years, relying on elves and servants to do your bidding, and are now forced to perform menial tasks on your own in their absence. Am I to believe that it was a mistake to entrust you with this task?"

Lucius gaped in fear as he realized his mistake. "I apologize, my Lord," he said with a deep bow. "Forget I said anything. I will handle it myself." Voldemort narrowed his eyes malevolently at him before moving on.

The Dark Lord continued to roam around the room, calling upon various Death Eaters for reports. Harry got the sense that many of those gathered here were frustrated with their new lives as peaceful civilians, preferring the days of open violence and rebellious subterfuge they'd once enjoyed. Voldemort seemed irritated by this, urging his followers to continue on their present course as directed until they could claim total control.

"No, you may not!" Voldemort seethed when Lockhart made a meek request of him. "I have told you repeatedly not to anger the populace further with your aggressive mind invasions. Did you or did you not cause the owner of Fortescue's to slip into a coma last month?"

"I thought he might be harboring resistance fighters," Lockhart muttered defensively. "And the Healers at St. Mungo's say he's talking again."

"I will not have any more public outcries over your methods, Reaver," Voldemort said angrily. "Do not invade the memories of any more civilians without my explicit permission. In fact, do not invade anyone's memories for the foreseeable future, except the select targets of interest we have discussed."

"Of course, my Lord," said Lockhart.

Harry wondered who these 'targets of interest' might be...most likely his father and a select few close confidants of his, such as Sirius. At least he could rest easy knowing that more people would not be invaded, like Amelia Bones, who so far had evaded Lockhart's grasp due to her pregnancy.

Voldemort looked far more agitated and disappointed with his followers than he had to begin the meeting. "Now, if there's nothing else, I will be returning home for the evening," he said.

"Wait!" interjected Amycus Carrow. "There is somethin' else we gotta discuss!"

Voldemort looked irked by the interruption, but he paused to look back at the man. "And what would that be?" he asked coolly.

"There's summat suspicious goin' on at Hogwarts," Amycus said. "I can't prove nothin', but methinks there's a student rebellion group forming."

That certainly got Voldemort's attention, eyes narrowing at this news. "Is that so?" he asked dangerously.

"We found some flyers months ago, advertising a secret dueling group!" Alecto added eagerly. "They been more careful lately, but they're still meetin' in private, I'm sure of it!"

"I have seen no evidence of such a group existing," said Harry quickly. "There is dissent, yes, but only whispered between students, not organized resistance."

"As if they'd tell you about it, Potter!" Amycus scoffed. "Besides, the kids all know you're as soft as they come. You barely give more than a slap on the wrist for their crimes!"

"Yeah, well, at least I don't use Unforgivables on second-years," Harry growled. Unfortunately, Voldemort did not seem concerned by this past slight at the moment; he was glaring quite directly at Harry.

"I placed you at Hogwarts for a simple task, Harry," he said calmly, though his voice was laced with danger. "You were to set an example for students and put a stop to any deviations from the status quo. We mustn't have future generations thinking they can defy orders without proper punishment."

"Understood," Harry nodded. "I have been running detentions for dozens of students per week."

"Yer only makin' em write damned lines!" Amycus protested. "That ain't gonna stop 'em from actin' out!"

"Are you incapable of keeping your fellow students in line, Harry?" Voldemort demanded. "Shall I strip you of your Head Boy duties and give them to someone who can, like our dear Draco here?" Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not wishing to be put in such a position himself.

"I can do it, my Lord," Harry said quickly. "I will make sure no more comes of this."

"It had better not," said Voldemort. "Open rebellion will not be tolerated in my regime, and swift punishment will come to those who perpetrate – or enable – it. That goes for all of you." He rounded on the Carrows as he said this; while previously they had been smirking gleefully in Harry's direction, they lowered their heads reverentially under his glare.

"I expect better of all of you in the future," he said bitterly to the entire room. "Perform your duties without incident, or I will find others to do it in your place." And he swept from the room, the door automatically swinging shut behind him, causing the room to devolve into hushed murmurs as the meeting disbanded.

"You heard 'im, Potter," Alecto sneered. "Get yer act together, or else."

