On the morning of September first, instead of the usual two disguised Death Eaters leaning against the iron gates across from numbers eleven and thirteen, there were six. Apparently they were expecting Harry Potter to just stroll out of number twelve with his trunk and head off, happy as anything, to Hogwarts. As Katie was sat in the kitchen with Hermione and Ron adding extra detailing to their plan to infiltrate the Ministry, she could not help but feel strange that she was not on the train on her way to Hogwarts. Sure, it had always just been school, but she would definitely miss it; she had some good memories there.

Kreacher came hobbling towards the three of them carrying a shining silver tray of tea and cakes. Instead of his usual rags, Kreacher was now wearing a fluffy white towel and had the fake locket dangling from around his neck. Harry had gifted Kreacher this locket, and ever since then, Kreacher had been much nicer, and Harry was kind in return. The house-elf had scrubbed the kitchen from top to bottom one night while the four teenagers were asleep, and now he took pleasure in cleaning and cooking once more. Kreacher had even stopped calling Hermione a Mudblood and actually wished her a good morning on a few occasions. Hermione, of course, was delighted, and she was overjoyed that people were finally treating the house-elf with respect.

When he reached the legs of Katie's chair, Kreacher sunk into a low bow and held the silver tray up high so that it was within her reach.

"Would Mistress Blair like some tea?" he asked in what was his most polite croak.

"What have I told you about bowing, Kreacher?" Katie chuckled while accepting a cup of tea and a cake from the elf. "I'm not some kind of — some kind of princess, or something."

"According to the Daily Prophet, you are." Harry's voice sounded from the doorway. That morning, it had been his turn to hide beneath the Invisibility Cloak by the entrance of the Ministry and see if he could find out any information that might help them safely get inside, get the locket, and get back out. He had just returned and brought with him a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Katie arched her eyebrow, confusion bubbling inside of her. "What?"

"Here, take a look at this." Harry dropped the Daily Prophet down on the table and took a seat next to her. Katie pulled the newspaper close to her and gasped. A picture of her in her Slytherin Quidditch robes and holding the Quidditch Cup was beaming up off the page. Above her picture was the headline: WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE.

"What's it say?" Ron demanded, lifting himself up out of his seat and attempting to read the Prophet upside down. To save him this strain, Katie read the article aloud. The other three sipped their tea and nibbled their cakes as they listened.

"Katerina Blair, seventeen, seventh year Slytherin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is wanted for questioning about the death of Albus Dumbledore. One student, a fellow Slytherin by the name of Daphne Greengrass, claims to have seen Katerina running towards the Astronomy Tower, where Albus Dumbledore was killed, on the night of his death. Reliable sources tell us that Katerina, who is more commonly known by the wizarding population as the Slytherin Princess, was not at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters this morning to take the journey to Hogwarts School. In fact, Katerina has not been seen by any member of the public since the first of August. A common theory is that Katerina is a powerful user of Dark magic and has joined forces with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, as reports from her classmates (Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson) tell us that she is a known Parselmouth. In the winter of 1994, Katerina was arrested for the murder of her father, Anthony Blair, but was later released and cleared of all charges."

Katie broke away. She did not want to read the rest of the article. Although that paragraph contained many shocking pieces of information (and misinformation), only one really stood out to Katie. It did not come as a surprise to her that Daphne Greengrass would sell her out just to get her name in the Daily Prophet, but Pansy? Pansy had been one of Katie's best friends. She never would have expected it of her.

"A powerful user of Dark magic?" Ron broke the silence. He sounded so offended that the article might have been written about him. "Are they mental?"

"No, Ron, they're not," Hermione had said, and Harry had opened his mouth to argue but she pressed on, a little more loudly. "I'm not saying that Katie is a Dark witch — I'm saying that Voldemort has taken control of the Ministry, therefore he has control over what's being printed in the Daily Prophet."

"Then why would he make me supposedly being a Dark witch and joining him out to be a bad thing?" Katie quizzed.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione sighed. "It's a way for him to get his hands on you. The general public are terrified of Voldemort and Dark magic, and if they believe that you're a Dark witch, they'll be more adamant on catching you and turning you in."

