A Horcrux's Fate

Chapter 20

Arthur stood in the dimly lit Atrium, the echo of his hurried footsteps reverberating against the marble floors. Anxiety gnawed at his insides as he cast a furtive glance around, half-expecting dark figures to emerge from the shadows. The Ministry of Magic had transformed from a place of familiar security into something much darker in the last few days—ever since he'd received that dreadful Howler.

The heavy lift doors slid open, momentarily drawing his attention away from his racing thoughts. He stepped forward, but as he did, a strong, commanding presence caught his eye. There was Kingsley Shacklebolt, tall and unyielding, standing like a beacon in the murky waters of Arthur's dread. Their eyes met, and Arthur's heart pounded not just with fear, but with an unexpected flicker of hope.

"I need to talk to you," Arthur blurted out, urgency lacing his every word.

Kingsley's brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped out of the lift, his demeanour quickly shifting into one of concern. "I think I have an idea of what this is all about," he said, leading Arthur into his office with the air of a man accustomed to receiving troubling news. "Let's discuss it in my office." He gestured for Arthur to follow him as they made their way back into the lift, which ascended to the first level.

The spacious and sparsely decorated office bustled with an urgency unique to the Ministry of Magic. With their chairs cushioned in plush fabric, Arthur felt simultaneously comforted and cramped as he tried to deliver the gravity of his situation.

"It's about your son, George, isn't it?" Kingsley enquired, the gravity of his voice its own echo in the stillness.

Arthur's heart sank. "Yes," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "A Howler informed us that George had been abducted." The words clawed their way out, dragging with them the weight of despair that had settled heavy on his chest.

Kingsley's face grew sombre as he reached out to clasp Arthur's shoulder. "I'm aware of the circumstances. A member of the Auror department contacted me via Floo Network. Death Eaters have infiltrated the joke shop in Diagon Alley." Each sentence carried the weight of a well-rehearsed script, yet the emotional resonance was unmistakable. "Upon hearing about the incident at the shop, I immediately sent additional Aurors to further investigate."

"Percy went to the shop and George's flat to gather information," Arthur replied, fidgeting nervously with his hands, anxiety bubbling up like a potion slightly too hot over the cauldron's edge.

Kingsley nodded, his expression grave. "Who sent the Howler? What did it say?"

Arthur's fury ignited at the mention of the Howler. "Yaxley told us he had kidnapped my son! He demanded that we bring Harry to the Forbidden Forest before midnight—or else they'd kill him!" The words burst forth, tinged with desperation.

"Where is Harry now?" Kingsley asked, his tone shifting to one of urgency as he leaned closer.

"He's with my son, Bill. Molly's there, too." As realisation dawned on him, Arthur's stomach dropped. "Kingsley, Harry's condition is critical. He's unconscious."

The minister's expression shifted. "Unconscious? Has his illness worsened?"

"He's in a critical condition, but he's managing to stay alive. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny have initiated the healing procedure, but now they all seem to be in a state of unconsciousness."

Kingsley's brows furrowed deeper, mulling over the terrible turn of events. "Why is that? I was aware they needed to brew a potion, but... Did the potion not have the desired effect?"

"The potion worked, but..." Arthur hesitated, glancing out of the window to the bustling streets of London beyond, unaware of the peril hiding within the shadows. "There seems to be a ritual or task that must be completed afterward, but I lack the details. They've been out for so long I—"