"Behind every great fortune there is a crime." - Balzac
"Come out, Bagman, I have you cornered. No use running away from me now. Cough up the gold," the creature ventured its voice towards the empty deserted alley.
This creature, unusually short-sized with long pointed ears and nose, a thin frame, long fingers, pale brown skin, a rather roughed up look and, was surprisingly, spectacles, tried to speak with an air of fear and confidence at the same time, and ended up messing up in both disciplines, which was evident from its voice as it called out to someone named Bagman in the deserted alleyway.
There was no reply.
The creature weighed its chances. Bagman is a wizard, he's got a wand, and I'm out of support. 99 chances to one that I'll survive.
A laugh echoed past the creature's ears in a tone of utmost mockery.
"You have me cornered? I think it's the other way around. Without your Goblin thugs, you are no threat to a wizard like me. Besides, if the Ministry finds out that you have been threatening a senior official like me, your clan is going to be sorry indeed."
I need to breathe; these goblins have already given me a rough day, Bagman was thinking. And who are these goblins getting tip offs from about my whereabouts?
"You and your ministry are the greatest degenerates this world has ever the misfortune of meeting," snarled the Goblin.
"Flattery will get you nowhere," said Bagman. "Dear, dear Goblin, all alone in a deserted alley. Go away from here, for I am generous enough to see that you don't end up like those other Goblins I've killed today."
"You treacherous fiend, what did you do to them?" The gruff voice was more shrill than threatening, hinting at pain even though the face was impassive.
"Oh, nothing much. Just rid them of their misery. Doses of Unforgivable Curses brought out the worst music from them." He laughed a totally cruel laugh that made the Goblin sweat.
The Goblin squinted in every direction to catch a glimpse of Bagman by following the source of his voice as he spoke. Well, if he's got a wand then I had better arm myself, it thought and pulled out a long stick.
It looked like what the Italians would call a Lupara, a heavy gun. The Goblin fired some random shots into the alley, hoping he would get lucky.
"Expelliarmus," Bagman's voice was heard and the heavy gun was sent flying to kiss dirt the ground.
I'm doomed, the Goblin thought.
The man the Goblin had called Ludo emerged from the black foliage of the alley. He looked like a well-built person slightly gone to seed, and there was a smug expression on his childish face.
He rearranged his features to look more serious, stern and threatening. His wand was still aimed at the Goblin.
"You vile piece of scum! You don't even have a wizard's honour, you coward!" the Goblin scoffed, showing bravery even though he was defenceless.
"Say what you like; my Goblin 'liaison' ends tonight with your death."
"Asta la vista, ugly." He prepared himself.
Suddenly, something terrifying happened. Everything in the alley had attained only one lost all colour but one.
Black. Everything went pitch black.
Cold, mirthless laughter filled the street and also the voids of fear inside Bagman.
Who the hell is that? No, there's no way ... that Potter boy killed him ...
"NO, it's not possible! The Dark Lord is dead!" Bagman's screams erupted through the street.
The Goblin seized the opportunity and hid himself behind a big trashcan, thinking pretty much along the same lines as Bagman when it came to their present predicament.
A rough gust of the cold autumn air and a gentle rustle of decaying leaves revealed a hooded figure.
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
The confidently spoken word sent Bagman's wand flying and reaching into the indistinct boundary of black.
"Paralia."
What the hell was that?
I can't move; he's paralyzed me. Move, darn it, move your stupid legs!
He's coming this way ... Bad day, really bad day.
A masculine voice spoke.
"It is clear that people like yourself, Ludo Bagman, never shall have the bravery to face your problems like a man."
"You are just like your other Ministry pals. Corrupt beyond measure, deluded, foolish and pathetic," He spat the mysterious voice.
Bagman froze. "Who are you?"
"Not the Dark Lord, if that answers some of your worthless questions."
Who is this guy? He's giving me the creeps.
"What do you want with me?" stuttered Bagman.
"It might please me if I to kill you."
"No, please, no, I beg you ..."
"Fortunately, I require something from you."
"Please, spare me, and I'll do anything," Bagman begged.
"Listen, Ludo, I'll make you an offer you can't refuse."
"An offer?" What is he playing at?
"Pay the money back to the Goblins and give a confession to the papers about the deceptive ways in which you acquired a small fortune of about – if my memory serves me correctly – 525 Galleons. If you do this, you will be spared." For tonight at least, Bagman.
"But how? I don't have any money ... and what confession do you want? I haven't done anything wrong."
"Liar," the man hissed.
Ludo trembled. How could he possibly know?
"What happened to the money you and your brother Otto stole through the Ministry?
Ludo tried but failed to speak in a threatening voice but without avail.
