Harry Potter and the Master of Death [Complete]

Chapter Five - The News of the Day

The next day Harry awoke in the room that had been his Godfathers. Number 12 Grimmauld Place was very different now, clean, fresh smelling and completely inviting. Sun shone in through the window casting hazy beams of yellow across the red Persian rug and four-poster bed. Throughout the house, the walls had been freshly painted and the Black Family Tree Tapestry had been removed. With Hermione's help, he had even managed to undo the permanent sticking spell that held the portrait of Walburga Black to the hallway wall, ending her reign of verbal terror.

Harry inhaled deeply, smelling the sausages and eggs that his house-elf, Kreacher was cooking and his mouth watered. He quickly showered, shaved and dressed then headed downstairs to eat.

He greeted Kreacher as he did every morning, feeling a slight pang of guilt as the tiny old elf slowly filled a plate and put it on the table for him next to the morning issue of the Daily Prophet. He had tried to free the elf but Kreacher had ignored his offer of clothing and seemed content to continue his life of servitude, much to the dismay of Hermione, who harassed them both whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Harry sat down, picked up his fork and stabbed a sausage. Dipping it in the yolk of his egg and taking a large bite, he glanced down at the cover of the Daily Prophet and froze.

The headline was bold and danced across the top of the page. 'Break in at the Ministry of Magic' and beneath it in slightly smaller text 'Office of Auror Harry Potter Ransacked'

Harry almost choked on his mouthful of sausage and grabbed up the newspaper, quickly scanning the story. It was all there, every detail of Camila Crumblehorns encounter with the hooded figure which was referred to as 'The Reaper' or 'Death'. A blow by blow recounting of its trek through the ministry and finally how 'The Monster' passed through Harry's heavily protected door like a 'Ghost'. A highly exaggerated segment regarding Harry's arrival back at the Ministry followed but fortunately, at this point, the 'facts' seemed to have been exhausted. The remainder of the story was nothing more than speculation about what may or may not have been taken from the office of 'The Boy Who Lived'. These included everything from Gorderic Griffindors Sword which, of course, now was back on the wall in Dumbledores old office at Hogwarts, to pictures of Harry's parents or personal items. The article's author, a Mr. Selwig Tottersly had, however, saved the best for last as the story culminated in a comparison of the hooded figure to non-other than 'He Who Must Not Be Named' and a personal belief that the Dark Lord had once again returned.

Harry slammed the paper down hard on the table causing a loud clatter and almost upsetting his cup of tea. Kreacher's cupboard door opened and the elf looked out alarmed but Harry waved him off. His mind was racing. What was the Ministry thinking, allowing such sensitive material to leak into the Daily Prophet? There could be real danger. No one had any idea what the hooded creature was or where it had come from, and if people starting thinking it was Voldemort there could be panic in the streets. Some of the old Death Eaters might even take it as a rallying point.

To Harry, however, it was the theft of the invisibility cloak that was of real concern, what with it being one of the Deathly Hallows. Again, for the umpteenth time, Harry wished that he could speak to Dumbledore, or Sirius or... his parents. He shook his head banishing the thoughts. Such ruminations were of no use. He had always relied on himself and he would do so again.

There was a loud knock at the front door, startling Harry who rose quickly almost knocking over his chair. Kreacher limped out of his cupboard and went to see who it was. Harry looked down at his breakfast, which was now cold and unappealing. It didn't matter, he'd lost his appetite. He cleared the dishes and swigged the last of his lukewarm tea just as Ron came trotting into the room.

"Harry!" He said excitedly. "Harry, have you seen it?" He was waving a copy of the Daily Prophet over his head like a man possessed.

Harry lifted his own copy of the newspaper and nodded. "Yes, I just finished reading it..."

"It's unbelievable! The whole things right there... and on the front page to boot!" Ron said disgustedly.

Harry tossed the newspaper into the bin, on top of his uneaten eggs and sausage, in part to show his own indignation with the rag but also to hide the fact that he had thrown away his breakfast from Kreature.

"You don't think it was Kingsley, do you? I mean..." Ron began, but Harry cut him off.

"No! Of course not, and I'm also quite sure it wasn't your dad." He added unnecessarily. "If anything it was probably that little old witch... Crumblebum or whatever her name was... she seemed to have a bit of a chip on her shoulder."

"Yeah, you're right Harry!" Ron's eyes lit up remembering. "Only two weeks from retirement, and all," he wheezed in a passable imitation of Camila Crumblehorn.

At that moment an owl flew in through the open kitchen window and landed on the table in a mass of molting feathers. It was a large brown barn owl and they knew immediately it was from Hogwarts. The old owl stood still and let Ron take the roll of parchment from its leg and then fluttered over to the sink to get a drink of water from a bowl that Kreature had filled.

"What is it Ron," Harry asked, craning to see around Ron's head of messy, red hair.

"It's from Hermione, she says she thinks we should come to Hogwarts." He answered.

"To Hogwarts?" Harry said. "But why should we go there?"

Ron folded the parchment and put it in his pocket, then turned to look at Harry. "She doesn't say, but if Hermione thinks we should go..."

"You just want to see Hermione," Harry said with a sly grin.

Ron ears immediately turned bright pink. "No I don't... well... I mean I do.. but..." He stammered.

Harry laughed and punched him playfully in the arm. "Come on lover boy.. if we hurry we can catch the Express at King's Cross.