A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
A New Alliance
Minevra McGonagall paced her office—her new office that is to say. She moved her things to the High Office the past evening but had hardly slept a wink. It had been a disturbingly quiet week in terms of the war against Voldemort. Amelia and Kingsley were making strides and felt confidant that many of the hidden Death Eaters and sympathizers had been removed from the Ministry. But, like McGonagall, they were surprised there was no violent upheaval. Many people simply vanished one day and never reappeared. Why would Voldemort not order an attack if he felt his remaining followers were being flushed out of hiding? Why not make a bid for the Ministry?
If there were any answers to be had, Snape would be the man to discover them. But not even he had been able to ascertain the true intentions of Voldemort's apparent surrender or his lack of other activity. He had left last evening for a meeting. McGonagall hoped he would return with some answers.
And it was not only concerns relative to the war that were on her mind. She had to prepare the school for Dumbledore's funeral, which would take place in two days. She also needed to retool the curriculum and find a new Defense professor. And she needed to at least determine a way to train Potter and more advanced applications of magic, defensive and offensive, light and dark. She knew he was a prodigious talent and there was great power raging inside him. But he would not be able to stand against Voldemort in a duel, let alone most of his Death Eaters. He escaped the Ministry with his friends most admirably but none of them took him seriously nor were they there to kill him. Both of those factors restrained how much effort they put into capturing him and his friends.
As she short-listed potential candidates for the Defense position, a bright ball of white light flew through her window and transformed into a beautiful doe in front of her desk.
Five seconds after this patronus disappears, take cover under your desk came the voice of Severus Snape and then the doe disappeared. McGonagall wasted no time diving under her desk. As she hid in relative darkness, fire burst to life and washed over her entire office, the noise deafening. But she did not feel the heat of the blast nor did the desk burn.
After fifteen seconds, the fire disappeared. McGonagall waited a few more seconds before emerging. As she pulled herself upright, Snape appeared, diving through the fire. "Stay that wand you blasted bitch," he bellowed, all the while making shushing motions. "Now…DAMN IT NO!" Snape waved his wand and the fireplace mantle exploded, blocking anyone from entering the office via the floo. For good measure he cast a number of wards over the rubble.
Then he turned and faced McGonagall. "I am sorry Minevra," he said. He wiped sweat off his brow and took a seat. "You may as well sit down. We don't have long but there is much I need to tell you."
"Severus, what was the meaning of all that," she asked.
"I suppose you may want to consider that my resignation," he said wearily. "The Dark Lord commanded me to kill you and assume control of Hogwarts."
McGonagall stared at him, eyebrows raised. "Why does he wish to kill me?"
"He wants Hogwarts," Snape said simply. "But he wanted you dead tonight. I tried to 'convince' him to let me stalk you, make the kill subtle and untraceable. He would have none of it. The fiendfyre was his and he thought it would open the door for me to attack you quickly and effortlessly."
"I assume he does not know you sent me the patronus."
Snape shook his head. "Of course not. But I knew the wards of the castle protected this room and it would keep you safe so long as you were not exposed. Now, we have maybe five more minutes before you and the other professors must chase me from the grounds."
McGonagall jerked her head, bewildered. "What are saying Severus?"
"You and the other professors must chase me from the grounds. After my failed assassination attempt, I daresay you would not wish to keep me on the staff." Snape got to his feet and paced I front of her desk. "But there is no time to explain this in more detail. Suffice it to say, I would never kill you but I must still remain in the good graces of the Dark Lord."
McGonagall nodded, understanding what he was saying. "I understand Severus. What is it you wish to tell me before we remove you from the grounds?"
"The Dark Lord removed his forces from the Ministry bloodlessly because he did not feel he could win a coup right now and wants to build his forces to take over a different objective."
"Hogwarts?"
Snape shook his head. "No, there is something else. I am not sure what location, but it is for a new headquarters. If I had to guess, he wants to take over Azkaban once and for all. With it under his control, he will not only free his own followers but it will be easy for him to convince the other criminals to join him in exchange for their freedom."
"That makes more sense than I wish it did," she said worriedly. "Do you have any idea when he plans to attack?"
"No, but it will be within two months. That is assuming it will be Azkaban. He will act sooner if it is something else, such a Slytherin's Keep or, for irony's sake, Riddle Manor. As I know more, I will tell you or someone in the Order."
"Fine. What other news do you bring?"
"Three tribes of Tibetan Yeti have migrated to Scotland. No one but his inner circle is aware of this mind you but it is a fact. He expects at least three more from the Canadian Rockies within the next week as well."
McGonagall's eyes widened. "He's bringing Yeti into this war." Then she thought about the beast. "That makes it more likely that he is thinking of attacking Azkaban. They are cold weather creatures, adept at storming island or mountain fortresses."
Snape nodded. "Yes they are, and that was the same fact that led me to believe he will attack Azkaban. But that is not all. Scabior has been traveling and returned for this meeting. He has been going around the world and putting out a message that Voldemort will offer sanctuary and bounties for criminals and assassins in England. There are already 200-300 foreign witches and wizards taking sanctuary in Malfoy Manor. Scabior expects 1000-1500 more will take the offer before the summer is over, which will make the situation here more perilous."
