Harry Potter 05 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again …
    ‘If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy …’
    Let the pain stop, thought Harry … let him kill us … end it, Dumbledore … death is nothing compared to this …
    And I’ll see Sirius again …
    And as Harry’s heart filled with emotion, the creature’s coils loosened, the pain was gone; Harry was lying face down on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood …
    And there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been … Harry opened his eyes, saw his glasses lying by the heel of the headless statue that had been guarding him, but which now lay flat on its back, cracked and immobile. He put them on and raised his head a little to find Dumbledore’s crooked nose inches from his own.
    ‘Are you all right, Harry?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Harry, shaking so violently he could not hold his head up properly. ‘Yeah, I’m – where’s Voldemort, where – who are all these – what’s –’
    The Atrium was full of people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin, leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward.
    ‘He was there!’ shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. ‘I saw him, Mr Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!’
    ‘I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!’ gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pyjamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. ‘Merlin’s beard – here – here! – in the Ministry of Magic! – great heavens above – it doesn’t seem possible – my word – how can this be –?’
    ‘If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius,’ said Dumbledore – apparently satisfied that Harry was all right, and walking forwards so that the newcomers realised he was there for the first time (a few of them raised their wands; others simply looked amazed; the statues of the elf and goblin applauded and Fudge jumped so much that his slipper-clad feet left the floor) – ‘you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparition Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them.’
    ‘Dumbledore!’ gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. ‘You – here – I – I –’
    He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, ‘Seize him!’
    ‘Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men – and win, again!’ said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. ‘But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!’
    ‘I – don’t – well –’ blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, ‘Very well – Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see … Dumbledore, you – you will need to tell me exactly – the Fountain of Magical Brethren – what happened?’ he added in a kind of whimper, staring around at the floor, where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard and centaur now lay scattered.
    ‘We can discuss that after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts,’ said Dumbledore.
    ‘Harry – Harry Potter ?’
    Fudge spun round and stared at Harry, who was still standing against the wall beside the fallen statue that had guarded him during Dumbledore and Voldemort’s duel.
    ‘He – here?’ said Fudge. ‘Why – what’s all this about?’
    ‘I shall explain everything,’ repeated Dumbledore, ‘when Harry is back at school.’
    He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard’s head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, ‘ Portus .’ The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.
    ‘Now see here, Dumbledore!’ said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and