Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (MOD Novelization)

16

Harry turned away from the elevator doors, the folded Daily Prophet still clenched tightly in his hand. His eyes were distant. Beside him, Delphi stood deep in thought, mulling over the heated exchange she had just witnessed.

"Will someone explain this ludicrous fascination with Voldemort coming back from the dead?" Harry exclaimed, his voice edged with exasperation.

Delphi looked up, her dark eyes meeting his. "Harry, once the Daily Prophet releases the story..."

"I know," he sighed wearily. "Mayhem to the nth degree."

"We'll need to do a goodwill tour — traveling to wizarding villages — speaking to the people directly, like what you just did," she suggested earnestly.

Harry dismissed the thought. "That's Percy's domain. I'm no politician."

"They'll need someone to calm their nerves and assure them that the story is false," Delphi pressed gently. "Someone they already trust and admire."

A thoughtful silence fell between them as Harry considered her idea. The distant hum of conversations and the fluttering of inter-departmental memos overhead seemed to fade as a separate plan began to form.

"Gather every Auror who is not already on assignment," he instructed, with newfound resolve. "Have them track down Finch-Fletchley. After that, I need them flying, searching, talking to those who know secrets, following those who won't reveal secrets. Something about this feels wrong."

"Harry, can I ask..." Delphi hesitated. "How can you be so certain that Voldemort hasn't returned?"

He met her eyes with an easy, steady look. "I'll explain everything soon. You should know the whole truth if you're to become my second in command."

"Really?" she answered, her eyes going wide with surprise. "But I only just... I mean, I'm grateful..."

"I need people I can rely on, now more than ever," he said firmly. "And you're too valuable to be off in the field."

Before Delphi could respond, Ron and Hermione approached through the crowd. Hermione was clutching a large, ancient-looking book to her chest. Harry cast a longing glance at the shuttering golden grilles, wishing for his own swift escape.

"And if we locate Finch-Fletchley?" Delphi prompted.

"Tell him to keep quiet about this," Harry replied tersely. "If he refuses to listen, deliver him to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I can't have someone the Minister finds credible spreading falsehoods and fomenting panic."

"Harry, they won't admit him without cause," she cautioned.

"You heard Percy—the man is still suffering from the Basilisk attack. Creature-Induced Injuries. St. Mungo's—First floor."

"So, don't bring him in?" Delphi clarified.

"No, I haven't time in my schedule to question anyone," he said curtly.

Delphi hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. "Then who's that old man in the interrogation room?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "There's someone in the interrogation room?"

"That's what we wanted to talk with you about, Harry," Hermione interjected, stepping forward.

"Not interrupting, I hope," Ron added slowly, his gaze flickering between Harry and Delphi.

"Nothing of the sort," Harry assured him.

Ron gave Delphi a sharp look, causing Harry to clear his throat awkwardly. Sensing the tension, Delphi looked away, careful to keep her expression blank.