Ministry
Kreacher was looking after the Gryffindor trio while they stayed at Grimmauld Place. He was treating them very well, even preparing elaborate meals. He proudly wore the locket around his neck and when he saw Cassiopeia's, he held his own fascinated, a broad smile on his face.
Speaking of house-elves, Tinky, her mother's personal elf, was appearing more frequently to bring news. Cassi was certain that Noctua was plotting something, but couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.
Draco was becoming braver during the meetings with the Death Eaters. The hatred they both felt for Voldemort and the eagerness to protect their family gave them strength.
Snape was confirmed as the headmaster of Hogwarts, causing true chaos. But Cassiopeia was glad her fellow students had a secret agent from the Order to prevent atrocities from the Death Eaters who had also become teachers.
One wonders what they would be teaching the poor children.
(...)
Cassiopeia was gathering information at the moment. Specifically, she was documenting the entire layout of the Ministry. She was the youngest junior assistant to the Head of the Department of Magical Protections, and to her misfortune, her boss was also the leader of the investigation and hunt for Muggles. She spent most of her time taking notes to deliver to the Gryffindor trio. They were planning to infiltrate the Ministry, and although she disagreed with it, it was inevitable. She hardly ever saw Umbridge, and when she caught brief glimpses of the woman, she was always accompanied. It seemed foolish to assume that Umbridge would leave the locket in her office.
But Cassi tried nonetheless. It wasn't easy, the thing had Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye on the door, a blatant violation of the deceased and a measure to keep the department under close surveillance.
She needed a lot of courage to use one of Fred and George's gadgets that filled the room with thick black smoke.
Cassi hurried to the drawers and muttered, "Accio Locket." Nothing happened. "As if she would let go of this piece of rubbish so easily," she muttered in frustration. When she opened the first drawer, Cassi sighed in shock. There was a list of enemies. All the members of the Order were on it. At least all the known members.
Fucking PinkToad... How does she know?
Cassi searched for herself and her mother, but neither of them was on any of the files. She breathed a sigh of relief. They don't know, calm down, they don't know. She scrutinized the files before putting them back in the drawer and leaving as quickly as she had entered. Marching to her boss's office as if nothing had happened.
(...)
It wasn't easy to maintain her role as a junior assistant, being trained by Bellatrix, learning spells on her own, and planning an infiltration against the establishment. But there she was, piling up tasks just like her time at Hogwarts. Thank you, Aunt Minnie, for the Time-Turner.
She used it less frequently for now; it would be good to avoid wrinkles before their time. Merlin's beard, maybe she really is Walburga's granddaughter.
(...)
Cassiopeia nervously awaited her boss: Runcorn, Mafalda, assistant in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, and Reg Cattermole from Maintenance. In reality, it would be Harry, Hermione, and Ron disguised with Polyjuice Potion.
She had been following them for weeks and memorized their routines. Tedious and boring, they did everything exactly the same way.
Analyzing the pattern had been easy. But now she was more nervous than ever.
What if they failed? What if they were caught? What if someone noticed the difference?
Before she could have a nervous breakdown, she saw her boss's untidy hair emerge from the fireplace.
A scowl that could only belong to Harry. She finally allowed herself to breathe properly.
She approached quickly, just as she normally would. "Good morning, sir. Here is your schedule," she said politely with a mechanical smile. Harry looked at her with wide eyes. His lip curled slightly, but he composed himself.
"Excellent work, Mrs. Gaunt. Your godfather would be proud," he said. Cassi felt the urge to punch him.
Hermione and Ron joined them awkwardly. They couldn't have looked more nervous. May Merlin protect them.
"You both understand everything, right?" she whispered to the trio.
"Not yet, Harry's still stuck in the crap," Ron said.
"Oh, very funny..." Cassi sighed. "What do they expect by forcing us to arrive here through the plumbing? That Harry Potter breaks into the Ministry?" She mocked with a nose twitch.
Ron let out a little chuckle but quickly covered it with a cough. "It's horrible, isn't it?" he commented to Hermione as he noticed her studying the statue carried by Muggles – hundreds of naked bodies, men, women, and children, all with idiotic and ugly expressions, twisted and contorted to support the wizards in their fine robes...
The inscription read, "Magic is Might." They joined the flow of witches and wizards heading towards the golden gates at the end of the hall. Passing through the gates, they entered a lobby where queues formed in front of twenty golden gates that enclosed an equal number of elevators.
They had just entered the nearest one when a voice called out, "Cattermole!" Yaxley bellowed.
"Morning, Yaxley!" Cassi forced a fake smile, hoping that Ron would catch on to whom she was addressing.
"Good day, Lady Gaunt, looking gorgeous," Yaxley responded with a gallant smile in a rather awkward attempt at flirting. She felt like she might throw up.
"I requested someone from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole. It's still raining in there." He said irritably, turning to Ron.
