The Wizarding Siege
Chapter 2: The Undead
13th January, 1851, somewhere North-West.
'Hide it! They're coming!' came a frantic, hushed whisper from outside the room. "It's the Sepoys!"
'Honestly, Amrit. I don't exactly understand all the fuss. We have a wand and we have trained ourselves well over the years. I think we should show them what we are capable of today.' spoke a voice from a small crack in the doorway.
'Don't be a fool, Gaurav. Just grab the wand and escape from the back door. The Sepoys might be bright, but they won't suspect someone as poor as us to be in the possession of a wand. Go, now!'
Silence descended. Amrit put his ears on the door and listened intently. Gaurav had better done as he had instructed him to. Twenty four year old Amrit glanced toward the front door of his house and waited.
BANG
'Open the doors! We are here in the name of the Minister!' came a high pitched voice from outside the door.
Time for showdown. Amrit smirked.
'Outrageous, the way the government is handling the Community!' barked my father at the flustered Sepoys on the duty. The Sepoys had come to the Shoor residence, my house, under the new Amendment of the Ministry of Magic to search for any illegal possessions of a wand at my house. My brother, Gaurav and I had anticipated their arrival ever since we were informed about the new Wand Search Warrant Act.
In many of the provinces of India, there had been a dire shortage of Wizards and Witches who studied and excelled at Wandlore. As a result, the making and trading of wands proved to be really expensive – both for the government and the commoners. An ideal Ministry would have devised innovative educational plans and reforms in order to tackle this scarcity. Our Ministry, on the other hand, considered it prudent to deprive the lower class Wizarding families of the right to Wandlore.
According to the Basic Guidelines to The Ministry of Magic, anyone working as or under the Minister of Magic has to make sure that each and every one of the Magical citizens are in possession of a wand. They are also required to help the commoners financially if the need arises. Since a large concentration of the magical community in India had been racially discriminated and seen as unfit for cultivation of their magical abilities, they found it really hard to have a stable income. As a result, most of them were forcefully dependent on the Ministry of Magic to acquire a wand, which is the most suitable instrument to channel one's magic. This caused a significant decline in the Ministry's treasury. To tackle this problem, the newly elected Minister of Magic declared a government order in 1834 which stated that the lower class Wizarding families would be deprived of the right to Wandlore. This loopehole enabled the Ministry to not spend half of their funds on trying to buy wands for their community.
Since 1834, only the Half-Bloods and the Pure-bloods were given the right to Wandlore and the rest of the Wizarding community in India cultivated their magic through much weaker and less stable instruments such as pitch-forks and poorly carved staffs.
What neither the Ministry nor any of my family members, except Gaurav and I, knew was that we had been in possession of a wand since I was just five years old.
In those days, we had no instrument to channel our magic, and we spent our childhood leading almost the same life as muggles.
We were deep-neck in a forest and had found the wand half-buried in the rich soil. Consider it thievery, but we had grabbed it and had escaped faster than a Hippogriff set loose.
And thus we had become the only possessors of a wand in our family and in about whole of the North-West.
We often stayed up late; woke up early, the next morning and constantly worked harder and harder in order to grasp the concept of Magical education that had been off-limits to us.
'There is nothing outrageous in this. We are just doing what we are supposed to do.' One of the Sepoys, with a large mustache, spoke with a leveled and trained voice.
'You are supposed to protect your Magical community! Not become a puppet in the hands of the Minister of Magic!' My father barked, yet again. This is fun – as long as Gaurav doesn't do anything stupid.
'What is the matter here?' Came the crisp voice of a third man dressed in grey robes.
'Why aren't you searching the interior of the house?' He addressed the two men.
'We were going to, sir. We're just informing the old man about the reason as to why we are here.' The smaller one spoke in a low voice.
'Then do it quickly.' The man in grey continued in a low voice, 'There are about forty three wizarding families in this town that we have to address. Do your duty, men.'
He turned on his heel and left. The two Sepoys looked at each other.
'Just do it.' One of them barked at the other.
The smaller one kicked the door open (with great difficulty) and yelled, 'Accio Wand!'.
Nothing happened. I laughed. The Sepoys looked at me with disdain and then exchanged glances. 'Is that all we're going to do?' The smaller one asked.
'Look at the state of them.' He pointed to my shirtless abdomen and my father's tattered and shabby robes. 'Do they look like someone who would carry a wand with them? This is all we're going to do! We don't have enough time to waste on them!' Said the guy with a moustache and proceeded to leave. That was before my father blocked his way.
'Now, sir, who exactly do you think you are?' My father said, eyes wild and arms outstretched in an attempt to block the Sepoys' attempt to walk away.
