Simply, it has been too long, and for that I apologise. I know that this is not a typical Harry Potter fanfiction, and that it contains elements I imagine would alienate many readers, so thank you for reading thus far.
I hope you'll continue to stick with this story because I promise that I will finish it inside the next few months. In fact, much of the remainder of Wrath of Merlin has already been written, with plans for further stories to build on this work.
But without further ado, I present:
XII: A Wizard in Paris
Harry
"A Ministry contingent, including the Minister of Magic, will be spending Easter in France. They will discuss magical trade and security with their French and German counterparts. Representatives from Spain and Italy will also be present at what is being heralded as the largest wizarding summit in a decade."
I flicked off the wireless and returned to my notes.
The Aurors had identified most of the Death Eaters I had killed at the Manor, and X, Y and myself were in the process of crossing them off the hitlist. It was a list that was finally growing shorter.
The Manor 'incident' had been a major victory for us, but we weren't in a celebratory mood. We still had a job to do.
The subtle change in the way X and Y had interacted with me in the last couple of weeks hadn't escaped my notice. There was a sort of wariness that hadn't been there before.
"We've got new info on Dolohov," Y said, breaking me from my thoughts.
Sergei Dolohov was one of the big names left on the list. He'd been granted a reprieve whilst we'd been working on the Death Eaters who'd attacked the orphanage, but now he was back in our sights.
"He's been recruiting in the South of France," Y continued. "And now he's making his way north."
"I think it's time to pay a visit to an old friend," X remarked.
"You mean the Parisian? You remember that he threatened to kill us if we returned?" I asked.
"That's what makes it interesting," Y replied with a casual smirk.
We were interrupted by Arthur, joining our headquarters.
"Kingsley will be with us shortly. He's amending the Letters," he explained.
"What are the Letters?" I asked, curious.
"Well, the Muggles have what they call 'Letters of Last Resort' - in the event of a nuclear strike that destroys Britain and kills their Prime Minister, the Letters are opened by the submarine commanders with orders on how to proceed - whether or not to retaliate and the like," Arthur began.
"Of course, this will never happen. The Muggles have a deterrent far better than submarines: us. Obviously, they don't know it," said Y.
"Do you really think magic could stop a nuclear bomb?" Arthur asked the Unspeakable.
X and Y looked at Arthur impassively.
Arthur Weasley studied their expressions and his face paled.
"Merlin's beard. You don't think it could…you know," he said, not wanting to believe it. "When?"
"The Department detonated our first nuclear bomb after the Muggle's Cuban Missile Crisis. As the Cold War continued, and the Muggles made more powerful warheads, we continued testing," X explained.
"One wizard, with the right spells, could shield a small neighbourhood. One hundred of us? The entirety of London," Y added.
"Fuck…" Arthur swore. There was something jarring about Arthur's swearing, and I wondered what else X and Y knew that the Deputy Minister for Magic did not.
"We're off topic," X said, as if the subject of magical nuclear deterrence was so commonplace that it didn't matter. "Basically, the Minister for Magic has their own set of Letters - inspired by the Muggle versions - that detail instructions in the event of a critical threat to Wizarding Britain."
"Who holds onto them?" I asked.
"The Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot, the Head of the Auror Office, and Head of Mysteries," Arthur said.
Kingsley joined us shortly after, and we discussed our plans. Under the guise of Ministry diplomats, we'd join the delegation to France, then seek out the Parisian for information.
Merely days later, we were in Paris. The French Ministry occupied a massive building near the Palace of Versailles, that was hidden in a similar way to Hogwarts. Muggles saw a private park. Wizards saw a soaring palace.
We sat down in an opulent room and waited. Priceless artworks and high windows with ruby curtains drawn across surrounded us. A crystal chandelier hung above our heads.
I heard voices through a tall oaken door at one end of the room.
"...first thing you must understand is that what I'm about to show you is classified as a British state secret. The First Laws give me the right to throw you in Azkaban if you divulge what you're about to see to the public."
I recognised the voice as Kingsley's.
"Oui. I understand," a second voice replied in a clipped French accent.
The door unlocked with a click.
"Pierre, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter."
A tall Frenchman strode through, followed by Kingsley. He had dark hair and eyes that were constantly taking in his surroundings. He had the air of a man who had operated in the field.
His eyes came to rest on me.
"So it is true."
"X, and Y," Kingsley gestured, introducing the Unspeakables. "Codenames, you understand."
"Of course," Pierre replied, taking a seat.
