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Shadows in St Mungo's: Chapter 10 (Epilogue)
🕑 Added 2025-03-31 13:00:09 +0000 UTCThe corridor of the Auror Department was busier than usual. As soon as Harry passed through the entrance, he felt the gazes fall on him, accompanied by discreet nods and respectful smiles. Some veteran Aurors greeted him with pats on the shoulder, while the younger ones seemed hesitant, as if they didn’t quite know how to interact with him.
He had become a hero again. The man who solved the murders, who stopped a serial killer, and saved lives. That was the version of the story the Ministry chose to tell the public.
The real one? No one was talking about it.
Dawlish was leaning against one of the desks, arms crossed, observing Harry with an unreadable expression. He didn’t seem angry, nor satisfied. Just analyzing, as if trying to understand something that didn’t make sense.
Harry ignored him and went straight to his office.
But before he could open the door, he saw Kingsley waiting inside. The Minister was sitting behind his desk, his hands resting on his knees, calmly looking over the files scattered on Harry’s desk.
Kingsley raised his eyes when Harry entered, closing the door behind him.
“You came back earlier than I expected.”
Harry threw his cloak over the chair and snorted lightly.
“Believe me, the leave lasted longer than I could stand.”
Kingsley nodded, but there was something different in his expression. Something heavier.
“Sit down.”
Harry hesitated for a moment before pulling out the chair and sitting down.
The silence that followed wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it carried an implicit tension. Kingsley studied Harry for a moment before speaking.
“I need you to forget about this.”
Harry blinked.
“Forget what?”
Kingsley leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
“Everything. The murders. Mulciber. Rosier. The Department of Mysteries.”
Harry’s expression hardened.
“So, is that it? You want me to just pretend nothing happened?”
Kingsley sighed heavily.
“It’s not about pretending. It’s about moving on. The Ministry can’t allow this to come to light. Not now.”
Harry laughed, but there was no humor in his tone.
“And when, Kingsley? When will it be convenient enough to address this as it should be?”
The Minister remained silent for a few moments before leaning back in his chair.
“I know you want justice, Harry. But justice and truth don’t always go hand in hand.”
Harry clenched his jaw, crossing his arms.
“And what if someone else dies? What if this isn’t over?”
Kingsley closed his eyes for a moment before answering.
“Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. But for now, I need you to trust me.”
Harry remained silent. The weight of that was suffocating. Kingsley stood up and placed a sealed parchment on the table.
“Read this. And then burn it.”
Harry took the parchment, feeling the rough texture under his fingers. Kingsley watched him for a moment before walking toward the door.
“You did what you could, Harry. Now it’s time to let it go.”
The door closed softly behind him.
Harry remained seated, looking at the parchment in his hands. He knew that it would never be left behind.
Harry stayed still for a long moment, just staring at the sealed parchment on his desk. The Ministry’s seal seemed to shine under the dim light of the room, a silent reminder of the weight of that decision. He knew what Kingsley wanted. He knew that by opening it, he was accepting the veiled order to ask no more questions.
Harry ran a hand over his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble under his fingers. His instinct screamed that this wasn’t over. But what choice did he really have?
With a heavy sigh, he broke the seal.
The parchment unrolled by itself, as if eager to be read. The handwriting was familiar—neat, formal, almost impersonal. It wasn’t Kingsley’s. Probably from some high-ranking official.
“In response to recent events, the investigation has been officially closed. The cases show no confirmed correlation, and the evidence collected has been filed under the Ministry’s absolute confidentiality.”
Harry furrowed his brow.
“Any attempt to reopen the case without authorization will be treated as a direct violation of the Magical Security Act. Any public or private mention of the events will be considered a threat to the stability of the Ministry of Magic.”
He felt his fingers tighten around the parchment.
“The Department of Mysteries will maintain supervision over all those involved, ensuring that sensitive information does not leak.”
And then, at the end, just two words:
“Burn this.”
Harry read and reread those words, feeling a growing fury burning in his chest. The Ministry was burying everything. Erasing the traces, ensuring that no one would ever discover the truth.
The tension in his shoulders increased. He wanted to throw that parchment against the wall, tear it up, scream—but none of that would make a difference.
Then, in a swift movement, he grabbed his wand and pointed it at the document.
“Incendio.”
The flames licked the parchment instantly, consuming the written words as if they had never existed. The ashes fell on his desk, forming a dark and silent dust.
He leaned back in the chair, his eyes fixed on the scorched mark on the wood.
Kingsley wanted him to forget. But Harry Potter never forgot.
He left the Ministry at the end of the day, his mind still heavy with the recent events. The streets of London were busy, witches and wizards coming and going through the Main Atrium before disappearing into the Flu network.
The cold night air was a relief. He walked aimlessly, just following the streets lit by the lampposts, his thoughts tangled like the pieces of an incomplete puzzle.
The case was closed. Officially. But unofficially? What else was hidden beneath those dry, formal words?
The deaths, the connection to the Department of Mysteries, Mulciber gone... There were too many pieces that didn’t fit. And then, there was Daphne.
The thought of her made him stop in the middle of the sidewalk. He hadn’t seen her since that day at the café. He hadn’t responded to her last letter. He didn’t know if he wanted to. Or if he should.
Harry ran a hand through his messy hair and looked at the dark sky. He should leave it behind. But he couldn’t. Not while he knew that the truth was still out there. Waiting to be discovered.