He looked around as if expecting someone else to intervene, but no one spoke. "Raining... in your office? Tried an umbrella?" He nervously chuckled.
Yaxley's eyes widened. "You find this amusing, Cattermole?" Two witches left the elevator queue and scurried away in fear.
"No," Ron replied, "Of course not..."
"Do you realize that I'm heading down to interrogate your wife, Cattermole? In fact, I'm quite surprised you're not down there holding her hand while waiting. Gave up on helping her, did you? Convinced it's not worth it? You're probably right. Next time, make sure you're marrying someone of pure blood. Hermione let out a horrified gasp.
Yaxley turned his attention to her. She coughed softly and stepped back. Cassiopeia pretended to step on her foot and whispered quietly, "Sorry."
Yaxley turned back to Ron. "I, I..." he stammered nervously.
"But if my wife were accused of having impure blood," Yaxley continued, "Not that any woman I've married could be mistaken for that rabble, and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a service, I would prioritize that service, Cattermole. Do you understand?"
"I do."
"Then see to it, Cattermole. And if my office isn't completely dry within an hour, your wife's Blood Status Registry will be under even more scrutiny than it already is." The golden gate before them opened with a loud clang.
With a nod of his head and a smug smile at Cassiopeia, whom he clearly expected to appreciate the treatment of Cattermole, Yaxley exited grandly towards another elevator. The group entered the awaiting elevator, but no one joined them; it was as if they had a contagious disease. The gates closed with a metallic sound, and the elevator began to ascend.
"What am I going to do?" Ron immediately asked the other two, looking completely helpless. "My wife is in danger..."
"Ron, you're not married," Harry explained exasperatedly.
"Oh... right," he nervously sighed.
"Try Finite Incantatem," Cassi whispered softly. "That should stop the rain if it's a spell; if it doesn't stop, then it's likely a malfunction in Atmospheric Charms, which will be harder to fix. Then, try 'Impervius' to temporarily shield his belongings... If none of those work, try Meteolojinx Recanto. It worked last time."
"Say that again, slowly," Ron said desperately, searching his pockets for a quill, but at that moment, the elevator jolted to a stop.
An ethereal female voice announced, "Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, including the Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions. Goblin Liaison Office. Pest Advisory Bureau." The gates reopened, and two wizards and several pale-lilac paper airplanes entered, fluttering around the light on the elevator's ceiling.
"Morning, Albert," Urion from the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures greeted Cassiopeia with a nod. He glanced at all of them as the elevator resumed its creaking ascent. Now Hermione was whispering frantically, giving Ron instructions.
The wizard bowed to Harry with a sly look and whispered, "Dirk Cresswell, huh? From the Goblin Liaison Office? A good division, Albert. Now I'm sure I'll get his job!" The wizard winked at Cassiopeia, and she gave him a polite smile. Harry forced a smile back, looking rather strained.
The elevator stopped, and the gates opened. "Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services," the ethereal voice announced.
Cassiopeia discreetly nudged Ron, and he quickly exited the elevator, followed by other witches and wizards, leaving the three of them alone. As the golden door closed, Hermione quickly said, "I think I should go after him. I don't think Ron knows what he's doing, and if he gets caught, the whole plan..."
"Level One. Minister of Magic and Support Staff," the golden gates reopened, and Hermione gasped. They saw four wizards ahead of them, two engrossed in conversation; the new puppet Minister for Voldemort and a squat, toad-like witch in pink robes, clutching a clipboard to her chest.
Umbridge.
"Oh, Mafalda!" Umbridge exclaimed, looking at Hermione. "Sent by Travers, were you?"
"Y-yes," Hermione squeaked. "Good, you'll do nicely." Umbridge addressed the wizard in black and gold.
"That matter is settled, Minister. If Mafalda can be spared to take minutes for the session, we can begin immediately." She consulted her clipboard. "Ten cases today, and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee! Tsk, tsk... even here, in the heart of the Ministry." Umbridge stepped into the elevator with Hermione, and the two wizards who had been listening to her conversation with the Minister followed suit.
"Straight down, Mafalda, you'll find everything you need in the court." When the elevator doors closed, Cassi discreetly pushed Harry out.
He hurriedly left the elevator with a clumsy wave. Looking over her shoulder, they watched as Hermione's anxious face disappeared from view, flanked by a tall wizard on either side.
Umbridge followed behind. Poor Hermione. Cassiopeia grabbed Harry's arm, guiding him through the corridors. Some people looked terrified, and rightfully so – their boss was a tyrant. Harry scowled at some pamphlets of pure-blood propaganda. Honestly, if they were lucky, at least a third of the wizarding population wouldn't be racist within two years. And by then, they wouldn't have killed everyone.
Cassi waited for the Minister to leave the floor before pulling Harry back into the elevator. When the doors closed, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's not in her office. I tried already," she nervously sighed. "That pink toad must be wearing it. I have a feeling." The doors opened again, and Ron entered, soaked from head to toe.