"But Voldemort said he wanted me to go to him," Katie pressed on. For some inexplicable reason, she was determined to find a flaw in Hermione's claim. "Why would he be trying to have me arrested now?"

Hermione's face contorted as she though hard about this question. It did not take her long to come up with a suitable answer.

"He must know you're with Harry," she claimed. "If he already knows that you're not on the Hogwarts Express right now, then he knows that Harry, Ron and I aren't either. If he can find you, he can find Harry."

"Well, that's..." Katie began, but she trailed off, not having words to describe how this news made her feel. She brought her cup of tea to her lips and drank, not caring that it burned the inside of her mouth.

"Terrifying." Ron finished with a shudder. Katie nodded in agreement and Hermione leaned across the table, giving Katie a very grave look.

"You've got to be extra careful when you're patrolling outside the Ministry," she told Katie, who gave her an effortless nod. "I'm being serious. You're a wanted woman now, Katie."

"So are you, Hermione," Ron intervened. "You're on the list of Muggle-borns that didn't go into the Ministry and present themselves from interrogation!"

"If anyone's got to be careful, it's Harry," Katie piped up, instantly silencing the growing argument between Hermione and Ron. "In case you've forgotten, last week, the Prophet printed that he was wanted for questioning about Dumbledore's death too. Voldemort wants him more than any of us."

"Thanks, Katie, you really know how to calm my nerves," Harry drawled sarcastically and the other three laughed. "There's something else that you're not going to like. Look..."

Harry flipped the Daily Prophet over so that they could all see the front page, which bore a picture of Professor Snape and the headline: SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER.

"No!" Katie, Ron and Hermione said together.

"Snape, Headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore's study — Merlin's pants!" Hermione shrieked before leaping up from her seat and hurtling from the room, shouting as she went, "I'll be back in a minute!"

"'Merlin's pants'?" Ron repeated, looking amused. "She must be really upset." He pulled the newspaper towards himself and read the article about Snape.

Five minutes later, Hermione re-entered the kitchen. She was carrying a large, framed picture, which she lowered to the floor before seizing her small, beaded bag from the kitchen dresser. Opening it, she proceeded to force the painting inside, and despite the fact that it was patently too large to fit inside the tiny bag, within a few seconds, it had vanished inside the bag.

"Phineas Nigellus," she panted. " Snape could send him to look inside the house for him. But let him try now, all Phineas Nigellus will be able to see now is the inside of my handbag.

"Good thinking!" Ron grinned, looking impressed.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled.

As they were finishing their tea and cakes, each of them lost in thought, Harry decided to break the peaceful silence.

"I think we should do it tomorrow," he said. "Go into the Ministry, I mean."

The other three gawked at him. Ron choked on his tea.

"Tomorrow?" Katie repeated. "Are you serious, Harry?"

"I am," Harry nodded, his expression solemn and showing no hint of a joke. "I don't think we're going to be much better prepared than we are now even if we skulk around the Ministry entrance for another month. The longer we put it off, the further away that locket gets. There's already a good chance Umbridge has chucked it away; the thing doesn't open."

Hermione was biting her lip, deep in thought.

"We know everything important," Harry went on, addressing Hermione. "We know they've stopped Apparition in and out of the Ministry. We know only the most senior Ministry members are allowed to connect their homes to the Floo Network now, because Ron heard those two Unspeakables complaining about it. And we know roughly where Umbridge's office is, because of what you heard that bearded bloke saying to his mate—

"I'll be up on Level One, Dolores wants to see me." she recited immediately.

"Exactly." Harry said.

"I don't know, Harry, I don't know... there are an awful lot of things that could go wrong, so much relies on chance..."

"That'll be true even if we spend another three months preparing. It's time to act."

All of a sudden, Harry let out a hiss of pain that was barely audible and his hand shot up to his scar, but when he saw Hermione narrowing her eyes at him, he played it off like he had simply reached up to move aside a piece of his hair. Harry stood up. At once, Kreacher hurried forwards.