"So he is boosting his forces with foreign bounty hunters and creatures and, presumably, will soon make a bid to take over Azkaban, though there are other possible targets as well," she asked, recapping the finer points of his discussion. The Potions Master nodded. "Very well. Is there anything else?"
Snape shook his head. "No. I will return when I know more. Now, you need to send a distress patronus to the other professors and sound whatever alarms you need to so I can escape."
McGonagall frowned. "Severus, we do not need to make you a common enemy in the castle. The professors will keep the secret."
"But will the students," he asked sagely. "Do not worry about me Minevra. I have been hated before and I will not fret about it now. You can reveal the truth to the other professors if you wish, though I advise against that. But right now we must show that I am a criminal and you are taking strides to never let me in the castle again. Give me a thirty second head start and then have the others intercept me before I reach Gryffindor tower."
"Why Gryffindor tower? Severus, I do not wish to put students at risk."
"And we won't but Minevra, if I narrowly escaped you in a duel, I will know that the other professors will band together to capture me. What better option do I have than to kidnap a student, possibly Harry Potter? You will stop me of course, with the aid of the others. Then I will need to make my escape."
Snape looked at his watch. "We have taken too much time. Thirty seconds, than come intercept me." Snape raced out of the room and she heard him destroying the staircase and blasting the gargoyles out of the way. He was making a good show. She sent out a dozen patroni and then gave chase.
She reached the hallway leading to Gryffindor at the same moment as Professors Vector, Flitwick, and Burbage. Snape was dueling all three with effortless ease, even managing to send a number of curses at the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"You will do no murder here at Hogwarts," shouted Flitwick, charming suits of armor to attack Snape. The Potions Master cast fiendfyre, smelting the suits of armor and reforming them into daggers. The daggers spilt up and attacked a different professor. It was at this moment that Professors Babbling and Sprout appeared.
"You cannot stand against all of us Snape," Sprout shouted angrily, brandishing her wand.
"Perhaps not, but all of you cannot stand against me either. I am greater than any of you." He looked at McGonagall and sneered with a jerk of his head. "Your honor guard Headmistress. I may have not killed you before but I will now."
Snape waved his wand and a shroud of darkness consumed the hall. And for the second time this term, she felt others attacked while she was left unharmed. As the dark smoke cleared, she saw Snape standing in front of a classroom. "They will awake shortly, though they have been cursed with a spell that will slowly kill them." He threw McGonagall a vial of green-gray potion. "Sneak this into whatever potion Pomfrey gives them."
"How soon must they take the potion?"
"They will feel the effects within seconds of awaking but it will take a week to kill them. Still, I do not want their blood on my hands. This was an unfortunate part of the show and I trust you will give them the potion. The bottle is charmed to release the necessary amount each time you tip it. Now, we need to finish this duel."
He backed into the classroom as McGonagall sent a curse at him. He sent back a faux killing curse, which set a desk on fire in the classroom. Flitwick and Sprout pushed into the room and started firing curses at him. Snape cast several shield charms, scowling fearsomely. "This is not over," he ground out and then dissolved into a cloud of smoke and shot out the window.
"Come back you coward," McGonagall shouted, firing curses out the window. She found the shape of Snape reforming on the grounds just in front of the gates and then he was gone. She turned around and saw her colleagues leaning against desks or walls, all noticeably weaker. "We must get all of you to Poppy." She sent a patronus to the matron and conjured stretchers. Poppy arrived in time to help her push them to the hospital wing.
"What happened Minevra," she asked.
She had to make an effort to scowl. "Snape showed up in my office and tried to kill me. He failed but didn't know it. The others arrived and helped me run him off."
"Snape tried to murder you," she asked, her voice rising with each word. "But…but Dumbledore trusted him."
"Dumbledore, as events tonight proved, was wrong to do so. Now, please care for the professors Poppy." As Poppy turned around, McGongall cast the confundus charm on her while her back was turned. She caught the matron before she fell backwards and stood her up. "As part of your treatment, you will give them one does of this potion." She put the vial in her hand. "You will not ask how you came across this potion or why you are giving it. You will give each professor one dose."
Poppy nodded and then shook her head. "Sorry Minevra. Let's get the others to the wing."
"Yes Poppy."
The following morning, the school was buzzing with the news of Snape's attempted murder of the Headmistress and how the other professors ran him out of the castle. The Slytherin table was glaring at the Gryffindors and McGonagall at different stages while the Gryffindors and most of the other students glared at the Slytherins.
"Ladies and gentleman," she said, rising to her feet. "Before we eat this morning, I wish to tell you all about the events of last evening. Severus Snape, your former Potions professor, has been sacked." She frowned for effect as the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs burst into applause and the Slytherin's booed. "Now, the decisions of Severus Snape prove that he had never truly repented his actions from the first war. But the decisions of one person do not reflect the actions or belief of this school or any of her students. As Albus Dumbledore said last year, it is time for all of you to decide between doing what is right and what is easy."