"Gentlemen, this is Pierre Gasteau. He heads the DGMI."
"Why is French intelligence here?" X asked, his eyes narrowed.
"He's here to offer assistance," Kingsley replied. "Pierre, this is Operation Wrath of Merlin. For close to a year, we've been hunting down Dark Wizards."
"And we've had plenty of success without your help." There was an edge in X's voice I seldom heard.
"This is a matter of magical security that effects all of us, not just Wizarding Britain."
"Mightily impressive of them to volunteer now that Voldemort's gone," X said bitterly.
"I lost agents in your war with the Dark Lord," Pierre's voice did not lack for steel either.
"Gentlemen, I understand that the Department of Mysteries and the DGMI have never been close, but I'm sure you can put aside history for one afternoon," Kingsley said with an hint of finality in his voice. "I have a meeting with the trade delegation. I'll trust that you'll all cooperate."
"Yes Minister," X replied, accepting Kingsley's word.
Kingsley rose from his seat and left, closing the door behind him. It shut with a click.
In a sudden burst of movement, Pierre drew his wand from his robes and pointed it straight at Y.
It caught X and I by surprise. I made to grab my own wand.
"Reach inside your robes, Mr Potter, and I will kill him. Hands on the table."
I slowly put my hands on the table, and X followed suit.
Pierre kept his wand trained on Y.
"If your friends make a move, I will kill you."
"I wouldn't," Y warned, speaking for the first time. "I've had my wand aimed at your balls from the moment you sat down."
"The name change has not made you a better spy, Ocean."
"Likewise, François. Nice promotion by the way," Y replied casually.
"My brother would have enjoyed his tenth wedding anniversary last month."
"He went dark. He was a double agent for the Russians and you wouldn't admit it."
"There wasn't enough proof!"
"Your own people burned him! Once he was on British soil, he became our problem. I was ordered to eliminate him," Y retorted.
X shot me a glance. I met his eyes from across the table and he gave me an almost imperceptible nod.
Launching into action, X threw up a wandless shield as I pushed Y and Pierre both back across the room. I added my own shield as Pierre tried to strike it down, battering soundlessly against the ward.
"Stand down, Y," X spoke quietly. The Unspeakable did as requested, holstering his wand.
"Pierre, you can hammer all you like against Potter's shield, it won't break. Trust me," X said, turning towards him.
I raised a hand and intensified the spell.
The Frenchman's wand arm halted in mid-air.
"Enough! Letting you kill each other would solve nothing," X spoke.
Pierre swore, but returned his wand to his robes.
I relaxed the shield and took a seat.
"Let's try and avoid a diplomatic incident today, hmm?" X asked.
Pierre nodded, shooting a final glare at Y, before sitting down.
"We need Sergei Dolohov," X said, sitting down also.
"He's deep underground. We lost him a week ago," Pierre replied.
"The Parisian, will he know?"
"I have two agents under cover with him. He is not concerned with Death Eaters."
"No?"
"The Parisian is in the middle of a gang war. May resent his power in the criminal world and challenge him."
"Is this one any different?"
"Two weeks ago, they took his daughter hostage."
"He hasn't rescued her?"
"No. But not for lack of trying. Outside, there is a battlefield. If you know where to look."
"I think we do," X replied, a gleam in his eyes.
Once again, we entered The Empire of the Dead.
Deep into the tunnels, we passed the grinning skulls with their baleful stares, and crossed through the sewers. Many of the catacombs showed signs of curse damage. Pierre had been right. A gang war was raging just below the surface.
We had been journeying for perhaps twenty minutes when we were accosted by the Parisian's men. It made sense that they would be guarding the tunnels closer to the surface this time around.
"We're here to see the Parisian," said X clearly, lowering his wand. "We mean no harm."
"As you wish," said one of the men, his wand, like all the rest, trained on us. Quickly making the rest of the journey, we entered the cavernous Hall that was the seat of power in the Parisian's underground world.
The Parisian sat in a high-backed chair, a table filled with succulent food set out in front of him. Several men wearing a kind of makeshift uniform stood near him.
He looked up from his meal, swallowed his mouthful of food, and addressed us:
"I cannot decide. Gentlemen, you are either very very brave…or very very foolish."
"I'd like to think the first one," remarked Y.
"When you came 'ere last, I said you were welcome no more. To return is suicide."
"Believe me, we're not here for social pleasantries. We want information," said X.
"You know what 'as 'appened to me? What I 'ave lost? I am in ze middle of a war 'ere. I 'ave no time for yours!" the Parisian replied, standing.