"Master has not finished his cake, would Master prefer the savoury stew, or else the treacle tart to which Master is so partial."

"Thanks, Kreacher, but I'll be back in a minute — er — bathroom."

As Harry raced for the door, Hermione made to follow him, but Ron took her arm and held her back. It was not long before a scream rang out from upstairs. Katie, Ron and Hermione looked between each other, terrified, before leaping from their chairs, knocking them over, and running up the stairs, banging into each other and tripping on the steps. Inside one of the bathrooms, Harry was yelling. Katie tried to open the door but found it locked. Panic rising inside of her, she banged her fists against the door.

"Harry!" she shouted. "Harry, open the door!"

Harry unbolted the door and, as she had been leaning against it, she fell forwards into the bathroom, Hermione catching her before she could tumble over.

"What were you doing?" Hermione demanded sternly.

"What d'you think I was doing?" Harry responded.

"You were yelling your head off!" Ron proclaimed.

"Oh yeah... I must've dozed off or—"

"Harry, please don't insult our intelligence," Hermione scolded. "We know your scar hurt downstairs and you're white as a sheet. Dumbledore wanted you to close your mind—"

"Hermione, I can't!" Harry said, exasperated. "You know I'm lousy at Occlumency, I never got the hang of it."

Katie's eyes danced between the three other people in the bathroom, wondering if they were all thinking the same thing that she was, then she shrugged and said conversationally, "I could teach you."

Harry blinked at her. "I — what?"

"I'm an Occlumens, remember?" Katie said. "I've never taught Occlumency to anyone, but I could give it a shot."

"Brilliant!" Hermione said, an undertone of coldness to her voice. She was clearly still angry with Harry.

"Maybe I can use this connection I have with Voldemort," Harry began, continuing rapidly before Hermione could reprimand him. "Listen, I've just saw Voldemort murder a woman. He's looking for a wandmaker named Gregorovitch. I wouldn't know any of this if—"

"You're not supposed to know any of this!" Hermione snapped.

"But it's useful," Harry argued back. "At least I know where he's going."

"What would Voldemort want with a wandmaker, anyway?" Ron asked.

"Maybe he thinks Gregorovitch knows why my wand did what it did when Voldemort was chasing me — you know, attack him itself." Harry said. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and ran his shaking hands through his disheveled hair.

"Harry, you keep talking about what your wand did," Hermione said, "but you made it happen! Why are you so determined not to take responsibility for your own power?"

"Because I know it wasn't me! And so does Voldemort, Hermione! We both know what really happened!"

They glared at each other. Katie knew that Harry had not convinced Hermione and she was creating counter-arguments against both his theory with the wand and the fact that he was permitting himself to see into Voldemort's mind. Thankfully, Ron intervened.

"Drop it," he advised her. "It's up to him. And if we're going to the Ministry tomorrow, don't you think we should go over the plan?"

***

"Antoinette Banks," Hermione said to Katie, handing her a flask of thick, plum-coloured Polyjuice Potion. "Department of Magical Transportation, Apparition Test Centre."

After drinking the Polyjuice Potion and undergoing a painful transformation, Katie found that she had grown at least a foot and instead of her usual, long, dirty blonde hair, she was sporting extravagant chestnut curls. Ron let out a snort of amusement and Katie glared at him.

"I don't know what you're laughing at," she snapped. "You look like a ferret."

Ron waved an accusing finger at her. "Don't you dare compare me to Draco Malfoy."

Katie, Harry and Hermione laughed loudly. All four of them had taken Polyjuice Potion to turn themselves into a Ministry worker. Ron was now a wizard named Reginald Cattermole, Harry was a very tall and intimidating man called Albert Runcorn, and Hermione was a rather sophisticated, grey-haired witch by the name of Mafalda Hopkirk.

"Shall we get going, then?" Harry said.

"Yes, I suppose we should." Hermione responded.

Together, the four of them left the empty, run-down theatre in which they had hidden the unconscious bodies of Mafalda Hopkirk, Reginald Cattermole, Albert Runcorn and Antoinette Banks, and they made their way across the street where iron railings framed two sets of steps, one of them labelled 'Gentlemen' and the other 'Ladies.'