"And these events will not interfere with the arrangements for Albus Dumbledore's funeral this Saturday." She paused to wipe her eyes. "Albus Dumbledore's greatest love was educating young minds and he cared deeply for every student. It is only fitting that he will be buried on the grounds, an eternal guardian of the school he loved so much. Your parents have been notified and, while the proceedings are not mandatory, the leaving feast is set for Saturday evening and your parents and our distinguished guests are invited."
She took a seat, leaving the students to dissect what she had said. Her fellow professors ate in relative silence as well. She was immensely grateful that the potion Severus provided worked so quickly. She was not happy to confound Poppy but that seemed a safer course than somehow trying to tamper with her healing potions against her knowledge.
After the feast, the students had a free day. McGonagall returned to her office, followed by Flitwick and Sprout, the only other faculty members who were active members of the Order of the Phoenix. The three professors flooed to Grimmauld Place. The kitchen was nearly overflowing as the entire Order (except Snape) waited for them to arrive. McGonagall surveyed the room and noticed several new faces: Oliver Wood, Penelope Clearwater, Amos and Anita Diggory, Xenophilius Lovegood, and Fleur Delacour among others.
"It is good to see all of you," she began before several people interrupted her, all saying they were glad she was all right and what a damnable bastard Snape was. She raised her hands. "Please, give me a moment to explain. First and foremost, I ask that what I am about to tell you stay in this room." Everyone gave his or her assent.
"Thank you. Last night, Severus Snape was ordered by You-Know-Who to murder me and take control of Hogwarts." Several voices grumbled and swore but the others shushed them so she could continue. "As you all know, he was run from the castle after attempting to break in Gryffindor tower."
"What you do not know is that he never made an attempt on my life. He forewarned me of a pending attack of fiendfyre by Voldemort which was supposed to weaken me so he could kill me."
"Why the hell did he try to kill the other professors," demanded Moody. Several people shouted the same question.
"He had to keep appearances in case any students saw him. It was he who gave me the potion to cure you all after he attacked. You-Know-Who had to be convinced that Snape did all he could to kill me but failed. He needs to stay in his good graces so that he can continue to pass on insider information. He position is now far more dangerous because before he could claim knowledge on the Order but now he must show himself to be completely and fully behind You-Know-Who."
She looked around the room and saw that many were still not convinced. "If there is any remaining proof you need, ask yourself why, after casting a curse on every other professor, he not only left me unscathed but forewarned me of the attack."
"Now, I will not spend any more time discussing Severus Snape's motives. I continue to trust him and ask that you keep this information, whether you believe it or not, to yourselves. The next order of business is the intelligence he gave me."
"Three tribe of Tibetan Yeti have arrived in Scotland, presumably to join hands with the Yeti in the mountains in Scotland, and are awaiting orders from Voldemort. Snape could not tell me exactly how many Yeti but he did say Voldemort expected at least another three tribes from the Canadian Rockies to migrate over before the week is out."
"Why would Voldemort need so many Yeti," asked Remus. "They are a very isolated species and, so far as I know, have limited magical abilities."
"The Yeti are a powerful, agile, and nomadic species," answered Dedalus. "Their hides are generally impervious to magic, like giants, but they are warriors. As to why he would enlist so many, I can only imagine he hopes to use them as enforcers in 'regular' sieges and battles. Giants would be useful against targets such as Hogwarts because they can overpower wards with the ferocity of their attacks. Yeti would do well if you need to siege a mansion or island fortress."
McGonagall nodded. "Thank you Dedalus. And that brings me to the next point. Severus believes that You-Know-Who wants a new Headquarters. Given his new desire to recruit Yeti, and his current relationship with giants, he suspects You-Know-Who is targeting Azkaban."
"Even if he wanted to attack Azkaban, he would need more than Yeti and giants," said Kingsley. "He would need several hundred followers, followers he does not have or is not willing to spare. Even a success would diminish his numbers too greatly to make it possible to hold the fortress if he overtakes it."
"And that brings us to the final piece of intelligence he offered. Scabior has been traveling across the world and passing along word to the criminal world that Voldemort will offer them sanctuary and bounties if they work for him. All ready 200-300 foreigners are holed up in Malfoy Manor with another 1000-1500 expected by the end of summer."
"So he is recruiting rogue elements to bolster his army. This can be dangerous if the wrong kind take his offer," said Arthur.
"Why wouldn't they," interrupted Bill angrily. "And he doesn't even have to stop with criminals. If he can overtake Azkaban, he'll may gain enough legitimacy with rogue governments around the world and they may declare war on Britain and support his rebellion."
"Amelia is working closely with the Americans, French, and Russians to secure troops and aurors from their nations to join our fight," said Kingsley. "The Americans are sending 200 aurors and 500 combat soldiers by the end of July. They say they may send more but it will depend on how well we hold out. The French will send 200 aurors as well while the Russians will commit 1000 combat soldiers. The Russians won't commit aurors yet and the French don't have a standing army so they can't commit soldiers. And, provided we show positive results, other countries may provide aid as well."
"So by the end of July, if everything comes as expected, what is an estimate of our forces," McGonagall asked Kingsley.
He looked up, doing the math in his head. "We'll have 4000 combat soldiers under a joint allied command and an additional 700 aurors. These are fully trained men and women. When Amelia's draft law goes into effect in two weeks, we will fill ranks and have an army composed of two corps by the end of the year. We also expect to train a division of aurors in that same time. This will not include the troops we have from abroad."