"We know," said X.
"And why should I not just 'ave you killed, like I said?"
"Because if we don't return to Rue Magique in two hours, your Ministry is going to let my Ministry send the entire MLE down your holes."
"They would not. I 'ave friends inside ze Ministère."
"So do we."
"'ow do I know you are not bluffing?"
"Do I look like a man who would take that kind of chance?" asked X.
The Parisian's eyes narrowed into slits.
"Say ze MLE do come down 'ere. Zhey do not know these tunnels. Zhey will rot in ze Empire of ze Dead!" he declared.
"Are you willing to bet the lives of your men against an army of Hitwizards?" pressed X.
"If that is what it takes!" said the Frenchman angrily.
"But I don't think you want to take that risk. You run the underworld here. There isn't a single bit of organised magical crime on the Continent that you don't know about. We only want information," X pressed.
He paused.
"We don't want to start a war."
The Parisian lazily swirled a glass of wine in his hand, his eyes never leaving X.
"What do you want to know?"
"The location of Sergei Dolohov."
"I do not control Dolo'ov. I don't know where 'e is."
"He was seen in Paris."
"Oui, three days ago. I do not know where 'e is now."
"Can you find out?"
"Why?"
"You know why. He is rallying the scum of the earth from all over Europe. For many of Voldemort's followers, this will be their final stand."
"Or yours," suggested the Parisian.
X shrugged.
"We have killed many of Voldemort's supporters in the last year. My death is long overdue."
The Parisian turned to me.
"'arry Potter, is it true, what I have been told? That you alone killed twenty Death Eaters in a singlehanded attack?"
"Thirty-four."
"What?"
"Thirty-four Death Eaters," I clarified, my face a grim mask.
"Ze Chosen One indeed…" the Parisian said. "Impressive."
"Will you help us?" said X.
"Maybe. For a price."
"Name it."
"My daughter. Return 'er to me, and Dolohov is yours."
"Do you have any idea where she is?"
"My men 'ave found several leads, but zhey are not black-ops. Zhey do not know extraction ze way I think you do."
X nodded.
"I will talk with my men."
The Parisian gestured to an empty table.
"As you wish."
We sat at the table and conversed.
"Finding the girl could take time," said Y.
"But it'll be worth it to get Sergei Dolohov," I replied.
"There's no guarantee that they'll find him for us," Y objected.
"This is our best shot. We're going to have to take the risk," said X. "I'm not keen on walking into a turf war, but I see no other choice."
Y nodded.
"Then I'm in."
"Likewise," I added.
X stood and addressed the Parisian.
"Find Dolohov. We will find your daughter, and bring her back to you."
"Agreed."
Overnight, Pierre had determined the whereabouts of the Parisian's daughter. Y might've disliked the Frenchman, but I could not fault his secret service. We sat at the stakeout point, two buildings over, planning the assault in the early afternoon.
"Here's the plan. Gasteau will give us a window in which we won't get any kind of interference from local law enforcement, but it'll only be about ten minutes."
X waved his wand, and a shimmering model of the building appeared in thin air.
"The building is four stories, and we'll come in from the roof. Y and I will go through a skylight, Harry through the window here."
He pointed at at the window on the model.
"From there we'll work downwards, avoiding combat on the ground and first floors."
"What about the Parisian's men?" I asked.
"They can be cannon fodder for all I care. We'll use them as a distraction if necessary."
Y smirked.
"Let's suit up."
We donned black combat gear and boots specially developed for the MLE. I strapped a line of silver canisters on my belt, and a series of black knives across my chest. I holstered my wand and donned a balaclava. X and Y did likewise.
We weren't just dressed to hunt.
We were dressed to kill.
We had watched and waited since late afternoon for the sky to grow dark, and the streets to clear.
I stretched my legs, limbering up for the coming assault.
Finally, Pierre gave us the go ahead.
"Comms?" Y asked, speaking into a throat mic. We were utilising Hitwizard headsets, small silver contraptions that would allow us to communicate.
"Loud and clear," I replied.
"Right. Let's move."
We made our way over the rooftops spanning our stakeout position and the target. I waited on one side as X and Y made their way to the other rooftop entrance.
"Engage."
X's detached voice came crisply through my headset.
I moved into the building under my Cloak. Within seconds, I came face to face with a guard. I dropped him with a flick of my wand.
"Clear." I could hear X and Y's entrance through my earpiece.
"Move in."