'Get out of my way, old man. Don't hurt yourself.' They warned. I realized that it would turn ugly if I didn't intervene any sooner. The Sepoys were known for their patience but they were a part of the racial hierarchy and any attempt to drag them down that chain would result in retaliation.
I seized my father by his robes and struggled to pull him indoor.
'Clever move, boy.' The Sepoy spat and left.
Unfortunately the smaller one was left behind and once again became the focus of my father's rage.
'DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?' My father roared.
'You are Yogya Shoor – father of two, Amrit and Gaurav Shoor.' The smaller Sepoy spoke with much more confidence, his fingertips reaching out for his wand.
'Yogya Shoor – that is my name!' My father said with a hint of madness in his eyes.
'I am the same person who had helped the Ministry contain the loose Hungarian Horntail ten years ago! Without me wand! With just a staff, I contained him and helped your worthless badge keep their honor, you ungrateful...'
I jumped in front of my father as the Sepoy pulled out his wand and pointed it to his chest.
Several seconds passed till the Sepoy finally collected himself. He gave us a look of deepest loathing and muttered, 'Filthy mudbloods. What did you do with the cane you call a Staff, poke them?' He spat and left. I turned around, panting and looked at my father. He had tears in the corner of his eyes.
I hugged him and whispered, 'I promise that it's going to be fine. Someday, someday…'
15th January, 1851. Ministry of Magic, India
'Sir, according to the executive of the Investigational Department of the Sepoys, we have acquired only three illegal wands all across the different provinces.'
'To be honest, I expected that my reforms would leave none of them in the possession of a wand.' The Minister frowned.
The other occupant of the room kept quiet.
'Where are the ones who have disobeyed me?' The Minister enquired, with no hint of amusement or interest.
'They are being questioned by the authorities as we speak.'
'Are they being tortured.' The Minister asked.
'Only if required, Minister.'
The Minister nodded, 'Call in the Press. I need to address the nation about the wrongdoings of those who have disobeyed and the success of my reforms. I would not be complacent. This community is unpredictable. I need them to keep me in their good books. Also bring in the best trained Sepoys to the conference. I like my protection, thank you very much.'
'Yes, Minister.'
'…in the years to come, the magical community of our nation would know this reform as the one that kept their pride alive. You call this segregation? I call this a step towards advancement. Survival of the fittest is what evolves human beings into the better persons they hold within. It is for the Ministry to uncap their potential and this is exactly what I aspire to do!'
The Minister finished his one hour long press conference and proceeded to leave.
'How did it sound?' The Minister enquired, his voice purposeful.
'It was really goo-'
'Perfectly delivered, Minister. I could detect no flaws or hatred in your words.' Cut in the smooth voice of Arcturus Black.
'Arcturus.' The Minister greeted stiffly, 'To what do I owe this brilliant young gentleman the pleasure?'
'The same old Wizarding business, Minister. It seems that the Malfoy family is need of another one of your delegates to – ah – attend to their personal chores.' He continued on with the same smoothness.
'Are you mad!' The Minister began in a hushed whisper, 'Have not I told you that such business should only be discussed in my office?'
'Ah yes, I had forgotten. Forgotten that you are not merely as powerful to do as you wish, even after being the Minister of Magic. You have to do it within the confines of your special reserve that you call an office. Forgive me, Minister.' He sneered
The Minister ignored him and continued on towards his office. Black followed him, amusement itched within every inch of his face.
'You do not have to follow me. Your job to deliver the message is over. I would address the Malfoys myself.' The Minister spoke haughtily.
'Oh but there are several other things that I need to discuss, Minister.'
'And they would be..?'
'The Minister of Magic of our nation has decided to intervene on your lack of… gesture should we say, towards the lower class wizarding families. They are not quite a fan of your recent – innovations – as you say… They have made pleas for you to reorient all the governmental policies and revise your Constitution. Although this is just a formal proposal at this point, the play of pride could very well turn this into a fully-fledged war in no time at all. You are not the only one with a pride, Minister. I may or may not have something to do with this.' Black barked a laugh.
'Leave.' The Minister ordered, his voice colder than ever.
'I'm sorry?' Black had lost his laughter.
'You heard me.'
The Minister stopped. So did Black. And so did the dozen Sepoys surrounding them, wands pointing at Black.
Black gave a look of pity to the Minister and left.
But not before announcing, 'You would have to empty your office before the next term, Minister. I shall make sure of it. I shall make sure that your office is turned into a shattered ruin.'
At this very moment, somewhere far off, an old man could be seen wielding a long Staff with very precise movements, blasting off the rocks with unbelievable accuracy.
The Ministry of Magic of India was in trouble.