"Enough," Snape said sternly as he stood from the table. "We are all on the same side here, and pointing fingers is counter-productive. Do as the Dark Lord bade us, and keep your petty squabbles to yourselves."

The Carrows glared once more at Harry before standing to follow Snape from the room. Harry waited a few moments before following them, not wishing to continue the conversation elsewhere. The last thing he needed was them gloating to his face and claiming some shallow victory over this outcome.

Unfortunately, he knew that they were right. He was being too soft on the students, and had developed a reputation as a lenient disciplinarian. With him in charge of punishment in the castle, there was virtually nothing stopping students from pushing back against their oppressors. He had to start putting his foot down more and concocting harsher punishments to deter them.

His first opportunity came the following evening, as he had to conduct a detention for a dozen students across different Houses and years. They met him at the usual spot, an empty classroom on the second floor, quills already out in anticipation of writing lines. "Quills away," said Harry as he entered the room. "Follow me." Confused, the students packed their things and glanced at one another before following Harry from the room and down the hall.

They arrived at the Grand Staircase, with its multi-level flights of stairs ever-shifting and twisting around and over one another. "The stairs have not been cleaned in a while," Harry announced. "In fact, someone recently left a large mess that needs cleaning up."

"What mess?" demanded a fifth-year Hufflepuff.

Harry drew his wand and aimed it at the nearest stairwell. A sticky, viscous liquid spewed from the wand, splattering all over the stairwell and even dripping down to the stairwell below. Harry then conjured several buckets and mops and turned back to the students.

"Get to cleaning," he ordered.

"But...but there's so much!" protested a third-year Gryffindor, eyes wide at the oozing liquid, which was now emitting a foul odor.

"Then you'd best get started," said Harry firmly. "And no magic."

The students grumbled loudly, but they grabbed their supplies and set to work. The liquid Harry had conjured was thick and sticky, and occasionally it bubbled up and spewed even more liquid everywhere, including all over the robes of the students. For the next three miserable hours, students scrubbed relentlessly against the stone steps, accomplishing very little other than forming blisters on their hands.

At the end of the three hours, Harry gathered them all together to assess the damage. Not even half of the liquid had been cleaned up, and the students looked thoroughly dispirited and exhausted from the effort. "Shame," said Harry. "I guess we'll just have to pick this up next week." And he twirled his wand, instantly Vanishing the liquid from the stairs.

"But that's not fair!" complained a young Ravenclaw girl. "You could've done that to begin with!"

"And you could have not talked back to Professor Carrow in Muggle Studies yesterday, Miss Dorsett," Harry admonished her. "You're all dismissed. And I suggest you stay out of trouble in the future, or your next task will be twice as difficult."

The students began to disperse for their common rooms, still soaked in the stinking liquid. Harry drew many rueful looks of disdain, but he didn't care. They could hate him if they wanted...as long as they kept the peace, he didn't care if they saw him as the second coming of Voldemort. In fact, they probably already did.

January faded into February, bringing with it fresh snows and frigid temperatures. The frosty atmosphere was reflected in the students, miserable and defeated, going about their days with little fanfare. The joyous laughter and spirited conversations that usually accompanied meals in the Great Hall were absent, replaced by hushed conversations and fearful glances up at the Head Table. Fear ruled the castle now, with nobody willing to stick their necks out and risk further punishment.

It's working, Harry thought to himself. The next detention he conducted comprised half the number of students, and the one after that even fewer. He felt badly for coming down on them with harsher punishments, but it was necessary to keep them in line. He was beginning to feel optimistic that he could balance his duties at the school with his mission outside of it, all without attracting the wrong kind of attention from Voldemort and his ilk.

That optimism was tested soon after, as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast to the sound of animated conversation – a rarity these days. Students were huddled over their House tables, having heated discussions over some text Harry could not quite see. At first he thought it was an article in The Daily Prophet, but that morning's delivery of the paper had not happened yet. What was going on?

"Is it true, Potter?" a voice demanded from nearby. Terry Boot was waving something at him from the Ravenclaw Table. "Afraid your secrets are being exposed?"