"But we now we know Voldemort is doing the same and that means this war will be far worse than his first bid for power. If he can raise a force to match what we expect to raise, this will be a war on the scale of Grindelwald's. Amelia hoped to overwhelm him this time around with sheer numbers. It looks like he is preparing for that and hopes to do the same."
Everyone fell silent. Few were old enough to remember the war with Grindelwald. McGonagall was the oldest in the room by seven years and she was fourteen when that war broke out. That was a different type of war than what Voldemort waged twenty years ago. At the peak of his power, Grindelwald commanded a military machine of 1.5 million combat soldiers and 600000 aurors. It was a conventional war, albeit a terrifying one.
Voldemort never commanded such a large force, nor did he show any inclination of wishing to do so. He was a terrorist and guerilla leader, incredibly knowledgeable in the ways of the Dark Arts and extremely ruthless in his approach of psycho-warfare. If he was branching out into conventional warfare, Kingsley was more right than he knew. This war would be unlike anything the country had ever seen.
Amelia Bones had only been minister for a little over a week. Had she known in advance the amount of paperwork that went into being Minister, she would never have applied for the position, much less taken it. That feeling wasn't entirely true of course because she had been Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But if she had thought that position was tedious in the scope of paperwork, it was nothing compared to being Minister.
Not that all the reports and briefings she read were tedious. Presently, she was reading a report from Julius Northcott, Head of the newly created weapons development unit in the Department of Mysteries. For all intents and purposes, WD was it's own department but Amelia knew, despite her best efforts, there were still Voldemort loyalists in the Ministry. Rather than risk a budget detailing WD developments falling into the wrong hands, she bundled their budget with the Department of Mysteries, which generally went unreported anyway because of the delicate nature of their experiments.
Northcott was perhaps one of the most brilliant engineers in the country. In addition to holding several commendations from the International Confederation of Wizards and numerous countries around the world, he went an unconventional route after Hogwarts: he earned advanced degrees in operational, electrical, and chemical engineering from Cambridge. When she created that department, he was a natural selection to lead it.
Apparently, his team had made strides in developing a new system of artillery based on muggle weaponry. There were several pictures in the report of different cannon along with descriptions of the device and how his team was repurposing it for magical warfare. One picture in particular caught her attention. It sat very low to the ground with a long, narrow rube connected to a rectangular casing. There was a handle on the back of the rectangle. She read the description, fascinated.
This is a .50 caliber M2 machine gun, one of the most popular designs in the muggle world. What you may not see is that the muggles load a magazine of ammunition—what they call bullets—into the chamber or feed in a belt of ammunition. I won't go into detail about the differences of direct impingement versus gas pistons. Suffice it to say, the former is much easier to handle and, because there is less interference, it can be manipulated and used to fire magazines of magical ammunition. The issue we are encountering is creating a magical magazine. But if we can crack that code, this will give one witch or wizard the firepower of ten.
Amelia let out an impressed breath. That would be something if they could perfect the magazine, whatever that was. She jotted down a note with a few questions about the machine gun and several pieces of the artillery. There were a few designs she thought were silly or repeats of others, based on his descriptions and how she envisioned them being used in battle. But there were a few she thought were potentially valuable.
"Percy," she shouted after she finished her notes. Percy entered her office and bowed stiffly.
"What can I do for you Minister?"
She folded the parchment and waved her wand over it for added protection. "Take this down to the Circle, quick as you can." Percy took the parchment, nodded and left. She watched him. He has all the warmth of a rock she thought. How he could come from a family like Weasleys was beyond her.
She spent the next fifteen minutes looking over other reports. Kingsley and Dirk had found a wonderful location for basic training for the draftees when her law was implemented. There was not a lot of open land in the country, as the Ministry was forced to deal with during the Quidditch World Cup. However, the new basic training facility for the army would be established in northeastern Richmondshire. There are a number of villas and manors in the district but that is predominately in central and western Richmondshire. They would locate the facility in the plains.
Now that they had a suitable place to build, they would need to begin construction as soon as possible. But she wanted further assistance before breaking ground. "Percy," she shouted again. "When is Ambassador Hadrod due to arrive," she asked after he closed the door.
"The goblins are still deliberating whether or not to assist the Ministry ma'am," he said stiffly. "I'm not sure…"
"No, that is not going to do at all," she said, cutting across him. She walked over to her fire, threw in a pinch of powder, and called out "Administer Griphook's office." Thankfully Griphook was at his desk. He looked bemused as her head came into being in his fire.
"Good morning Minister. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" There was a slight trace of ironic amusement in his voice but only a trace. Amelia greatly respected Griphook because he was, while incredibly loyal to his race and heritage, progressive in the ways goblins can advance society and within society. She preferred working with him generally. He was not in a position to guarantee anything but he held influence over those who could make things happen.
"Griphook, can I take a moment of your time?"
"Of course Minister."
She pulled her head out of the fire. "Percy, anyone besides Dirk, Kingsley, Alastor, or Professor McGonagall, who needs to see me will have to wait. If it is any of those four, please ask that they send a patronus to Gringotts." The boy nodded and left, after which she stepped into the fire and appeared in Griphook's office.