"Well, see you in a bit." Ron said to Katie and Hermione, who joined the que for the ladies bathroom. Katie and Hermione entered separate cubicles and Katie saw Hermione's feet lift from the ground and step into the toilet. Grimacing, Katie done the same, and she knew that this was the right move because, although she had stepped into water, her feet remained quite dry and suddenly she was sucked down the toilet and emerged from one of the fireplaces in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

The Atrium was much darker than Katie remembered. The usual golden statue that sent sunspots dancing across the polished floor had been replaced by an enormous, black stone statue of a pretty witch and a handsome wizard sitting on ornate thrones. The statue was engraved with the words 'Magic Is Might.'

"Psst!"

Katie whipped around to see the disguised Harry, Ron and Hermione hastening towards her.

"Did you get in all right?" Hermione whispered.

"No, she's still stuck in the bog." Ron said.

"Oh, very funny... it's horrible, isn't it?" she said to Harry, who was staring up at the statue. "Have you seen what they're sitting on?"

Katie looked more closely and realised that what she thought were thrones were actually mounds of carved humans: hundreds and hundreds of men, women and children pressed together to support the weight of the handsomely robed witch and wizard.

"Muggles," Hermione shuddered. "In their rightful place. Come on, let's get going."

They joined the stream of witches and wizards moving towards the golden gates at the end of the hall. They passed through the gates and into a smaller hall, where queues were forming in front of twenty golden grilles housing as many lifts. Harry led them into one of the lifts and they had just settled inside when one of the Death Eaters who had witnessed Dumbledore's death strode towards them.

"Cattermole! It's still raining inside my office."

Ron looked to the others for help, but they were all staring, unspeaking, at their feet. Nerves were bubbling up inside Katie at a rapid pace.

"Have you tried an umbrella?" Ron said in a quavering voice, giving a nervous laugh.

Yaxley's already stern face melted into a furious scowl.

"You realise that I am on my way downstairs to interrogate your wife," Yaxley growled. "Now, if my wife was accused of being a Mudblood — not that any woman I married would be mistaken for such filth — and the Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my top priority to do that job, Cattermole. You have one hour."

With that being said, Yaxley turned on his heel and swept away. The grilles slammed shut and the lift began to ascend. Ron's — or, Reginald's — face looked pale with fear.

"Merlin's beard! What am I gonna do?" Ron cried. "My wife's all alone downstairs!"

Katie and Hermione shared a look of disbelief.

"Ron, you don't have a wife." Harry said.

The lift abruptly stopped and the familiar, cool female voice said, "Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"But how do I stop it raining?" Ron asked desperately as the grilles slid open.

"I'll go with you," Katie told Ron, hurrying to follow him out of the lift. Hermione opened her mouth to object but Katie said, "I got top marks in Charms, remember?"

Hermione nodded curtly. The golden grilles slammed shut again and Harry and Hermione slid out of sight.

"Right," Ron said thickly. "Let's go, then."

Katie and Ron sped through the halls, dodging out of the way of many other bustling Ministry workers, until they eventually found the office labelled: Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - Corban Yaxley.

The office door was already unlocked so Ron pushed it open and the pair stepped inside.

"Wow," Katie said. "It really is raining in here."

Water was lashing from the ceiling like sprinklers, soaking all of Yaxley's possessions. The smooth, polished floor was covered in a layer of rippling water and droplets were running down the handsomely boarded walls.

"How in the name of Merlin do we fix this?" Ron gasped, sounding hopeless, but Katie had already taken out her wand and was inspecting the ceiling.

"The rain is definitely a curse," she stated. "Doesn't look like a problem with an Atmospheric Charm."

"How do you know that?" Ron questioned, sounding impressed.

"I'm no Hermione, but I did pay attention in class sometimes. Here, help me — the incantation is Finite Incantatem."

Ron and Katie pointed their wands at the ceiling and said, "Finite Incantatem!"

At once, the water stopped sprouting, and the only evidence that it had ever been raining within the office was the smooth sheet of water that was still covering the floor, and the soggy books on the shelves and desk.