Harry marched over to him and snatched the object from his hands. It was a magazine – more specifically, The Quibbler, Xenophilius Lovegood's publication. Harry flipped to the cover, half-expecting to see some crackpot headline about house-elf inbreeding or some other nonsense. Instead, he saw a photograph of his own father speaking at a public event, with a crudely-drawn hooded figure standing behind him, hand on James' shoulder, its glowing red eyes peeking out through the darkness. The headline read:

'THE SHADOW MINISTER: UNCOVERING JAMES POTTER'S POSSIBLE CONNECTION TO YOU-KNOW-WHO'

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. Luna had told him her father was working on a big story...he had no idea it concerned his father. He took the magazine with him up to his seat, ignoring Terry's cries of indignation as he sat beside Daphne. He flipped open the cover and began to read the accompanying article by Xenophilius himself:

"This month's edition of The Quibbler is a break from our usual content, covering the ongoing Latvian Mooncalf genocide. We, like many other British citizens, are concerned about the recent direction our Ministry has taken, with its ever-more aggressive social policies and apparent silencing of critics. The Daily Prophet has offered little in the way of explanation for this shift, other than Minister Potter's supposed revenge tactics against his Muggle-born ex-wife, Lily Evans, for running off with his childhood rival.

But what if there was a more sinister reason for the Minister's change of heart? As someone who knew the Potter family intimately prior to James' ascent to power, I can attest to his hatred of dark magic and commitment to uplifting marginalized voices. His recent actions have suggested the exact opposite, a change that cannot be simply attributed to petty jealousy of a former rival. There must be more to the story than the Ministry has told us.

I have spent the past few months accruing evidence to explain the sudden change in Minister Potter's actions. There is far too much coincidence surrounding the shift, coming shortly after You-Know-Who's return and Albus Dumbledore's death. It led me to dig deeper into the aftermath of the Battle of London and challenge the official story we were all told by the Prophet in its wake. And it led me to a simple, but horrifying, conclusion.

The Dark Lord was not defeated in the Battle of London. He was the victor, and subsequently made Minister Potter his puppet to disguise his ascent to absolute power in Britain.

This may be a shocking and unbelievable concept to many of you, but it explains all of the Minister's recent actions. He did not target Muggle-borns or enact pure-blood marriage laws for his own reasons...he was forced to do so by You-Know-Who against his will. Either via Imperius Curse or through simple blackmail and threats of violence against his family, the Dark Lord has bent James Potter to his will and made him a de facto puppet to do his bidding.

In this edition, we will examine all of the evidence pointing to this conclusion. We will also dig deeper into other potential cover-ups the Ministry is complicit in, such as the death of Albus Dumbledore and the disappearance of Amos Diggory (who has not been seen since his arrest three months ago). We'll also explore the rumors surrounding the 'Boy-Who-Lived', Neville Longbottom, and his relationship with the Potter family before, during, and after their falling-out.

Mostly, we hope this edition will cause more people to ask questions of their government and those who report on it. Who is truly in charge here? What is the future of this great nation? Why are we forced to mourn a man like Barty Crouch Jr., a convicted Death Eater if you've forgotten, while smearing the reputation of great men like Albus Dumbledore? If Britain is truly on the path to ruin, I for one will not let it die in silence."

Harry set the magazine down, deep in thought. The Quibbler was not a commonly-read magazine for the most part, but right now, students were clamoring to borrow copies and read the article for themselves. Xenophilius may have a reputation as a conspiracy theorist, but he'd done a lot to rehabilitate his image a few years back thanks to his interviews with Harry during the Triwizard Tournament, and clearly commanded enough credibility to warrant this much attention.

Harry read through the rest of the edition throughout the morning in between lessons, which comprised pages and pages of speculation about the past few months' events. Xenophilius had done his homework, backing up his claims with carefully-researched evidence, and even his 'educated guesses' were eerily close to the truth. The question was, would anybody take him seriously? Would his reputation prevent the truth from resonating with his readership?

Based on the reaction among students in the castle, that did not seem to be an issue. The discussions persisted throughout lunch, and all through the afternoon as the day dragged on. Harry saw the magazine in nearly every corridor he walked down, as students openly speculated upon its veracity. It apparently got so prolific that multiple teachers, including the Carrows, forced their classes to turn over any copies of the mag that might be in student circulation.

