Chapter 1: A Warning in the Court
The dungeon was dark enough that the figures, quite high atop benches, were but mere outlines; cast as shadows with the torches behind them. The figures, despite wearing deep purple robes with a slightly comical 'W' on their chests, gave off a distinctly sinister feel as they looked down upon a trembling man standing in the center of the room. An authoritative looking man in the middle of the front row opened his mouth and called out.
"Relius Bernard Finch," he said, his voice carrying enough that it reverberated around the room. "You have been caught in the act of stealing an item of distinct importance to Wizarding kind."
Finch seemed to not hear these words, and instead swayed gently from side to side with his eyes closed, as if in distress. Another man, directly to the right of the man speaking raised his eyebrows and peered inquisitively at Finch over his half-moon spectacles.
The authoritative man continued, "This item is of such great importance..." his voice raised slightly for emphasis. "That the Wizengamot cannot pass judgement on this alone, and must meet with the International Confederation of Wizards to discuss these happenings."
At this Finch began to mutter wildly to himself as he wrung his hands while his eyes, usually so dark almost seemed to shine in the shadows.
The accuser continued as if there was nothing out of the ordinary.
"You will be kept in the wizarding prison Azkaban until we have decided on a course of action." He nodded curtly towards three tall cloaked figures.
The Azkaban guards moved, glided, towards Finch and led him toward the door and out of the dungeon.
Finch's mutterings grew steadily louder as he was dragged towards the doorway, and finally he turned around so all could see his eerily bright eyes.
"Failed!" Finch rasped. "I have failed"
"Get this filth out of my sight!" spat the accuser in the middle, now standing.
But Finch was not to be silenced, he managed to escape momentarily from his guard's clutches, and flung himself onto his knees in the center of the room where he once stood.
"Please listen to me! They must know! We cannot delay any longer!"
"Get him OUT"
Now the rest of the Wizengamot were murmuring among themselves, spurred out of their silence by the agitation Finch had caused.
"You must heed my words! the Staff must be broken!" Finch pleaded, his voice no longer raspy but laden with fear.
The man with the half moon glasses seemed to move almost imperceptibly towards Finch, as if peering closer to him.
The guards seized Finch and made to take him from the room, but there was no fight left in him. Perhaps Finch had expanded all of his energy in his first escape because as soon as the guards touched him, he sagged and his head fell forwards; lolling.
The Wizengamot was in real agitation now, almost everyone was talking and throwing backward glances at where Finch stood. Everyone but the man with the half moon spectacles and the the accuser.
The accuser stood up and quickly strode from the room, without even calling a dismissal to the court. The man with the spectacles spent another minute or two sitting without moving, and then swiftly followed suit.
With the two, leaders of the court gone the rest of the Wizengamot began to babble in earnest. They left the courtroom still discussing the surprising turn of events.
Meanwhile, the man with the spectacles continued his long stride down the corridor. Now out of the darkness, his features were thrown into the light. He had a crooked nose and brilliant, intelligent blue eyes behind his glasses. His tall figure was punctuated with a sweeping auburn beard and reddish-brown long hair. The wrinkles and occasional stripes of gray in his long hair gave the impression that he had recently come under quite a bit of stress. The man looked quite unsurprised, but politely pleased, when another man had appeared to his right as he walked.
This new arrival seemed to be walking in the shadow as he was swathed in darkness, but there was no light to cast one. Because of this, his features could not be discernable, but he was very large with a muscular frame and he walked almost imperiously with his head held high, as if he was descended from a line of royalty and no one but he knew. He began to talk without turning towards the man with the spectacles.
"Morning, Albus." he said lightly, indicating a closeness between the two.
Albus smiled, "I assume you were present the entire time?"
"Yeah." he had a noticeably different accent than Albus.
"But of course you knew what would occur." Albus continued, the smile still playing on mouth, as if sharing an inside joke.
"Well, yeah. Although to be honest I'm more revisiting this period. I've been here once before you see."
"Pensieve? Or... other means?"
"Other means." the man said firmly.
The two walked in silence a ways.
"I guess this is where I leave you Albus," the man said finally. "Arnold is right around the corner and he wants to have a word with you."
And with that, he disappeared.
Sure enough a man with a well trimmed grey beard and hair was waiting outside just around the corner with his arms folded and a cross look on his face. The accuser.
"Can you believe this Dumbledore?" said the man incredulously, clearly uninterested in engaging in any kind of pleasantries. "First Grindelwald only two years prior and now this! Well these incidents can't be unrelated I say!"
Albus Dumbledore nodded silently in acknowledgment of his words, while not letting Arnold in on his opinions of the matter.
Arnold continued his bluster. "There'll be those who put this up to be some crackpot but I know better! That bastard must be getting word out somehow from Nurmengard, telling Finch to steal the staff!" he paused for breath. "God knows why he wants it though, probably something to do with 'For the Greater Good' and all that rubbish."
Dumbledore made a slight jerk of his head.
"But Dumbledore.." Arnold turned towards him. "You realize this means that the blasted Staff will have to be moved don't you?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Yes I am afraid that is inevitable."
"Well the Americans will be hounding you for it in the Confederation tomorrow. I'm afraid we might not have much of a choice but to leave it in their protection. Shame really. These days they're taking everything of value, that Staff and the Philosophers Stone were the only things we truly had left. I dont suppose as the Supreme Mugwump you could stop them?"
Dumbledore sighed yet again. "We shall see Arnold, we shall see.."
And with that the two wizards walked away. The walls of the hallway closed in and the floor fell away.
And 70 years later, Darius woke up with a splitting headache as he gasped for air like he hadn't been breathing all night.