"Blimey, if Cassi weren't with you, I wouldn't have recognized you, mate," he mumbled, looking tired.
"Did the spell work?" Cassi asked sympathetically.
"The last one did. Thanks for that," Ron nodded. "Where's Hermione?" he asked, finally noticing her absence.
"She had to go with Umbridge, didn't have a choice," Harry muttered nervously.
"We've got to rescue her," Ron whispered urgently.
"That's what we're trying to do, mate. Let's check if Umbridge has the locket." Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. When the doors reopened, they disembarked with a shiver, spotting the black door that marked the entrance to the Department of Mysteries in the distance.
They headed towards the courtroom chamber. Umbridge was questioning the maintenance man's wife, the one Ron had taken the form of.
The woman was terrified, trembling like a leaf. She had dark hair and wore long, simple robes.
Cassiopeia pushed him into the room when the woman looked at Ron pleadingly. "Ah, thank you," Umbridge smiled sweetly. Ron nervously stood next to the 'wife' to offer support.
"Maria Elizabeth Cattermole," Umbridge murmured, grinning. Under her chair were numerous Dementors. The only barrier between them was a magical shield. There, behind a balustrade, sat Umbridge with Yaxley on one side, and Hermione, her face almost as pale as Mrs. Cattermole's, on the other.
At the foot of the platform, a cat-shaped Patronus paced back and forth. Its purpose was probably to protect the prosecutors from the despair emanating from the Dementors; it was meant to affect the accused, not the accusers. Cassi was quite surprised that Umbridge was decent enough to have a Patronus – if it even belonged to her, which she doubted. But then something clicked as she saw the woman's cruel smile.
The Patronus was indeed Umbridge's, shining brightly because the witch was so pleased, right in her element, applying twisted laws she had helped draft. Sadistic wretch. "Are you indeed Maria Elizabeth Cattermole?" Umbridge inquired. The trembling woman nodded once.
"Are you married to Reginald Cattermole from the Magical Maintenance Department?"
Mrs. Cattermole nodded, seeking comfort from Ron's hand on her shoulder. Damn, they should have chosen someone else. "Are you the mother of Maisie, Élia, and Alfredo Cattermole?" The woman sobbed even harder.
"They're terrified, they think I might not come back home..."
"Spare us," Yaxley snapped. "The brats of Mudbloods don't inspire sympathy. They deserve death just like their parents."
Bastard. Cassiopeia fought the urge to curse the man.
"The wand you had in your possession when you arrived at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole, was confiscated," Umbridge continued. "Twenty-two and two-tenths centimeters, cherrywood, unicorn hair core. Do you recognize the description?" Mrs. Cattermole wiped her eyes on her sleeve and nodded.
"Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard you took that wand?"
What nonsense was this?
"I-I took it?" Mrs. Cattermole sobbed. "I d-didn't take it from anyone. I bought it when I was eleven years old. It... it... it chose me." And she cried even harder.
Umbridge let out a soft, childish giggle that made Cassiopeia want to attack her. Apparently, Harry had the same intention, but on the opposite end of the spectrum, he didn't have her restraint. Cassi held his wrist and dug her nails in. He bit his lip to stifle a scream, but he remained still. She discreetly nodded her head.
The meddalion, the meddalion was around Umbridge's neck.
"Madam, you are not a witch. I have the answers to the questionnaire that was sent to you. Mafalda, pass them to me."
"I am a witch!"
Hermione finally noticed the locket too and let out a gasp. However, Umbridge and Yaxley, still focused on the Muggle-born witch, didn't notice. "No," Umbridge retorted. "No, I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches and wizards. As for you, I am your prey." Umbridge extended her small hand.
Hermione's hands trembled in fear as she handed over the parchment without even glancing at the pink toad.
"How lovely, Mrs. Umbridge," Cassiopeia commented, pointing to the shining medallion.
"What?" Umbridge exclaimed abruptly, lowering her eyes. "Oh, yes: an old family heirloom," she said, placing her hand on the locket over her ample bosom. "The 'S' stands for Selwyn... I'm related to the Selwyns... in fact, there are few pure-blood families I'm not related to... such a pity," she continued, her voice growing louder as she flipped through Mrs. Cattermole's questionnaire.
Lying bitch
Cassiopeia nearly shouted out loud.
"We can't say the same about this woman," Yaxley laughed with disdain. Before Cassiopeia could react, Harry raised his wand, without bothering to be discreet, and commanded, "Stupefy!" There was a red flash: Umbridge was disarmed and hit her forehead on the balustrade, the papers from Mrs. Cattermole slipped from her lap to the floor, and underneath, the silver cat vanished. A cold gust of wind swept over them. Yaxley, dazed, looked around, searching for the source of the problem, and saw his coworker attacking. He tried to draw his own wand, but it was too
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