Chapter 103: Truth
The end of the year didn’t come soon enough for Rick. Juggling his classes, teaching Fleur, training Rose, answering questions to students who had taken divination despite him not teaching it anymore, taking care of his wives and taking care of the children, had been completely draining for him.
He saw summer break as salvation.
Marlene had given birth to a girl which she named, Elizabeth Lilly, a dirty blonde girl with her mother’s bright blue eyes. She had been the fussiest and the loudest of all his children so far. “She’s just like me.” her mother had proudly said to Rick’s chagrin. He loved Marlene but one in the world was more than enough. Just like Bella.
Edgar Corvus Bones on the other hand had been the most quiet after Vega, who was a natural occlumens. The little guy always looked like he was frowning. Rick didn’t care and simply loved that his boy took after his mother for his hair as he was of the opinion that the world needed more redheads around.
Amelia had been a whole other person when she held her baby boy in her arms for the first time. When a few minutes prior, she had broken Rick’s jaw with a punch because his support annoyed her as she was pushing their son out of her womb, she had looked like the most tender, loving and caring person in the world afterwards. It hasn't changed since. Every time she saw her son, Amelia Bones, director of the DMLE and badass witch all around melted into Mommy Amelia, cooing.
Susan had been over the moon by Edgar’s birth. Everytime she could, she would sneak into Bella’s quarters in the castle and spend time with her cousin. Rose joked that she was almost jealous of him because Susan spent more time with him than her. That was a lie because Rose was with her all the time even during those moments.Lily had finally succeeded in making the unlimited-mirror and promptly presented it to Dumbledore and the rest of the order. She gave credits to Rick for inspiring her with his idea of drawing runes on surfaces. Now, anyone just had to draw the name of a person with blood linked to a mirror and it would connect to their mirror. She was still working on voice command as some people with long names would be a chore to call. It didn’t matter much now as it was only a prototype for use of the Order only. She needed to think more about how to make it viable for every witch and wizard in the world.
In April, the fifth year career orientation happened.
While Draco had manifested a desire to go for a mastery in potions and DADA he told Snape that it was only a back up plan. His goal was to become a solicitor as it would help tremendously in making connections which would help House Malfoy in the long term. He also liked the law and how his Uncle Rick and Aunt Andromeda tend to outsmart everyone and get the outcome they wanted by simply using the legislation in place.
Snape had been impressed and told him that if he kept his grades up in potions and was interested he would offer him an apprenticeship, even if potions wouldn’t be his career of choice.
Susan had been less devious and more forward. She was going to either become an Auror or follow Rose wherever she went or do both. Amelia had wanted to protest when words reached her that her niece wanted to be an auror. Not that she doubted her skills but it was a dangerous job and there were only three Bones left. Susan’s answer had been hard as steel and swift as the wind : “Auntie, make more babies.”
Rose on the other hand plunged Minerva on a time trip twenty years back. But it wasn’t Lily, the head of Gryffindor had seen, it was Rick.
“Considering your grades you could probably do any job you’d like when you graduate. Providing you go for the proper NEWTS. However, do you have an idea of what you want to do?”
“Nothing definitive, Professor. I have ideas, yes. Plenty of them but I’m not quite sure if I would be happy by choosing either of them.”
“What do you have in mind? Exactly.”
“Well… You’d be happy to know that I have considered playing quidditch professionally. At least for a few years.”
“I am indeed.” Minerva said with a smile. “But my personal opinion is inconsequential, this is your life, not mine. No matter how much I’d love to see you play seeker for the Montrose Magpies.”
“I was more thinking about Puddlem-”
“Careful, Miss Potter. There are some things that shouldn’t—” she stopped herself realizing the conversation was almost the same word for word that she had had with Rick in his own meeting with her twenty years earlier. “Well played, Rose.”
Minerva conceded she had been had and did away with the formal speech between professor and student. Rose was grinning, proud of herself.
“Not Puddlemere then? Just to be sure.”
“No,” Rose shook her head. “But not the Magpies either. Not like I don’t want to, but Viktor is already there playing as a seeker and I don’t want to deal with the staff and the fans waiting for me to do as well as dad did. I want to play for the Harpies. Angelina and Alicia want to play there and I like to play with them.”
Minerva nodded as if Rose’s decision was the right one in her opinion. “Do you also want to become an unspeakable or explore the world?” she asked, pushing forward the conversation.
“Not unspeakable, no. While they get privilege treatment and can do things outside the law, the rules are too restrictive. I like to talk about and share what I’m working on, so the DOM is a definite no. Exploring the world however… Honestly it’s what’s interesting me the most. Discovering new magics, forgotten ones or forgotten places. Whether I create new spells or not doesn’t really matter to me right now, however.”