The Headmaster also addressed the development at dinner that evening. "From now on, The Quibbler is no longer permitted reading material on school grounds," Snape announced to the students. "The publication is unreliable and full of malicious lies designed to slander our great Minister. Anyone caught in possession of the magazine shall be subjected to heavy punishment."

There was little reaction among the students, who all stared defiantly up at Snape. Harry groaned internally, knowing that his words would only stoke the flames and help confirm the truth of the matter for students. The words of Armando Dippet just a few weeks earlier echoed in his mind: 'The quickest way to make a student do something is to tell them not to do it.'

Indeed, Harry knew the article was still being discussed and circulated among the student population. But the students were getting smarter, Charming their copies to appear like copies of the Prophet or random homework assignments when confronted by staff in the coming days. Harry noticed an uptick in dirty glances his way, as students' suspicions of his status of a Death Eater seemed to now be confirmed in their minds.

Worse yet, the students' rebellious attitudes seemed to have returned in full force, inspired by the article's call to action. There was a considerable uptick in detentions again, with more and more students getting caught with the magazine or talking back to their professors. Harry tried to come up with ever-more draconian punishments for them, but nothing seemed to break their spirit. If anything, his attempts to quell their fire only seemed to fan the flames.

Harry knew Xenophilius had pure intentions with his article and sought to reclaim the Britain that had fallen after the battle. But ironically, it only served to threaten the hard work Harry had put in to do the same. He could feel his control over the school slipping day by day, as more and more students became convinced of Voldemort's involvement and lashed out against their oppressors. He could hardly blame them – he would do the same in their shoes – but they did not realize the threat they posed to him accomplishing all he had worked for.

Harry also knew this posed a danger to Luna, who, ironically enough, seemed to be the only person in the castle unaffected by the story. She was her usual aloof, happy-go-lucky self, despite the fact that her peers seemed to regard her father as some kind of folk hero. She continued to spend much of her time alone with Grindelwald, a fact that Harry hated but knew she did not want him to interfere with. And Grindelwald might not even be the biggest threat to her well-being anymore...if Xenophilius continued to thumb his nose at Voldemort, it might put a target on his daughter's back in an effort to silence him. That worried Harry as much as any other fallout from the article.

Just let the story die out, Harry told himself. Don't react and don't lash out. People will get bored and move onto something else eventually. Surely the school rumor mill would overpower this development eventually, or the students would become convinced that Xenophilius actually didn't know what he was talking about. With luck, the article would be forgotten by the end of the month, and nothing more would come of it.

But luck was rarely on Harry's side these days.

It started as a typical Thursday. Harry went for his usual run at sunrise before attending his morning Ancient Runes and Astronomy lessons. After a free period spent studying in the library, he sat through a typically boring Binns lecture in History of Magic, already thinking ahead to his next planning session to pick a new target for assassination.

Then, off in the distance, a series of bangs and cracks echoed down the halls, causing every student in the room to suddenly perk up in alarm. Professor Binns did not seem to notice, continuing to drone on as the distant commotion grew closer and louder in volume.

Is that spellfire? Harry thought in concern, as all around him, other seventh-year students seemed to be wondering the same. He leapt from his seat and rushed out into the hall, as several other students followed close behind.

It didn't take long to find the cause of the commotion, as a sparkling multi-colored firework came careening towards them, shooting off sparks and bursts of flame. It looked remarkably like a Weasley Wizarding Wheezes creation, though no such company existed in this timeline...while normally the sight would have amused Harry, now it filled him with a sense of dread.

The firework launched itself towards the group of curious students, as if locked onto a target. As it did so, a booming voice emitted from it: "MINISTER POTTER IS A PUPPET OF YOU-KNOW-WHO!"

Several students behind Harry flinched, but he stood firm, pointing his wand at the projectile. "Finite," he said calmly. The enchantments on the firework ceased, causing it to fall to the floor and sputter to a stop. But clearly it was not the only offender, as more cracks and bangs could be heard in the distance.

The next fifteen minutes were utter chaos, as Harry ran through the halls tracking down more of the rogue fireworks and neutralizing them. The throngs of screaming students didn't help, as the pyrotechnics seemed to be enchanted to chase down the nearest target and shout pre-programmed phrases at them. Harry spent nearly as much time to shout at them to stop running so that he could catch up and stop their pursuers.

