The Badger And The Snake; Phan/Harry Potter AU

Twenty-Four: The Ministry.

When they arrived at the Ministry of Magic, it was much more elegant and grand than Dan could have imagined.

"Everything here is gold," whispered Dan, in awe of his surroundings.

Phil giggled. "We Wizard folk don't take gold as seriously as you Muggles do. I mean, our currency is very literally small gold coins."

"Very true. But uh, Phil, do you have any idea where exactly we're supposed to be?"

"The headmistress told us we were supposed to be on Floor 2, room 42 no later than 8am." (Dan was still amazed at Phil's remarkable memory.)

They boarded the elevator, and a short, blonde witch came hurrying in after them just before the doors closed.

"Good morning, boys," she said, her voice airy and kind. She reminded them of Professor Carbonaries and Trelawney put together, but she sounded much more intelligent and sweet.

"Good morning, ma'am," replied Phil.

Of course he would add "ma'am" at the end, the charming little shit, thought Dan, before repeating.

"Where are you two handsome lads heading this fine morning?" They noticed she had large radishes hooked to her ears, like earrings, and a necklace made of bottle caps strung around her neck.

Dan cleared his throat, trying to hide his snicker, but Phil didn't seem even partly amused at the woman's style choices.

"Level Two, ma'am. We're witnesses in Professor McGonagall's trial."

"Are you really? What a small world, I'm filling in for the court reporter, my dear friend Hannah. She was out sick, and I type relatively quickly. That's why I have these," she explained, pointing to her earrings. "Keeps away the Nargles. They make your brain fuzzy." Her wand was tucked behind her ear for safekeeping.

"Those earrings are beautiful, Miss . . .?"

"Lovegood, love. Luna Lovegood."

"Those earrings are beautiful, Miss Lovegood," Phil smiled at her, blinding Dan with his radiance and utter politeness.

Luna smiled as the elevator doors slid apart, revealing the second floor, which was busting with activity. Witches and wizards rushing, muttering apologies as they bumped into one another, smiling at coworkers, delivering important scrolls.

"Come, boys, I'll walk you," Luna offered, once she saw the busy scene unraveling before her eyes. They accepted and followed the short woman. "So what are your names?"

"Phil Lester. And this is my boyfriend, Dan."

"Dan Howell," he said, introducing himself and shaking Luna's hand.

Her eyes went wide, and she stopped in her tracks, making a wide wizard curse as he spilled his coffee.

"...Howell, did you say?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, goodness. This is what this trial is about, isn't it? Did she show you your prophecy?"

She tugged both of the boy's by their sleeves into a (conveniently abandoned) room.

"What did she tell you?"

"'S.P.T to M.Q.M: A boy born on the
11th of June will be able to finish Lord Voldemort once and for all,'" recited Dan immediately. How could he have forgotten?

"You're too young. Too young..." Luna paced around the room, muttering to herself. "Daniel...Would you like some... help with that? Because I know a group of warriors who have been watching you since you've stepped on that train, the very first day. This is your destiny."

"I'll help you," Phil said firmly, grabbing Dan's hand and looking him in the eye.

"What do you mean 'help'?" Asked Dan. He had no idea how he was going defeat someone - or rather, something - that was supposed to have dissolved into glitter in the eighth movie. (Really, worst movie death ever.)

"I mean like, private training lessons - for the both of you," she added, nodding at Phil. "Where the best of the best will teach you how to become better wizards, teach you more powerful spells. It's very interesting, I promise. Have either of you learned how to conjure a Patronus yet?"

She glanced at the clock at the door, which consisted of planets and stars rather than numerals.

"Merlin, we're nearly late! We'll speak after the trial, I hope?"

"Of course," agreed Phil.

And they strolled out the door.

The couple gripped each other with one hand, and their wand in their pocket with the other.

________

8:12AM.

QUAGMIRE: How do you plead?

MCGONAGALL: Guilty, your Honor.

QUAGMIRE: Very well. Can you describe exactly the events that took place last night, Professor?

MCGONAGALL: I told Daniel Howell and Philip Lester to accompany me to the Room of Time, where I showed them both the prophesy that pertained to them...

QUAGMIRE: Them, excluding Philip?

MCGONAGALL: Yes, your Honor. I felt he should know because he cares very deeply for Daniel. I also feel that he could - or rather, will - do anything and everything in his power to help him.

QUAGMIRE: So noted. Continue.

MCGONAGALL: I showed them the prophesy that pertained to them, because they are young adults and I felt by now they should know. I understand it is illegal but they deserved it.

QUAGMIRE: So noted. Have you reached a verdict?

JURY: We have, your Honor.

QUAGMIRE: And what say you?

JURY: We find Minerva McGonagall...

At that very moment, 12 masked people burst into the room, all wearing black, billowing cloaks that engulfed them and made them appear as though they were nothing more than floating white faces. The one in the front Stunned the Judge, who fell back in her chair. Everyone in the court room stood up at once and began to flee.

There were flashes of red, left and right. People were falling over, screaming. No flashes of green though. That spell was reserved for only one wizard.

Instinctively, Dan crouched on the floor, trying to be as silent as possible (which was not a difficult task - the court was hysteric.)

Dan reached blindly for Phil's hand, frantically waving and hoping to grip something, anything, and their fingers automatically intertwined.

"Dan...Dan, they're here for you."

The hopelessness in Phil's eyes all but broke Dan's heart. He knew. Twelve skilled Death Eaters versus two 14 year old wizards. They stood no chance. They stood no chance. They stood no chance.

The words echoed in Dan's head, thinking of what to do, and panic fluttered in his head like a group of angry moths and words and memories flashed from every angle. He was going insane. He knew it. He couldn't think straight. All he could see were Phil's eyes. Blue. As bright as ever.

Destination. Determination. Deliberation.

He was only a fourth year; what the hell was he thinking? Apparition? Not even the most skilled sixth years could Apparate without splinching themselves. Yet, it was the only think he could think of. So he held tight to the only thing worth holding on to, and hoped for the best.