The Beginning And The End
A small, grey-haired woman stood with her back to a large window hung with ornate drapes. The last drops of sun fell through the window and splashed on a large ornate desk and the many paintings on the wall, all of older men and women. Next to the window stood a man, about forty years of age, with an experience-hardened face. Despite his obvious ability to think on his feet, he seemed a little at lost for words and rather apprehensive.
The witch sighed, "You know what you have to do. We've been planning this for three years. There's nothing else we can do." Though the woman had clearly seen many, many years, her voice was strong and commanding. The man nodded and stood-if possible-at even greater attention. He was an Auror, one of the first. He had been trained and taught for the past three years with the purpose of defeating a new threat. The woman was the Minister of Magic.
The Ministry of Magic is a ministry of witches and wizards who take care of the magical side of running England, along with the Prime Minister. The muggle Prime Minister, that is. A muggle is a non-magical human.
They were standing in her office. The new threat was a wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort, and he was gathering followers and causing trouble, and not just any trouble. Mysterious things were happening to muggles, half-bloods (wizards or witches who had one parent that was magical and one that wasn't), and Squibs (people who should have had magical ability because they came from two magical parents, but unfortunately did not). Not only were these people tortured, ridiculed, and experimented on, but they were also being killed. The British government didn't know how to handle these magical attacks, and the Ministry needed to do something.
The small witch turned, revealing a small, golden object on a silky gold chain held with great reverence. She ceremoniously held it out towards the man, "Fifty turns." She took a deep breath. "Fifty turns should do."
"So early?" asked the man as he took the chain and dropped it over his head. "He was only a child then!"
"We must choke the weed before it grows," the Minister replied with a pained expression on her face. "Just get in there, do what you need to do, and get out."
"Yes, Minister," the Auror replied.
The Minister's calm broke for a moment. "God be with you Durant."
"And with you Millicent," he whispered, "I'll write a note. You'll know where it is." He swallowed, and then lifted up the small hourglass that hung on the end of the chain. With an air of great solemnity, he turned it back once, the twice. And then realizing how long it would take to do that fifty times, he gently began to spin it, always carefully counting. After a second there was a soft whoosh and he was gone.
The Minister sighed and collapsed into the chair behind her desk. "It's our only chance," she whispered to the paintings on the wall, as if to convince both them and herself, "Our only chance."
Two minutes later there was a loud and insistent pounding at the door.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she grumbled, rising heavily from her chair. The pounding came again, louder and sounding furious. "I'm coming!" she yelled and threw open the door. There was her secretary, fist raised to knock again, looking slightly apologetic, and a bit out of breath. "Sorry miss, but I just remembered. When I was younger, before I worked for you, a man, a man who, now that I think about it looked very much like Mr. Durant. Perhaps it was his father, or cousin, or maybe even his uncle. He was very scruffy looking, and actually quite scary, but-."
"What did this man do, Effie?" snapped the Minister rather impatiently.
"Oh, well, he gave me this letter, and he said to deliver it to you, well, today, actually. And of course at the time I had no idea who he was or what he was talking about, but I thought I'd keep it, you know? I was young then, and it sounded like a fantastic adventure. And I had no idea who you were, but for some reason the date and time always sort of stuck in my head, and I just realized that he meant for me to give it to you today! Isn't that just romantic? Oh I hope-."
"Thank you, Effie, that will be all," said the Minister impatiently plucking the note from the woman's hand.
"Oh, of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you; I know you said you had important business to do today, so I'll just be getting back to my desk. Oh I just wish I knew what was in that letter. You know…." Her voice was shutout as Millicent closed her office door and, still staring at the note, sat down slowly at her desk. Then with a great reverence, even fear, she carefully opened it. On it were seven words: "It failed. I cannot tell you more." She had no doubt as to who it was from, or to what it was referring to.