The fireworks seemed to be enchanted to shout inflammatory remarks at maximum volume, many lifted directly from the Quibbler article. "BURN IN HELL, BARTY CROUCH," "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE WAS MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD," "THE CARROWS ARE CHILD PREDATORS," and much more could be heard echoing all throughout the castle. Harry had a sinking feeling he knew who was responsible for this, and could only imagine the fallout that would result.

Finally, with the combined efforts of several teachers and prefects who joined in the hunt, the last firework was extinguished, leaving the halls choked with bewildered students. "Back to your classrooms!" Harry barked, attempting to corral them. But they paid him no mind, buzzing about the ruckus and what might have caused it.

"I got her!" a gleeful voice shouted from around the corner. Harry rushed into the Entrance Hall, where Alecto Carrow was proudly strutting down the steps, holding onto an incensed Ginny Weasley by the ear. "Caught the bitch tryin' to hide the evidence!"

Ginny indeed looked supremely guilty. She was covered from head to toe in dark soot, and she wore a look of defiant pride, as though she regretted nothing. Harry's stomach sank...clearly Ginny had not been deterred in her resistant ways, and had in fact moved into open rebellion.

"Let me have 'er, dear sister," said a gleeful Amycus Carrow as he emerged from down a nearby hallway. "She's my fiancee...I'll straighten 'er out."

"You'll do no such thing," Harry snarled, hurrying forward to wrench Ginny free of Alecto's grasp. "I'll handle this."

"Like hell you will, Potter!" Amycus snapped. "She's good an' guilty this time, and I ain't gonna let her get away with it!"

"What is the meaning of this?" a deep voice demanded. All turned to see Snape emerge in the Hall, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you three manhandling one of my students?"

"We caught 'er, Severus!" Alecto said gleefully. "The Weasley brat is behind this attack! And she's gonna pay!"

"I bet she's the one organizing resistance meetings, too!" Amycus said gleefully. "Ain't that right, Red?" Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but no sound came out, courtesy of Harry's wordless Silencing Charm. Luckily, nobody noticed.

"My office," Snape snarled. "Now." He swept away from the scene; Harry followed with Ginny in tow, glad for the chance to get out of the public eye. This was going to be a tricky situation to navigate without incurring Voldemort's wrath, and he needed time to think of a plan.

"Do not say anything to incriminate yourself," Harry whispered in her ear as he guided her towards Snape's office. "Do not admit to any resistance groups, and do not give up any of your cohorts."

Ginny said nothing, merely shuffling along beside him in silence. Harry wondered what was going through her mind in this moment...she knew her future was in jeopardy, if not her life, for this brazen stunt. Did she even care? Had she given up all hope? Would her hatred of Harry override her self-preservation instincts and cause her to do something even more foolish?

Harry and Ginny entered Snape's office, followed soon after by the Carrows. Harry guided Ginny into one of the armchairs; Amycus immediately drew his wand, summoning thick ropes that bound her tightly to the chair.

"Is that really necessary?" Harry huffed.

"She should get used to it," Amycus grinned evilly. "She'll be spending most of her time in bondage once we're wed." Ginny glared malevolently at him for this crass remark.

Harry contemplated whether to let the ropes remain in place. It was entirely over the top, and would make Ginny more likely to despair and give in, but he also knew he could not be seen to be showing leniency. Fortunately, he would not have to ponder this dilemma for long.

The office door burst open, and Professor McGonagall entered the office, looking furious. "Unhand my student!" she snapped; with a twirl of her wand, the ropes were Vanished, freeing Ginny. "How dare you treat her like this? She is a teenage girl, for Merlin's sake!"

"Keep yer nose out of this one, Minerva," Alecto sneered at her. "You ain't got the authority here; we do."

"I am Ginevra's Head of House," McGonagall said proudly. "I insist on being a part of her disciplinary process."

"She's good and guilty, no if's and's or but's about it," said Amycus. "But yer welcome to stay and watch as we break the bitch."

"Calm yourself, Amycus," Snape drawled before McGonagall could protest. "We can solve this predicament without resorting to common violence."

"Predicament?" Amycus chortled. "What predicament? This is gonna be fun! We caught the ringleader red-handed, and she'll be expelled for it!"