She half-nodded, half-bowed to Griphook. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I know how valuable your time is."
Griphook waved that away. "Minister, you can dispense with that nonsense. My time is no more valuable than yours." He leaned forward and gave her a conspiratorial wink. "I daresay I know why you wish to see me on such short notice as well. Your disappointed because his Excellency has not responded to your invitations." He leaned back and looked sly. "And what is it you think I can do for you?"
"Griphook, the Head of the DMLE and the Head of the Aurors…"
"I know that Dirk and Kingsley have secured a site on which you will build what I am sure will be a state-of-the-art training facility for when your draft law goes into effect. Dirk approached me and several others to help expedite the transaction." He pointed at a deed on his desk and it was indeed for the same plot that Dirk told her about.
She looked at him shrewdly. "Then surely you must know why I am here now," she said slowly.
Griphook smiled. Clearly he was enjoying himself. "Whatever do you mean Minister," he asked gently.
Amelia sighed but the lips of her mouth twitched upwards. This was a process and she understood as much as anyone that she needed to play the game before she could speak with Ragnuk II. "Griphook, I am here because I need the assistance of the goblin nation. More than that, the people of the United Kingdom need your assistance."
He leaned forward, bemusement gone and no form of expression on his face. "You understand that the goblin nation will not do anything, at present, that may draw us into a war between humans. We did not take part in Grindelwald's war nor did we take part in Voldemort's first push for power. We offer services to any who need our services, without prejudice."
"It is one of the most admirable traits of your people," she said. "But your people lost lives during his first bid for power. In his heart, he does not respect the goblins as…"
"Please do not infer that your people respect us either," he countered quickly, though with no malice. He was simply stating facts. "You people consider us beasts, creatures…part-humans." He sneered at that last description.
Amelia nodded. "I cannot deny that there are people among us who believe such things. I do not personally, as you know."
"I understand that Minister. But, however influential you may be, you are still one person and cannot change the hearts and minds of an entire generation of people. If things are not going to change, why should we continue to back a regime that, at best, does not represent equality across all levels and for all creatures."
"Regrettable though circumstances are—and I stand forthright beside you in acknowledging such injustice—it is also not something that can be changed overnight." She watched Griphook carefully for any signs of reaction, but he showed none. "What can my government do to show that we are taking steps in the right direction?"
Griphook smiled. "My dear Minister, do you understand the magnitude of what you just said? This may spell the end of your administration."
She shrugged her shoulders. "It is possible but that is a risk I am willing to take." She raised a finger. "But that does not change the fact that, whether I am Minister or not, this must take place slowly and through legislation that is not potentially inflammatory. I said it will not happen overnight but we can certainly begin the process now."
"And what would you propose now?"
"That depends on how much your nation is willing to help defeat Voldemort and how quickly," she countered. "If I am to take steps to advance the cause of your people in particular and creatures with humanoid characteristics in general, I must have a show of support from your people or else it will not be received by the Wizengamot."
Griphook gave her a piercing look but then smiled. "If you would Minister, please follow me." He jumped down from his chair and opened his office door with a wave of his hand.
"Where are we going," she asked, genuinely confused.
"There is a reason Hadrod has not met with you yet. His Excellency needed confirmation that it was in his interest to see you. Suffice it to say; now he has that confirmation. Please follow me now. His Excellency will explain more to you personally."
Amelia followed Griphook through several halls and past several offices. She had never ventured this deeply into Gringotts and could see how it would be easy to get lost without an escort. After five minutes, they came to a door no different than any of the others. Griphook knocked three times and then stepped back.
"Enter," called a raspy voice from within. Griphook held the door open and waved in Amelia. "Ah, I see she impressed you Griphook," said the elderly, wizened goblin with a small smile.
Griphook bowed. "She did your Excellency." He smiled at Amelia. "Of course, I have handled her family affairs for decades. She is simply the latest in a long number of respectable witches and wizards."
"Thank you Griphook," she said, touched by his kind words. Then she bowed to Ragnuk II. "Thank you for seeing me your Excellency."
"Please take a seat Minister. I trust there is much you wish to discuss. Griphook, please leave us. I will summon you when we have concluded our business."
Griphook bowed. "By your leave your Excellency."
Ragnuk II gave her a piercing look, not unlike the one Griphook gave her a moment ago. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit Minister?"
Amelia paused, considering her approach. Clearly he knew why she was here or else Griphook would never have escorted her. But she had never spoken with this goblin before and did not wish to offend him because he was a person of considerable influence.
"If I may Minister," he said, jarring her from her thoughts. "Please speak freely. I am not going to attack you if you say something I do not wish to hear." He spoke lightly and with good humor, but she sensed anger beneath the surface. Not with her personally, but about his joke.
"Forgive me your Excellency…"
"Call me Ragnuk," he said easily.
"Forgive me…Ragnuk. I am not sure how much you know of the situation my people find themselves in but we are at war with Lord Voldemort once again. I fear he is expanding his army this time around and the war we fight will be more terrible than the one we fought twenty years ago."