The more she heard the more pleased Minerve was. She still went for the kill however. “What about stay at home mom?”
Rose found the concept amusing. “Not before my mid-thirties. I saw how my parents discarded part of their youth for us. I’m grateful for that, we all are but I’m certain that had they had the choice they would have postponed being parents for a decade or two. Dad would probably be deep into the jungle battling nundus or decrypting ancient runes in a lost tomb with mom on his back taking notes if that had been the case.”
The image made Minerva chuckle. “Yes, I can imagine them doing that.”
“So, yes. One day I’d like to be a stay at home mom but once I’ve enjoyed my youth fully.”
“Explorer is not really a remunerated job, well… in a stable way. It’s full of dangers too, so DADA, transfiguration, herbology, potions and care of magical creatures are a must. Charms, arithmancy and runes are optional but would be handy.”
“That’s what I thought too.”
“Are you going to follow in your parents footsteps and go for thirteen NEWTs?”
“No. They did it because they had something to prove. I don’t. I will drop Astronomy and divination.” Minerva seemed pleased to hear about the latter. “Dad’s textbook is really good and while he makes divination really interesting and logical, I don’t have the third eye so it’s pointless to pursue it further. Besides… Professor Trelawney.” She didn’t say more but her head of house clearly understood what she meant.
“Will you be taking extra curricular courses next year?”
“Yes. Alchemy and Ancient magic.”
“Ancient magic?” It surprised Minerva. “Not advanced arithmancy?”
“No, I can learn advanced arithmancy on my own or from mom or dad. Ancient magic sounds interesting and alchemy well, that’s a bit of my hobby. I always watched dad doing impossible things with it.”
Minerva sighed. “I’m sorry to say, it will be difficult for you to have a teacher. The headmaster is… busy as you know and only your parents are currently qualified in Britain to teach it besides him. There is also the number of students wishing to take the course to take into account too. So far only Miss Granger and you displayed an interest in the discipline. You could, of course, take the NEWT for it but you will have to learn by yourself, thankfully the library has quite an extensive collection of books about it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
When Rose left, Minerva leaned back in her seat in relief. Unlike her father, Rose had a more defined idea and plan of what she wanted to do once she graduated.
When the end of the year came and the exams were over, Bella, Rick and Lily found themselves in Albus’ office late in the evening after the feast to discuss the future for the on coming new school year in September.
“I have good news.” Dumbledore went around his desk and sat in his chair. “You did such an excellent job as a DADA teacher, Bella, that the board accepted my proposition when I said I intended to hire you again next year. Many students praised you for your class to their parents. A bit more eccentric than Rick’s and not as demanding. I think you’re officially the new best DADA teacher since Voldemort put his jinx on the position.”
The aforementioned Lady Black grinned proudly like a loony.
“Did they finally see the errors of their ways or did Fudge’s popularity fall so low they didn’t care?” Lily wondered.
“The latter I’m afraid.”
“Still this is good news indeed.” Rick smiled at his second wife.
Dumbledore’s tone shifted to something like exasperation however. “Yes. There is a minor problem however. After the… shenanigans we did with replacing teachers to fight Dolores and the Ministry, the board forbade a teacher to have more than one post. As such the optional duelling class will have to be cancelled.”
“You can ask Marlene. She’s bored as hell.” Bella blurted out. “I mean sure, she has Liz to raise but it doesn’t take all her time, neither will the duelling classes.”
“I… That’s a good idea.” Dumbledore blinked, suddenly considering the possibility. “Do you think she would be interested?”
“Oh she will!” Bella grinned and both Lily and Rick nodded in agreement.
“Hogwarts will be happy to receive another world champion among her staff. Now, I heard a few students wished-”
“Albus!”
Everyone recognized the voice of Moody interrupting Dumbledore who picked up the mirror from one of his robe’s pockets.
“Alastor, what is it?”
“There is activity in the DOM. The Surveillance snitches caught Death Eaters. Full robes and masks.”
“Contact the members of the Order, part of the Aurors, we’re coming as support.”
“I’m on it.”
Albus stood up and heard Rick talking to Bella. “You’re not coming.”
Of course she protested. “Like hell I’m not!”
“You’re not participating in any battle as long as you’re under vow!”
“Then make it complete!”
Albus gave a look to Lily who shook her head, clearly indicating that it was their business. She then signaled to the floo and walked towards it. He followed her leaving husband and wife to quarrel.
Bella snarled at Rick. “Why won’t you do it?!”
“Because I don’t want to lose you!"
