Harry Potter: The art of divination

"ALBUSSS!" A primal roar of pain ripped through the air causing the old headmaster to spin around 

Rufus hobbled forward his body was riddled with wounds and blood drenched his clothes, "What have you done you fool!" Rufus shouted causing the few who weren't chasing the remaining death eaters to stand in shock 

Albus began to form an excuse in his mind on why he stopped Morpheus but before he could speak a memory came to the forefront of his mind, 'You just need to be yourself.' 

'You will make many angry but like always you will have an out.' 

With the memory of Morpheus speaking to him before the battle fresh in his mind Albus replied calmly, "Rufus calm down, you need to see a healer." Albus sighed and looked around, "Many of us do, please wait to assail me with your questions later I assure you there is a reasonable explanation for this." 

Rufus didn't reply immediately he stated down possible the most famous and well respected wizard of his time, his glare was unshaken as he turned to his men, "Team Thunderbird find the anti-Apparation wards and destroy them. We need to start cleaning up this bloody mess." 

Aurors and hit wizards alike immediately set out to help. Be it, finding stragglers, bringing people to the healers or capturing still-breathing death eaters. 

Morpheus's voice sounded next to Albus, "Good job I told you everything would be okay." 

Albus didn't look at the man his eyes were on the battlefield before him a pang of sadness tore into his soul, "So many lives." he whispered 

Morpheus sighed, "Im sorry to tell you this Albus but another war is coming much sooner than you think." 

"I wish you would be incorrect just once," Albus replied turning to the pale man, "Now what do I do to get out of this mess? My enemies will try to have me jailed at the most and stripped of my position at the least. My allies will surely turn their backs on me they have lost too much." 

Morpheus laughed, "You worry too much Albus the solution is simple. Hold a Wizengamot and invite reporters of every paper to bare witness as you make a statement." 

Albus frowned but nodded, "A Wizengamot will already be called after an event like this." 

"Yes true, that's even better you must be the first to speak Albus. Your defense is simple, tell the truth about everything you know." Morpheus supplied with a wide grin 

"However do you mean?" Albus wondered 

"His name, his true heritage, and most importantly what he has done to his soul creating hourcuxes. If I killed him he would just come back before all of them are destroyed. Lay it all on the table." 

Albus looked unsure, "I know Tom will retaliate." 

"With what army? His own ranks have dwindled, and his men probably don't trust him anymore after so many failures. Plus I don't think he will have the chance." Morpheus's smile looked so genuine and almost excited like he had been waiting for this 

"I'll think on it." Albus replied before walking away and heading back to the castle. 

As Albus walked away, the sounds of the battlefield grew distant, replaced by the hurried shouts of Aurors coordinating their cleanup efforts. Healers from St. Mungo's Apparated in as soon as the wards were dismantled, tending to the injured and ferrying the critically wounded to safety. The grim task of identifying the fallen began, with Aurors carefully covering bodies with conjured shrouds.

Rufus Scrimgeour, leaning heavily on a young Auror for support, barked orders between clenched teeth. His injuries seemed to sap none of his ferocity. "Every Death Eater corpse is to be accounted for! We don't need any bloody impostors sneaking into our ranks later. And someone find Morpheus Everglade!"

A hit wizard approached, shaking his head. "Sir, we can't find him. He disappeared during the chaos. No one saw where he went."

Scrimgeour's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around his wand. "Convenient," he muttered bitterly, casting a glance at the horizon, where dawn was breaking through the dissipating smoke.

Albus, now standing at the edge of the battlefield, turned back to where he'd last seen Morpheus. The pale man was gone, as if swallowed by the shadows themselves. A part of him had expected this. Morpheus was never one to linger.

****

The chamber buzzed with a tension that felt almost palpable. Wizengamot members sat in their elevated seats, their faces a mixture of grief, anger, and suspicion. The events of the previous day had left scars not only on the battlefield but also on the fragile trust that held their world together.

Albus Dumbledore entered the chamber, his every step echoing in the silence that followed his arrival. His robes were pristine, though his expression betrayed the weight he carried. The whispers from the gallery grew louder as reporters scribbled furiously, their enchanted quills scratching against parchment.

The minister, seated at the central podium, cleared his throat nervously. "This emergency session of the Wizengamot is hereby called to order to address the recent… tragedy in Hogsmeade and the attack on Hogwarts."

Before the minister could continue, a figure in the gallery stood abruptly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Chief Warlock Dumbledore, you owe us answers!"

Albus raised a hand, his calm demeanor silencing the outcry. "You will have them," he said, his voice carrying over the murmurs. "And I assure you, I will not hold back the truth."

The room froze, the weight of his words settling heavily on every shoulder. Even Rufus Scrimgeour, seated among his Aurors, looked up sharply.

Albus stepped forward, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Yesterday's battle cost us dearly, and it is a loss I feel as deeply as any of you. But we cannot allow grief to cloud our judgment. The truth must be laid bare, no matter how uncomfortable it may be."

He took a deep breath. "I speak of Tom Riddle—known to most as Lord Voldemort. I will reveal his origins, his crimes, and the dark magic that has kept him tethered to this world."

Gasps rippled through the chamber. A lord leaned forward, his face pale. "Dark magic? Are you implying…?"

"Horcruxes," Albus said firmly. The word hung in the air like a curse. "He has split his soul into fragments, anchoring himself to this plane. Killing him outright, as some have sought to do, would be futile until every one of these abominations is destroyed. If he 'died' yesterday it would only make the task of putting him down so much harder. "

The chamber erupted into chaos. Voices overlapped, some shouting for proof, others demanding action.

Albus raised his hand again, his voice cutting through the din like a bell. "We are not without hope. The enemy is fractured. His forces have dwindled. If we act swiftly and decisively, we can destroy these Horcruxes and end this war once and for all."

"Now onto heritage, I must inform you Voldemort is not a pureblood like many think, his name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He is a half-blood like myself." this revelation caused the chamber to erupt in even more outrage and shouts 

"I came here to speak to Tom, I failed you when you were a student, but I will not fail my home. Your hourcuxes will be destroyed and you will fall!" Albus declared