"I met Lord Voldemort, many decades ago before he adopted his chosen moniker. He was only eleven but even then there was a darkness raging inside him that I had never encountered before, even when I sat before Rasputin. Diagon Alley fascinated him and, though he had no account with us, he came to explore. Until he realized the influence we held, he was crude and uncouth."
Ragnuk shook his head. "I apologize. My mind tends to wander. I understand that your people will soon be at war with Voldemort's. What I do not understand is what you expect my people and I to do. We do not wish to involve ourselves with the affairs of witches and wizards, especially with your wars."
"I understand. But if Voldemort were to take over the government I lead, he will target you next."
Ragnuk stared at her and for a moment she feared she had been too direct. But he nodded. "I am sure he will. But if we do not involve ourselves, remain neutral as we did before, and your side wins, life will return to what it is now."
She sensed he pitched her this situation for a reason and she pounced. "But is that what you want?"
He leaned back, looking at the ceiling contemplatively. "It is not ideal no, but it is better than seeing goblin warriors dying on the field of battle for a war in which we have such a limited interest and from which we can expect so little in the way of social or political change."
"What can my government do to earn your trust and your support?"
Ragnuk returned his gaze to her and stared at her for a few seconds before asking. "I have heard such questions before," he said slowly. "Promises are always forthcoming but never come to fruition."
"As I told Griphook, if you desire the moon, I cannot deliver. But if we can work together and implement change slowly, then we may get to a point where we can help one another."
"Is it fair that my people sacrifice so much in the here and now while you hold off your promises until some time in the distant future. For all I know, you may perish in this conflict and where will that leave my people. Or worse, Voldemort may win, despite ours support. That will be akin to committing suicide for my people."
"Then we work together, take baby steps together. We each start small and build towards something more. I can be patient."
He looked back at the ceiling, eyes closed. "That is an interesting suggestion Minister. And what would you wish my people to do for you now to show support? And what, in return, would you be willing to do?"
"My first request would be to help with the magical protection of government buildings and the homes of certain individuals. Your magic is relatively unknown to Voldemort and, because you are not pure bloods, he does not appreciate it anyway. Supplement the protections we have with your own magic and that will greatly help our war effort. I ask this as a show of faith. Then, if we prove ourselves capable, we can speak of further assistance."
"And what will you do for my people if we assist with the protection of your buildings and outposts?"
"I will appeal Law 15 of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I trust you are familiar with Law 15."
Ragnuk looked at her and she was pleased to see some measure of surprise in his eyes. "That is one of the foulest laws your people have passed," he said. "That is a tall task. Why should I believe you could repeal that legislation?"
"There are several factors that would allow me to repeal that law. First, the author is currently disgraced and has been removed from Hogwarts and the Ministry, permanently."
"You speak of that wretched Umbridge woman?"
Amelia nodded. "I do. If for no other reason than to distance themselves from her legacy, many will vote to repeal the law. Most importantly though, Voldemort is recruiting heavily among several communities of magical creatures, many that are not inherently dark but believe Voldemort is their path to equality. Repealing that Law 15 will open the door for negotiation with other communities." She eyed Ragnuk. "Perhaps even your Excellency would help us negotiate with other communities of magical creatures if Law 15 is repealed."
"You understand all that repealing Law 15 would entail?"
"I do."
"You would grant all humanoid creatures basic human rights. They would not be on the same level as humans in the eyes of the law but they would be at least be assured basic human rights."
"I understand."
"Several smaller pieces of legislation, such as The Preferential Employment of Witches and Wizards with Reference to Dangerous Creatures, would also be repealed because they are tied to Law 15."
"I understand. I do not find werewolves or vampires to be any less capable of gainful employment than any other class of people. The same holds true for goblins, merpeople, and people with giant blood."
Ragnuk sat quietly, looking at her with surprised respect. Finally, he leaned forward. "If you can repeal Law 15, I will offer my services personally as ambassador to different communities on behalf of the Ministry against Voldemort. I will also place under your employ for the duration of the war 15 of my most accomplished ward and rune specialists to assist in magical protection. But this is only if you can repeal Law 15 in its entirety."
Amelia extended her hand. "I will accept those terms your Excellency."
Ragnuk looked at her hand and then shook it. "Good luck Minister."
After returning from her meeting, Amelia returned to work on different briefings and signing pieces of legislation that came to her desk from the Wizengamot and other departments. All the while, she was deliberating how to push through a piece of legislation repealing Law 15. Despite the confidence she showed to Ragnuk, that could prove a tricky beast.
She was realized she was reading the same report for the sixth time when a possible solution came into her office.
"Minister."
She looked up. "Yes Percy."
"Professor McGonagall has sent you a note. She wishes to let you know that the funeral for Professor Dumbledore will be held this Saturday at 10:00 am. There will be a feast held after the ceremony for students and guests before everyone will be sent home for the summer."
"Please tell Minevra that I will accept the invitation and will send her a note of the Ministry officials who will wish to attend by Friday morning."
Percy bowed. "Yes Minister. Is there anything else you would be requiring?"
"No, thank you." She returned to her report as the boy left and managed to finish it but she really didn't retain anything. She was thinking about Dumbledore's funeral. He was truly a great man. He had been the first on the scene when her brother and sister-in-law were murdered and rescued Susan. She often wondered if he had accepted the position of Minister, how much good he could've have done for the country.
