It turned out to be a long and boring day. Another unspeakable brought them some refreshments about an hour later and tried to understand a bit about their bond, but left soon enough.
A house elf brought them a large lunch, much richer than the Hogwarts standard lunch, and later, some tea and biscuits.
In between, they visited the attached library. Harry found some books about flying brooms and how to enchant them. He was slightly surprised to see a lot of Arithmancy in use there and quite a few runes. 'I suggest you switch your elective subjects if you want to go that way,' Hermione told him silently.
'I'm not sure it's possible in the middle of the school year,' he replied.
'We should ask Professor McGonagall about that. I'm sure she'll gladly let you leave Divination. Care is also not useful unless you intend to make a career at that.'
Harry only nodded, but she felt sure he'd try his best to replace these two subjects. She knew he had chosen them only due to Ron, anyhow.
Hermione found other books of interest, of course. She spent the morning with a book about household charms, finding quite a few very interesting ideas there. Then, after lunch, she took a book about identifying spells cast on an object or a person. It was fascinating! It also started her mind thinking of better ways to do the same. She wrote the most promising ideas on a parchment from a pile left on a side table. She wondered if her ideas were any good. With so little magical experience, she doubted that.
After dinner, she opted for some lighter reading. A book about cosmetic spells, with some chapters about sex-related spells, mainly ones to enhance the pleasure in different conditions, seemed ideal. It would also ready her for the night, so she felt.
About an hour later, their original escort joined them, looking very tired. "It all went well enough. We had a bit of confusion close to the end, needing much more power than anticipated, but it went alright in the end. Voldemort is gone for good, we're sure."
Hermione gave it some thought before asking, "Does this mean that the prophecy orb should now be dark, assuming it refers to Voldemort, of course?"
The woman nodded. "Yes, if it's indeed Voldemort, the orb should be dark now. Still, it may refer to another Dark Lord, or even one in the far future, so if it stays lit, that doesn't say anything about Voldemort."
"Can we check it?" Harry asked.
The woman shook her head. "I'm too tired to go there now. I'll only lead you to your bedroom and find somewhere to sleep myself. That ritual took a lot out of us."
Ten minutes later, they were already in their bedroom. Hermione could wait no longer. She used a spell to remove all their clothes, letting them fall on the floor, and quickly led Harry to the bed. "In! Now!"
Harry smirked and dutifully complied. She was sure he'd enjoy it as much as she did.
More than an hour later, their hormones quietened somewhat. They used the bathroom, also enjoying some more mutual fun there, and then crawled to bed naked, hugged each other and fell asleep.
–..–
A house elf awakened them in the morning. "Yous need to wake up if you want some bed-fun before breakfast."
They took the elf's words seriously, having quite a bit of fun in bed before taking a shower each and getting dressed. They found their escort still yawning in the room where they spent most of the previous day.
"Had a good night?" she asked with some mischief in her voice.
"Fabulous!" both teens answered as one.
The woman chuckled. She then pointed at the breakfast ready on the table. "I suggest you eat well, since you'll return to yesterday, a short while after lunch and need to wait for dinner before you can eat again."
They didn't need to be told twice. They'd spent quite a bit of energy before and after sleeping and needed to replenish it.
"Do you have any additional information to confirm the results of the ritual?" Harry asked.
The woman turned serious at once. "Yes, we got some very good results but quite unexpected. You see, at the end of the ritual, all the marked Death Eaters died, probably killed by their master. We believe he felt his magic and life force diminishing and accessed his followers through their marks, trying to replenish his from theirs. Since the ritual wouldn't stop until every drop of life and magic was taken out of him, whatever he took was removed, forcing him to take more and more until there was nothing left. All the victims had the dark mark burn their flesh to the bone before they died."
She then turned even more serious. "You shouldn't mention this to anybody until late at night, of course. Can I trust you to keep it secret or do you need a spell to help you with this?"
"We can keep it secret," both teens said.
–..–
A few minutes later, their escort took them back to Hogwarts to the same place they had left from, a day earlier.
"You need to go back twenty hours. Wait until I'm gone before using the turner. Have fun." She smiled at them and apparated away.
Hermione wrapped the chain around both of them and turned the time-turner twenty turns. Once done, they found themselves in the early afternoon. Judging by the marks on the wet sand, they returned a short while after they had left.
As they walked back to the castle, both tried to remind each other what they had done the previous day and what they had talked about with the others. After all, they were away for only a few minutes, as far as others were concerned.
They returned just in time for the next lesson, sparing them some interrogation, at least for a while. That came later, on the way to dinner.
"What did that unspeakable want from you?" Ron asked.
"It just wanted to check my forehead to make sure it was properly healed." They had already thought of an answer while away.
"And why did she go with you?" Ron insisted, referring to Hermione.