"Let's send 'er to Lucius!" Alecto said excitedly. "He's been itchin' to get revenge on Arthur after years of disrespect...he'd love to loosen her tongue for us!"

"No need to be hasty," Snape said placatingly. "We can solve this amongst ourselves."

"Like 'ell we can!" Amycus spat. "You 'n Potter 'ave done nothin' to stop this! I told ya somethin' like this was bound ta happen!"

"That's right!" Alecto agreed, rolling up her sleeve to reveal her Dark Mark. "Our boss ain't gonna be too pleased when he learns you and Potter couldn' handle yer jobs!" And she hovered her finger over the Mark, prepared to call Voldemort there and then.

"No," said Harry firmly. "The Headmaster is right. If she is expelled, it will draw scrutiny upon us, and our Master will not be pleased that we failed to keep the students in line."

"You mean, that you failed," Amycus said pointedly, jabbing a finger at Harry. "Yer the one that was put in charge, not us!"

"The Dark Lord will not differentiate when this matter is brought to his attention," Snape said firmly. "He cares not what the chain of command is...all of us will be punished equally for failing to stop this. Or have you forgotten what happened after the Department of Mysteries fiasco?"

Amycus and Alecto fell silent at this. Harry did not know what became of the Death Eaters who failed to apprehend Neville in the Ministry two years prior, but based on the Carrows' reaction, they must have all been punished severely.

"What do we do now, then?" Alecto demanded. "She can't get away with this!"

"She won't," said Harry firmly, before Snape could respond. "She will be punished for her actions."

"Save it, Potter," Amycus sneered. "Yer not gonna get through to her by makin' her scrub toilets. She 'as to learn somehow."

"She will learn, alright," said Harry. "And not in detention. Her punishment will be handled publicly, so that nobody questions what will happen to trouble-makers in the future."

Both of the Carrows eyed him curiously at this remark. "Publicly?" Alecto repeated. "What d'ya mean?"

"The time for leniency is over," said Harry, looking at Ginny. "Miss Weasley had her chance to atone, and she did not take it. Now, she will suffer the consequences. And they will be severe."

A chilling silence met these words. Ginny looked fearful at what this might mean. The Carrows, for their part, looked mildly surprised by his words, if not outright excited.

"What're you gonna do to her?" asked Amycus.

"Something she'll remember for the rest of her life," Harry said in a dire tone. "We'll do it in the Great Hall, while the whole school watches. Then, if she still hasn't learned her lesson, we'll give her to Lucius Malfoy and let him deal with her."

Devious grins crossed both of the Carrows' features. Professor McGonagall looked appalled by whatever Harry was suggesting.

"If you intend to hurt this girl," she said in a trembling voice, "it shall be the last thing you ever do, Potter."

"Mind your words, Minerva," Snape chided her. "Do not forget your place. I suggest you go and gather the students in the Great Hall. Now."

McGonagall gave Snape a look of such deep loathing and hatred that it send shivers down Harry's spine. She swept from the room, followed soon after by the Carrows, leaving Snape and Harry alone with Ginny.

"What are your intentions, Potter?" Snape asked him directly.

"To send a message," Harry said simply. And he grabbed Ginny roughly by the arm, guiding her down the stairs towards the Great Hall.

In truth, Harry did not know what he was going to do yet. He knew he had to concoct something to satisfy the Carrows and prevent Voldemort from being summoned. But what would satiate their bloodlust? He did not want to harm Ginny, but knew that pulling his proverbial punches would not suffice. He had to make it clear to the students that he meant business, or his position as their disciplinarian would be threatened by someone far worse.

Half an hour later, Harry stood at the head of the Great Hall, still clutching Ginny by the arm. The House tables had been cleared away, and the entire student body stood before them, buzzing with nervous energy. They did not know what was about to happen, but knew it could be nothing good. Eventually, Snape raised a hand for quiet, and all eyes turned to Ginny, wondering what might become of their rebel hero.

"Miss Weasley has been found guilty of today's firework incident," Harry announced to the gathered students. "After much deliberation, we have determined that she will not be expelled for her infraction."