He always favored giving people a chance, no matter who they were or what their background was. That was one of the things that drew people to him, and also what caused people to distance themselves from him.
Then it came to her. She would conjure Dumbledore's image to help repeal Law 15. Dumbledore, as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot in 1993, tried valiantly to repeal Law 15 shortly after Umbridge rammed through The Preferential Employment of Witches and Wizards with Reference to Dangerous Creatures after Dumbledore hired Lupin. He failed but he gathered a significant amount of support. While she hated using his death is such a way, his image would be one to conjure with in order to finally repeal Law 15.
She wrote a private note to Wilbert Dowling, requesting a meeting for later this evening. With luck, by Friday they could repeal Law 15 and the first place she would have Ragnuk help bolster the defenses would be Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, in case Voldemort decided to disrupt the funeral.
Narcissa Malfoy peered through the plains surrounding the coordinates the Dark Lord gave her. It was a desolate patch of earth, miles from any semblance of society, magical or muggle. While she understood the significance of this place, understood the moment he handed her the parchment, she still did not fully understand why he needed knowledge of this place.
She had been here for four days and felt she had gathered as much intelligence as she could. The wards protecting this place were some of the most complex she had ever encountered, and that included those protecting Hogwarts. Located throughout the plains, on rocks or trees, were extensive rune patterns that served to bolster the strength of the wards or give them different features. She didn't understand many of the patterns, which concerned her because she considered herself a connoisseur of runes.
But she took meticulous notes and diagrams so the Dark Lord could study them and possibly decipher their meaning.
On the fifth evening, she was taking one last survey of the land, making sure there was nothing she had missed as well as making sure there was no traces of her presence. Satisfied no one would know her involvement, she was preparing to walk back to the village and take the portkey back to Malfoy manor when she heard several distant pops. Disillusioning herself and silencing herself, she crept towards the source of the noise and found about a dozen witches and wizards standing in front of a tree she knew was carved with runes. She tried to make out whom they were but she couldn't see in the darkness.
As she crept closer, careful to stay hidden behind trees in case any had cast charms to see through her protections, she heard their conversation.
"…wrong with the runes I 'spose. It isn't working." The voice sounded slightly lower class but that wasn't enough to identify a possible suspect save that it was a man.
"He said the magic might not allow us to pass," came a second voice, younger and very tired but also masculine. "We may need assistance."
"It may be difficult to get information out of her…what was that?"
Narcissa mentally slapped herself. She had tried to lean closer to see the crowd but when she recognized the third voice as Alastor Moody, she backtracked and walked over a stick, cracking it in two. Moody must have had boosted his hearing.
She stayed hidden behind the tree, slowly walking backward, doing all she could to keep it between her and her foes. She knew though that they were advancing, slowly but surely. Then she sensed the stunner that nearly toppled her. She dived to the ground and heard Moody bellow for them to grab her.
Abandoning all pretenses of secrecy, she jumped to her feet and started running at full sprint towards a village she knew to lay to the east. All the while, she tried desperately to activate the portkey that would return her to Malfoy manor. Thankfully, except for a few curses that she knew to be from Moody, none of the others could see her and so their spells went off the mark. This saved her the time of casting shield charms and instead focus on running.
Finally, after running nearly a mile, she felt a wrench around her naval and saw a vortex of color. She landed unceremoniously in a heap in the room the Dark Lord had commandeered for his office. A rough set of hands helped her to her feet gently. "Thank you," she said.
"My pleasure," answered a soft, Virginian accent. Narcissa was about to curse the intruder but then she remembered that it was one of the foreigners the Dark Lord had recruited.
"Robert, take the others and leave. I will speak with you later," ordered the high, cold voice of Lord Voldemort. Narcissa saw the man who helped her to her feet (Robert) hold the door for two other wizards and four witches. The looked like a crew of wealthy investors. Given the criminals that had flooded the manor during the time she was gone according to Draco and the appearance of Robert and his fellows, they were con artists.
Then she realized she was in the presence of the Dark Lord and dropped to her knee. "Milord," she said obsequiously, not wishing to anger him.
"Rise Narcissa." He looked at her, his eyes burning like bright embers. She made little effort to block him from her mind. She was fully aware her Occlumency was nothing beside his Legilimency. "What news do you bring," he asked easily.
Narcissa opened her haversack and pulled out several rolls of parchment and handed them to the Dark Lord. "Milord, I spent the past five days studying every stone and tree within a two mile radius of the coordinates you gave me. Unfortunately, I could not even see the building, which is not unexpected but would've given a good point of reference."
"Anyway, if you look at this map," she waved her wand and the correct piece of parchment unfurled in front of him. "You can see where I marked every stone, tree, and even occasional animal where there are runes. The protections surrounding this place are more complex than any I have ever encountered, including Hogwarts. I will say that Hogwarts protections are more powerful but these…these are incredibly tough to read."
The Dark Lord unrolled the key to the map she gave him, which outlined each rune pattern on each point of the map. He spent two minutes looking over the information. "These are unfamiliar to me as well," he said. His eyes burned, his ignorance clearly personally upsetting. "I will have Rookwood commence studies into these patterns immediately. I expect you to help as well."