"Steal? Me? What are you saying, you street monger?"
"Crucio!"
Bagman writhed and shrieked in pain. When his twitching subsided, the man spoke again. "Speak ill of me once again and I will show you no mercy.
"You want to know how you cheated others of the money? Let me enlighten you: the Diagon Alley shop rents."
Ludo's heart skipped a beat. He knows ...
"It was two per cent of the profit from every shop. You raised it to five per cent without notifying the Ministry. You even forged the signatures of the entire Wizengamot to show everyone in Diagon Alley that the rents had been raised.
"You have done this for the past two years, by greasing palms to prevent higher authorities from knowing. You have illegally because of this cheated the shop owners in Diagon Alley by 200 galleons a year." The man paused. Bagman was silent.
"And what about the Quidditch league bookings?" the stranger continued. "The Magpies against Tornados game, a hundred Galleons if they let the Tornados win. Same for the Ballycastle Bats and the Appleby Arrows match."
Impossible. Only the Magpies and Arrows' captains knew about this, besides myself.
"The booking was a success for both matches. Your bet on the Tornados' and the Bats' victory won you a profit of 225 Galleons. I know I'm right."
Bagman's legs gave in. He slumped to the ground. Azkaban, here I come, hethought grimly.
Two other hooded figures glided into the alley and moved in the direction of the dark man's pointed finger, which was gesturing towards a dazed and profusely sweating Bagman.
One held Bagman's hands while the other uncorked a small bottle and forced the contents down Bagman's throat. Bagman offered no resistance; he just looked too confused after taking in everything that had taken place so far that evening.
The hooded man walked forward towards Bagman.
"Are you under the influence of Veritaserum?"
"Yes" Bagman replied, speaking the truth after a long time in his life.
"Did you kill all those Goblins like you said to Mesrac here?"
"No. I killed only two."
The Goblin came out of hiding then, all his fears gone. He showed himself to this man. For some reason, he found that he trusted this wizard completely, his first experience of that though this was the first time such a thing happened.
He knows my name.
"Wizard, how do you know my name?"
"Where are they?" the wizard asked Bagman, ignoring the Goblin.
"Knockturn Alley, under a sealing charm."
"The truth of Your Diagon Alley embezzlement and your other significant malpractices – were they all true?"
"Yes."
"Take him away, Mesrac. My men will help you," said the hooded wizard.
"Who are you, stranger?" asked Mesrac, who was impressed much against his will despite himself.
"Even though I do not practice the Dark Arts, stealth and violence is the only way I see fit to help others and fulfil my wishes in the process," the stranger explained. "The corrupt officials in the government now have free reign since the death of the Dark Lord, and are now they're in full action. I want the common wizard to understand this. That is all.
"Please consider me an ally who asks for your hand of friendship, as we share common theories about our 'effective administration' and the mob mentality, and the lies they propagate amongst my unsuspecting brethren, claiming superiority and faking control."
"Thank you for your help, my clan will truly be indebted to you," answered the Goblin. "I am honoured to be in your presence. May I at least know your name?"
"Call me Don and I will respond. Our friendship is just the beginning of mayhem for the Ministry of Magic." He still did not show his face to the Goblin. "I have lost faith in them for quite some time ago, and now, I work for their downfall. I have no other malicious intentions of absolute control or for the Dark Arts to flourish of the dark arts. I want to prove to all magical folk that this administration is pathetic and unworthy of people's support. Can I count on you for help?"
"Yes, Don, certainly, anytime."
"My men will stay and help you unload this garbage –" He pointed at Bagman, "– here is an extra bottle of Truth Potion to help you in your investigation. After it is done, my men will erase some of his memories. Goodbye for now."
Having said this, the Don Disapparated.
I sent that tip-off at the right moment. I now have the unbelievable support of the Goblins. With them, I can do a lot, the Don thought.
"Yes," said Mesrac bemusedly, thinking, My head hurts. Too many facts in one night. Who are you really, Don? Why didn't you face me?
At that moment, all memories of Ludo Bagman were mysteriously wiped from Mesrac's head.
-
The Don Apparated into a candlelit hall, very spacious and majestic. He was a wealthy man.
Another hooded figure approached him.
The Don spoke.
"Bring Bagman back here after they have wiped his mind. He still needs to confess to the papers. Put him under the Imperius Curse. Contact the necessary people and make sure this news is in tomorrow's paper. Oh, and good night, Neville."
So began the story of the underworld in the realms of the magical society. The Cosa Nostra of the wizarding world.
The fact that even though the Dark Lord was dead, the people were yet to see the light was the Don's greatest grief.
So many things to do, so little time ...