Many students exchanged looks of surprise at this news. Harry even saw some wry smiles among the older students...they were likely celebrating Harry's proclivity for light punishments. But they would not be doing so for long.

"Instead," Harry continued, "she will be punished here, with you all as witnesses. Nobody will be permitted to intervene until her punishment concludes. And anybody who attempts to repeat what she has done today will meet the same fate."

That wiped all the grins off of students' faces as they contemplated what this might mean. The Carrows watched on with thinly-veiled excitement, as if anticipating what Harry had in mind.

Harry roughly forced Ginny to her knees, then summoned cords to suspend her arms over her head from the ceiling. He conjured a long, thin object made of dark leather, examining it in his hands. Most of the pure-blood students frowned in confusion at the foreign object, but those with Muggle relatives gasped in horror once they realized what it was: a whip.

Harry twirled the whip over his head and gave it a test snap against a blank stretch of wall. It snapped outward, smacking the wall with a loud CRACK. Everyone flinched at the surprisingly loud sound, murmuring in alarm.

"No!" McGonagall moaned in dismay, as the Carrows' devious grins grew wider as they realized the nature of the device. Even Ginny, who had worn nothing but a look of casual disdain for the past hour, looked horrified.

Harry locked eyes with Snape before proceeding. The Headmaster's normally stoic face was etched with hard lines, indicating his displeasure with the situation. He eyed Harry suspiciously, as though wondering whether he was serious. But, after a moment's silence, he reluctantly nodded his consent.

"You mustn't!" Lavender Brown wailed. "She's only a girl!"

"This won't kill her," Harry said coldly. "It is temporary pain. Compared to the dementors of Azkaban, she should consider herself lucky."

The Hall was deathly silent as Harry took his position behind Ginny. Her back was now turned to him, but he could see her shoulders trembling with fear. He knew how horrifying this would seem to everybody involved. Only he knew about the Cushioning Charms he'd inlaid into the tip of the whip, softening each blow to prevent the worst of the physical damage. He was taking a great risk with this charade, and it would entirely depend on Ginny playing along. He hoped she was as good an actor as she was a rebel leader.

Harry twirled the whip over his head and unleashed it at Ginny. CRACK. It connected with her back, causing the students to gasp in shock. Ginny's body shuddered from the blow, though she made no noise. Was she wondering why there was no pain? Had she connected the dots in her head yet?

CRACK. Another blow landed, causing her to shudder again, but still no sound emanated from her lips. "You'll receive no bonus points for your silence, Miss Weasley," Harry said in a taunting tone. "The exercise will not end until I am certain you've learned your lesson." Ginny said nothing in response...was she starting to pick up on the hints he was giving her to play along?

"But she's still got those darned school robes on!" Amycus complained. "It's softening the blow! We can't be havin' that!"

Before Harry could protest, Amycus walked forward and yanked Ginny's school robes over her head. Now she was left in just a thin t-shirt and shorts, suddenly looking quite small and vulnerable. Harry groaned internally...it would be much more difficult for him to hide his deception in such exposed conditions.

"Just leave 'er breathing is all I ask," Amycus whispered excitedly to Harry as he walked past. "As long as she's conscious on our wedding night, I ain't complainin'."

Harry did his best to ignore this crass comment as he resumed his stance. He twirled the whip overhead before unleashing it again. CRACK! This time he added a mild Stinging Charm to the tip of the whip, causing Ginny to yelp in surprise from the blow.

"Little birdie can sing!" Alecto cackled. "Let 'er have it, Potter!"

CRACK! Ginny once again gave a low groan from the blow, a bit louder than the last. She glanced over her shoulder at Harry, a look of confusion on her face. Was she finally processing what he wanted from her?

"Louder, Weasley!" Harry shouted. "So the whole castle can hear you!"

CRACK! This time Ginny gave a loud wail of pain, even though Harry hadn't even used a Stinging Charm this time. She seemed to be catching on now, even leaning forward and breathing more heavily to sell the charade. Harry prayed that it looked convincing enough.

So far, it seemed to be. The Carrows were practically salivating with excitement, while the gathered students and staff looked appalled. McGonagall appeared to be on the verge of sacrificing her career and smiting Harry where he stood. Only Snape looked pensive, watching Harry curiously as though suspecting some kind of trick. Similarly, Dahlia watched on from the crowd with a troubled expression, clearly knowing Harry would never stoop to such brute violence but also unsure of the greater plan.