Narcissa bowed. "Of course Milord. There is more Milord. I encountered resistance this evening." Voldemort did not move so Narcissa continued. "It appears that the Order has made it a priority to infiltrate that place. I did not hear much until Alastor Moody recognized me but apparently they have alternative sources of information to help bypass the protections."
"Is that all you heard?"
Narcissa shook her head. "No Milord. It seems someone—I assume it to be Albus Dumbledore—made it impossible for anyone to bypass the wards. However, as I said, they did speak of an alternative source of information: a woman that I gather."
"And the Order knows who this person is?"
"It seems that way, though one of them did speak as if it would be difficult to get the information from her. Do you have an idea who they might be speaking about Milord?"
He did not answer, looking at his desk, deep in thought. "This proves that I am correct and there is further information to be had." Narcissa suspected he was talking to himself and made every effort to not even move. He continued talking to himself but quicker and quieter. She could not follow.
Then abruptly he looked up at her. "Narcissa. I want you to take these notes to Rookwood and commence studies. I do not want either of you to rest until you have unraveled the mysteries of these wards. I will interrogate the more intelligent of the foreigners and send some of them to assist you. After we have concluded our studies, you may dispose of them. Are my instructions in anyway unclear?"
Narcissa quickly shook her head. "No Milord. I will begin immediately." She waved her wand and all of her notes and maps returned to her haversack.
Two days later, Narcissa and Rookwood had made no real strides in identifying the runes patterns Narcissa discovered. Three South African ward curse breakers and a Japanese ward specialist were working with them but so far the only thing they knew for certain is that the wards used are based on a language distantly, and then only slightly, on the western Baltic languages and dialects.
"What did whoever put up these wards want to protect so fiercely," bemoaned Jimmu, their Japanese partner. This was not the first time he complained about what they were doing and it was taxing on Narcissa's nerves.
Apparently, Rookwood did not appreciate his constant complaining either. He snarled at the man. "It does not concern you what is protected. All that matters is the Dark Lord wishes to remove the protections. Do not question his wishes."
Jimmu looked at him, disgust etched on every line of his face as he scowled at Rookwood. "Forgive me my friend," he said with a sneer. "But I am not eternally loyal to Lord Voldemort as you appear to be. I am here for the money. Were he not paying me exceptionally well, I would not put up with your nonsense."
Rookwood raised his hand, sending Jimmu flying backward in a heap. He grabbed his wand just before a counter curse ripped across the room. "You do not deserve to speak Milord's name you piece of foreign filth. He is a greater, more powerful wizard than you could ever hope to be." Rookwood dropped into a dueling stance. "Shall I show you a taste of the spells he taught to me and his most loyal Death Eaters?"
Before the Japanese man could retort—or commence with a duel—Narcissa stepped between them. "Augustus, the Dark Lord will not appreciate if you kill our new allies. And you Jimmu, would do well to remember that you are getting paid to work, not complain. If you have any disagreements with that arrangement, I assure you that the Dark Lord would be more than happy to speak with you personally." Jimmu looked mutinous but lowered his wand and returned to his work. Narcissa was not surprised.
"My comrades," called out one of the African curse breakers Nero. "My comrades, I have discovered something."
Narcissa and Rookwood walked over to his table. "What is it," she asked, trying to decipher his notes in advance.
"There is a reason the runes are difficult to translate, beyond the linguistic differences," he said. He wrote out one of the rune patterns from Narcissa's map in the air with his wand. "This is the original."
"It is," said Rookwood curtly. "What of it?"
Nero smiled, showing three gold front teeth. "In this form, they mean nothing." He conjured a mirror behind them. "Look at the runes in the mirror."
Narcissa looked at the runes hovering in the mirror, which were now reversed. But then she looked closer. "These look Norwegian, at least very slightly." She mouthed the syllables as they would read in the Norwegian language. "They read 'mørke inneholdt' or darkness contained. But this is a stretch. The characters are unlike other Norwegian runes I studied for my NEWTs, and there seem to be subtle distinctions in syllable structure."
"There are," Rookwood agreed. "But this is a point of reference." He looked around at the others. "Do any of these characters look familiar to you," he demanded.
Jimmu stood mute but the three Africans talked amongst themselves, perhaps deliberating how best to explain themselves. None of them were fluent in English. Nero spoke the best but there were gaps in his abilities.
"We do not recognize these runic symbols. But we have used a practice before of using dead or dying languages to define out runic characters. I suspect this is what is happening here."
Narcissa looked at the runes again, and their reflections. She ran through five in quick succession, translating them into Norwegian. As was the case with the first, they could be translated but the syllable structure was too unique to be an exact translation. "I think Nero is right," she said. "But if that is the case, we still do not have the ability to translate these fully because, unless one of you is an expert in Norwegian linguistics."
"We may not be," said Rookwood. "But I have an old friend from my days in the Department of Mysteries. He lived much of his life teaching in Sweden, Finland, and Norway. He is not an expert in runes but he may be able to identify symbols if we translate these to the current dialect."
"Will he help," Nero asked.
Rookwood smiled nastily. "I won't give him a choice."