“You won’t, you idiot! I’m not the Bella I used to be when we met! I don’t need that vow anymore! I have you!” she shouted in his face which took him aback.
“I... What?”
“You are my leash! My anchor! Not that stupid vow. You don’t need to be strong all the time either when I’m here! I won’t leave you because you’re showing weakness! I love you, you idiot husband of mine! There is nothing you can do that will make me leave you! I won’t go back to my old ways either because I know you'll leave me if I do.” The last part was said in a whisper as if she was afraid.
“I’m an idiot?! You’re my wife! I won’t leave you, stupid! I’m just scared that without the vow… I will lose you to him.” he confessed.
They looked at each other with a vulnerability mixed with love. At the same time, they grabbed the other and went for a powerful kiss.
“Can you two drama queens go now? Seriously, is this what my descendants became?”
““Shut up, Nigellus.”” Rick and Bella answered at the same time.
“Best descendants you have Black which is a good thing, so stop complaining.” Dippet barked.
Rick grabbed Bella’s forearm and recited the words to free her of her vow. In a flash they went to the floo and arrived at the Ministry. Immediately, they started to make a run for the Department of mysteries but their way was quickly blocked in the Atrium.
“Corvus Potter and Bellatrix Black.”
They may not have been able to see under the hood of the silhouette blocking their way but they knew who it was. Rick didn’t even bother to talk, he sent a cutting curse on the spot.
“Together!” he said to Bella who was surprised. She had expected him to tell her to run help the others or fetch Dumbledore. She quickly used occlumency to get herself under control however.
“Together!” she replied and began casting curses.
Rick took a defensive supporting role, using transfiguration and charms to block and deviate any spells Voldemort sent their way. It wasn’t the first time they fought side by side. They did plenty of times when he taught her or when they trained for whatever duelling tournament she and Marlene entered in. Their dance was well practiced.
The Atrium did not simply erupt into chaos—it was obliterated into a symphony of destruction, a battleground of clashing titans. Magic surged through the vast chamber in violent, prismatic waves, each spell charged with deadly intent and ancient power. Bellatrix’s curses were not simply flung—they were hurled like bolts loose from the heavens themselves, sizzling streaks of amethyst, viridian, and argent that carved the air with banshee screams. She danced not with grace but with wrath—every spin, every lunge a declaration of war as she snarled incantations in a voice gone hoarse from relentless casting. Her wand became an extension of her fury, a storm-wracked blade slashing across an invisible battlefield.
Behind her, Rick was the anchor to her tempest, the bulwark to her firestorm. Every transfiguration he performed was precise and immediate, no wasted motion. Marble tiles writhed upward into seamless barriers, scrolls of living runes shimmered into being midair, intercepting explosions with pulse-like detonations of counterforce. A Killing Curse glanced off a transfigured obsidian mirror he conjured in less than a breath, the deadly green light recoiling into empty space. He was not casting spells; he was composing them, weaving a net of survival with calm brutality.
Above them, a chandelier shattered from a stray hex, raining razor-sharp molten shards toward the fighters. Rick flicked his wand once, and the shards vanished in a hiss of vapor, transfigured into harmless steam that curled away like fleeing ghosts.
The battle resumed instantly, fiercer than ever. Bellatrix unleashed a torrent of spells in a language that hadn’t been spoken aloud in centuries, her voice cracking but unrelenting. Voldemort, lips curled in something between disdain and intrigue, deflected her with deftness, his wand cutting through the air like a scalpel. Rick moved like a tactician—methodical and fluid. He froze patches of the floor beneath Voldemort’s feet, causing the Dark Lord to levitate just as Bellatrix’s scarlet hex, a spear forged of condensed wrath and fire, slammed toward his chest. Voldemort twisted aside with inhuman grace, but even he faltered for a breath.
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time fractured amid the bombardment. The once-grand atrium had become a cavern of ruin, scorched black and half-destroyed, statues reduced to rubble, the enchanted ceiling cracked and flickering like a damaged sky. Still, they fought—two against one, and neither side yielded.
Aurors arrived in waves, but none dared step forward. Wands half-raised, they watched, dumbstruck, as reality seemed to warp beneath the force of unleashed magic. Even when Dumbledore himself entered the chamber, accompanied by the Order and a line of stunned Death Eaters hovering in magical binds, he paused, his expression unreadable as he took in the devastation.
And then Voldemort, with a hiss that curdled the air, conjured a final infernal monstrosity—a Fiendfyre serpent the size of a basilisk, coiling through the space with burning wings and a mouth that belched war.