CRACK! Harry added a Soaking Charm to the whip to cause the back of Ginny's t-shirt to pool with red liquid, simulating blood. Ginny gave another groan of pain, selling the illusion even more.

"You're hurting her!" a second-year girl whimpered, before she was swiftly hushed by her classmates. The students were afraid. And as much as Harry hated it, that was exactly what he needed them to be. He had to put a stop to all of the rebellion. He had to commit a lesser evil to prevent the Carrows from unleashing their personal brand of sadism upon the Hogwarts populace.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Blow after blow rained down on Ginny's back, as only her pained whimpers filled the tense silence in the Hall. Despite the charms on the whip, the physical blows nonetheless took their toll on Ginny, who was now slumped over, held up only by the cords suspending her above the ground. Her breathing became more labored now, real sweat dripping to the stone floor along with the fake blood Harry kept applying to her back.

Just a bit longer, Ginny, Harry silently pleaded with her. It'll be over soon.

"Have you learned your lesson yet, Miss Weasley?" Harry demanded after another CRACK rent the air.

"Yes," Ginny panted weakly.

"I can't hear you!" Harry bellowed. In came another CRACK, this time with a mild Shocking Charm applied to it. Ginny's entire body spasmed from the blow, and she unleashed a genuine, primal scream that caused everyone to jump.

"Yes!" Ginny muttered hoarsely. "I've learned my lesson, Merlin, I swear it!"

"Please, enough of this!" McGonagall trembled. Her wand was in hand now, and Harry genuinely feared she would try and intervene this time. He did not want to start a fight that would only end in McGonagall being fired and replaced by someone far worse. So he unleashed the whip one final time with a CRACK; Ginny gave one final shudder and slumped over unconscious, courtesy of the Stunner Harry added to the final blow.

Harry Vanished the cords holding up Ginny's wrists, causing her to slump to the floor in a heap. Quiet sniffles filled the silence now as the entire Hall looked down upon her, fake blood pooling around her. Dahlia rushed forward to tend to her, Summoning a stretcher to transport her to the Hospital Wing straight away.

"Keep her there for a week at minimum," Harry whispered in her ear as she passed by. Dahlia looked confused by the message, but said nothing...she would quickly discover the ruse as Ginny's injuries would not be nearly as severe as they seemed. Harry trusted her and Pomfrey to keep it a secret from the others, along with Ginny, of course.

"Miss Weasley is to receive no visitors while she recovers," Harry announced loudly to the room. "There are to be no demonstrations or shows of support for her, and no further student gatherings without staff approval. If anyone else is caught performing a stunt like she pulled today, they will receive the same treatment, if not worse."

With that dire message, Harry strode away from the Hall towards the exit. As soon as he crossed into the Entrance Hall, he heard the room behind him erupt in furious gossip at what had just transpired. He knew he had just become the most hated person in Hogwarts, more than even the Carrows, for his brutal display.

Harry hurried back to his dorm and shut himself in the bathroom, collapsing to the floor at once. He began to hyperventilate, panic overwhelming him as the weight of what he had done came crashing down all at once. He may not have harmed Ginny physically, but he'd inflicted severe psychological damage on her and every student, using fear and humiliation as a control tactic. Something he didn't think he was capable of.

I'm a monster, Harry thought miserably. I've taken it too far this time. There's no coming back from this.

But then Fleur's words came back to him, from the aftermath of Crouch and Winky's deaths. "A monster feels no remorse for his own actions...you will never be a monster so long as you always have a conscience." These words allowed him to gradually come down from his panic, giving way to quiet weeping as he lamented what could have been.

His reputation would never recover from this. His peers would always hate him now, no matter what the outcome of the war was. If Harry somehow survived all of this, he would be forced to reckon with his actions one way or another. In fact, he wondered if it might be best if he were to die after all.

But his loved ones still needed him. And Voldemort was still the greater evil needing to be dealt with. So Harry would continue the course and bear it for the sake of winning the war. He would see this through to the end and ensure the Dark Lord's destruction – even if it meant destroying himself in the process.