"We enjoy each other's company, and she's also more observant than I. She could tell the unspeakable things I didn't notice."
"But what treatment was that?"
"I'm sure I told you. They healed my scar, see?" Harry lifted his bangs, exposing a scar-free forehead.
Ron just grumbled unintelligibly.
–..–
Harry didn't think anybody normally got mail after dinner, but he was wrong this time, as Hermione had told him. Some Slytherin students were missing at breakfast, the next morning, all with parents who had been marked as Death Eaters. Not many, though.
It changed when the mail owls arrived. Quite a few owls arrived with black envelopes. Most headed to the Slytherin table. Some went to Ravenclaw, and a few went to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Neither Harry nor Hermione doubted the meaning of these letters.
They got their confirmation moments later, when the owls carrying the Daily Prophet arrived a bit later than usual, with the headline declaring, "Tens Of Respectable Purebloods Mysteriously Died Last Night".
–..–
As confident as Dumbledore felt the first day of his arrest, he started to lose that confidence as his time in the holding cells got longer. The arresting Aurors were thorough in finding every magical aid he'd hidden in his robes and on his body. They found and removed the artificial tooth that had an emergency wand shrunk inside it. They even plucked the pubic hair he'd turned into a portkey. It wouldn't have helped him much anyway. The whole wing where the holding cells were located was under heavy wards that prevented apparition, portkey, elf-popping, and phoenix travel. He was stuck there until his trial. And the DMLE seemed to take its time with that.
He'd been interrogated multiple times. He was sure some of them were under Veritaserum, but he couldn't remember. Had they learned to use obliviation the same way he'd done very often?
He thought that Minerva, at least, would visit him there, but she didn't. Could she have found the spells and potions he'd used on her? Unlikely! But what was the cause, then?
For a change, they brought him the Daily Prophet along with his breakfast that day, the morning after Beltane.
Eager for any news, he took the newspaper that somebody had probably read earlier, since it was folded with the back page visible instead of the front one. He unfolded it and turned it the right side up. He then wished he hadn't. The headline was like another accusation directed at him: "Tens Of Respectable Purebloods Mysteriously Died Last Night".
He quickly read all the information he could find in the paper. There wasn't much. The facts were few and simple. The previous day, close to sunset, all the victims, who were all found to bear the Dark Mark, collapsed in tremendous pain and died within a few minutes. There was no official explanation. One reporter suggested it could signify the final demise of the Dark Lord since no body was found at the time.
Albus couldn't accept that explanation. True, he had never thought the Dark Lord was fully dead, suspecting he had a few Horcruxes, but that prophecy clearly stated that only Harry Potter could vanquish the Dark Lord and only 'by his hand', which clearly meant a close, possibly physical duel. This just couldn't be true!
Yet if that wasn't true, what could have killed all the marked Death Eaters, including the ones in Azkaban and a few detained for interrogation? Albus could find no plausible explanation. The more he thought of that, the less he could understand it. That almost drove him crazy. He also feared it was bad for his health, but he could do nothing to change it. Was this newspaper a kind of torture for him? Was it even true?
Albus sat on his cot, staring at the headline and forgetting to even eat his breakfast.
–..–
Dumbledore was put on trial a few days later. His testimony under Veritaserum was used as evidence of his crimes, with additional testimonies by Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva McGonagall, Sirius Black, Harry Potter, and even Petunia Dursley, who was only brought to testify about how Harry had been left on her doorstep. The prosecution also presented verbal testimonies by the late Severus Snape, along with some memories he had given, all under Veritaserum.
Dumbledore knew there was no way he would step out of the courtroom as a free man. Some of the proven accusations carried a mandatory sentence to Azkaban. A few carried even harsher punishment. And he couldn't claim any favours either. He knew he was doomed.
Albus was spared the veil or the Dementor kiss and was sentenced to 'only' twenty years in Azkaban. He knew he wouldn't last even two.
–..–
Three days later, Harry was fascinated by the newspaper's headline. "Dumbledore tried to escape on his way to Azkaban. His phoenix refused to help him".
It looked like Dumbledore tried to call his phoenix while on the boat to Azkaban, where there were no wards to prevent phoenix travel. Fawkes, his phoenix, arrived as requested, but only looked at the old man sadly, chirped a sad and condescending melody and vanished in a ball of fire, also singeing the old man's beard.
A few weeks later, Hermione found a small report on one of the inner pages. "Dumbledore died of heart failure in Azkaban. His cadaver was buried at sea". She didn't bother to read the details. It was clear that the old man had already lost any respect he had tried to gain his whole life. He'd be only a side note in the history books, a very unflattering side note.
None of the staff members mentioned Dumbledore at the meals. Years later, the Potters would find out that no portrait of Albus Dumbledore ever appeared in the Headmaster's office.