Rick did not hesitate. He stepped forward, raised his wand, and spoke a word that no one could hear—but everyone felt. A rush of air trembled through the Atrium as light, searing and celestial, erupted from his wand. Blue and white, raw and absolute. The Fiendfyre shrieked and vanished, consumed by Rick’s will.
All was still.
Voldemort stood motionless for a heartbeat, his eyes locked on Rick with something unfathomable in them—loathing, yes, but also something colder. Then he was gone with a crack, leaving only the scent of scorched air and the silence of the dead.
Rick remained unmoving, wand still raised, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of a man who had stared into the abyss—and spat in it.
Bellatrix turned to him, her hair wild “That… that wasn’t in any of your lessons. You held out on me.” she pouted.
Rick exhaled slowly, a dry smile touching his lips. “It was a spur of the moment idea.”
One voice full of fear broke the silence. “It was him. He’s back. He’s back!”
Rick’s face transformed into a mask of glacial severity, the kind of cold that froze not just air but hope. His eyes gleamed with the unmistakable glint of Black madness—raw, undiluted fury forged into controlled intent. It was not rage that consumed him, but judgment—final, unyielding, and absolute. Bellatrix, standing nearby, instantly recognized the shift. That look was never for show; it was the prelude to a reckoning.
As Rick strode forward with silent purpose, the crowd instinctively parted, the aura of his resolve bending the atmosphere like the calm before a superstorm. Cornelius Fudge was a shivering mess of stammered pleas and flailing hands, clutching at Amelia Bones and Dumbledore like a drowning man grasping driftwood. But no one could save him now.
Rick tapped his shoulder—lightly, almost gently—and Fudge turned, his face flushed with desperate hope. What greeted him was not mercy but a clenched fist crashing into his jaw with the force of righteous fury. The Minister dropped like a sack of flour, unconscious before he hit the floor. A collective gasp rippled through the chamber. Silence fell, stunned and absolute.
Dumbledore exhaled heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose with long-suffering patience, as though he had foreseen this inevitability but hoped in vain to prevent it. Sirius burst into laughter so loud and wild it echoed like thunder in the aftermath of a spellfire duel.
For the rest—Ministry officials, Aurors, civilians—they stood dumbstruck, the impossible having just become inevitable before their eyes. Rick, unmoved, turned back with a face that said everything: justice didn’t always wait for permission.
In a voice as cold and immovable as glacier ice, Rick addressed the room, his words cutting through the lingering silence like a blade forged from pure intent.
“Director Bones,” he said, each syllable crisp and deliberate, ringing with the authority of one who had walked through fire and emerged sovereign. “I have just apprehended the greatest traitor this nation has ever known—one who sold truth for comfort, who gambled the safety of our world for the illusion of peace.”
Bella didn’t even attempt to hold back. While Sirius howled with unrestrained glee, practically doubled over with laughter, Bella’s cackling rose like a siren’s wail—wild, unhinged, echoing through the already-ruined atrium like the exultant cry of a mad goddess. Her eyes sparkled with wicked delight as they landed on Amelia Bones, whose face was a masterclass in strained professionalism.
The smile Amelia wore was stretched so thin it could have torn under the weight of a single additional syllable—tight-lipped, dead-eyed, the very embodiment of bureaucratic crisis management fraying at the seams.
“Thank you, Lord Potter. It’s… very much appreciated.” The redhead’s answer was filled with sarcasm and envy to murder him.
“I just did my civic duty, Director. Now if you excuse me, I’d like to go home and rest. Catching the number one undesirable and fighting the number two had been quite tiring. See you tomorrow for the extraordinary session of the Wizengamot to elect a new Minister for Magic.”
Everyone caught on then, the air heavy with shared realization. Rick, trying and failing to smother a smirk, might as well have drawn a neon sign reading 'Mission Accomplished' over Fudge’s unconscious body. The entire spectacle—the fight, the confrontation, the theatrical knockout—had been a meticulously orchestrated farce, but it had served its purpose flawlessly. Fudge, long the symbol of denial and corruption, was out. And more importantly, the veil of delusion blanketing the Ministry had been torn away.
The Potters, Dumbledore—those who had shouted the truth into a void for over a year—were finally vindicated. Amelia Bones, respected, sharp, and unshakably competent, was all but guaranteed to take the reins. And yet, beneath the ripple of triumph, an undertow of dread gripped the room. Because the truth they had fought to reveal was dreadful: Voldemort had not only returned, but had enjoyed the luxury of time—time to rebuild, to gather, to prepare.
His inner circle was already at his side, his strategy already in motion. They weren’t preparing for war. They were late to it. And now, every second lost would be paid dearly.