Hogwarts, the office of the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The flames in the fireplace bathed the entire circular room in a warm orange glow.
The air held the faint scents of old book pages, dried herbs, and Chinese plum wine.
Douglas had just finished the final adjustments to the latest round of psychological models for the Forest of Delusions. Those tangled lines of logic had now become a clear, perfect star chart in his mind.
The Two-Way Mirror on the desk flashed.
Sirius's handsome face appeared. He said nothing, merely making a crisp "all done" gesture, his smile carrying the slyness of a Marauder who had pulled off a prank.
Douglas gave a slight nod, and the mirror dimmed.
He knew.
At this moment, in that ostentatious office at the Ministry of Magic in London, Scrimgeour's detailed yet contradictory assessment report should already be sitting on Fudge's desk.
That report was like a carefully wrapped bomb.
It would show Fudge enormous benefits while making him sense a deadly risk.
Greed and fear would tear savagely at each other inside him like two venomous snakes.
And a perfect hunter never chased his prey.
All he needed to do was point out what looked like the safest "escape route" when his prey was at its most panicked.
An escape route that led to a trap.
Douglas rose, walked to the fireplace, and tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the flames.
"London, Holmes residence."
Green flames surged up, swallowing his figure in an instant.
The next second, he stood in the tidy study of his London home.
He changed out of his professor's robes and into a well-tailored dark suit, which made him look more like a scholar from the Muggle World.
From the bottom drawer of his desk,