I made my way further down the hallway as Y entered from the rooftop.
I neutralised a couple of occupied rooms with quick Stunning spells on the top floor, then made my way to the rendezvous point. X and Y had already arrived.
X was speaking in rapid French with a terrified-looking Albanian man, wand trained on his face.
"She's in the basement."
Y swore as X stunned his prisoner with a red flash.
"That's three floors and then the basement."
"Reckon it's time for that distraction?" asked Y.
"Call it in," X directed.
Y spoke with one of the Parisian's lieutenants through his communicator, instructing them to launch an attack on the main entrance to the building.
"Harry, make your way to the basement," X instructed. "We'll clear out the middle floors."
I made my way to a flight of stairs and descended down to the first floor, just as a muffled boom came from the east of the building, followed by shouts.
A man rushed past me towards the noise, followed shortly by two more.
At least the Parisian's men had been good for something.
I Stunned my way past one more guard on the ground floor, and entered the basement.
Two guards stood watching over Marie, chained and huddled in a corner, her eyes wide with fright.
Neither saw me coming.
I tore both wands from their hands in a single sweeping movement, and shot pinpoint Stunners that dropped them scant seconds later.
Another flick of my wand freed the girl of her bonds.
"It's okay," I reassured her awkwardly, giving her a hand to her feet.
"I've got her," I addressed my headset.
"Good. Get out," came X's reply.
I paused momentarily, weighing up my options. My primary objective was getting Marie out of the building safely. That meant avoiding the battle on the ground and first floors.
I wrapped my arm around Marie's waist as she clung to me with frail arms.
"Hold on," I instructed. She nodded in mute understanding.
I raised my wand up to the low ceiling of the basement.
"Ascendio bombarda!"
The ceiling above us exploded upwards, pure energy crackling around me as my feet left the floor and we punched through not one, two, or three, but four floors at breakneck pace.
Our ascent was over in a matter of seconds, and I levitated us over to the safe zone three buildings over.
"Asset clear."
"We noticed," came back Y's reply.
I wrapped Marie in a woollen emergency blanket charmed to provide heat and prevent shock.
She gave me a shy smile at the gesture. I shrugged it off.
Just standard operating procedure.
I had no illusions as to why I was doing this. I wasn't playing the rescuing hero anymore. Her salvation had come because her father could get us Dolohov.
And that fact didn't bother me in the slightest.
We made the trip underground for the second time in as many days, the Parisian's men leading our contingent, with Marie in tow, followed by ourselves and Pierre, his eyes glinting in the darkness.
As we got closer to the Parisian's base, a couple of men blindfolded Pierre. Surprisingly, the Frenchman didn't seem to mind.
As we entered the chamber, we were met by the Parisian's quick strides, closing the distance quickly before embracing his daughter.
Genuine gratitude shone on his face as he turned to face us.
"And now I 'ave something for you."
He snapped his fingers, and two men, dragging a third between them in chains, made their way over. The Parisian ripped a black bag off the head of the chained man to reveal our prize.
"Sergei Dolohov..." drawled X. "Do you know who we are?"
His eyes darted to me with a new emotion: fear.
"You're wondering: are the rumours true? Did Harry Potter single-handedly put thirty-four of your mates to the sword?" X continued.
"The answer is yes."
I put my wand to his temple, and it gave a jolt in my hand as I sent a curse into his skull. He dropped, writhing about on the ground in pain. I sensed the shields on his mind fail as he shrieked in pain.
It only took a few minutes for X to glean any valuable information from Dolohov.
'I'm done," he announced, giving Y a curt nod.
Y drew his wand and fired a bolt of black at Dolohov's prone figure.
He died silently, blood running from his nostrils.
We had arrived in Paris less than 72 hours ago, and our mission was over. It was all becoming too easy.
I could feel Pierre's eyes on me, a speculative mask hiding his true emotions.
"What are you?" he asked, his voice giving away no more than his face.
I hesitated at the peculiar question, but Y answered for the three of us.
"We're Wrath of Merlin. We don't forget. And we sure as hell don't forgive."
A/N: I needed something to ensure Pierre's silence, so I invented 'The First Laws' - an international magical treaty that recognises Britain's exalted status in the Wizarding World.
I'm aware that Ginny has had little to do in the last few chapters. As the story has evolved to focus on Harry's actions in the aftermath of the war, I feel writing filler scenes for Ginny wouldn't really benefit the story currently. However, she will be making a return in future chapters.
Please let me know what you think!