December 1985
Dumbledore pushed open the dungeon doors and walked into the Wizengamot. Marcus Carrow stood at the podium with Millicent to his right.
Dumbledore walked past Crouch and Fudge. He stood in front of the podium.
"Don't stop on my account, Mister Carrow," Dumbledore said.
Millicent said, "You haven't been in attendance since June, Albus, and now you walk in twenty minutes late?"
"I doubt I missed anything myself and everyone in this room haven't already heard," Dumbledore said. He looked at the wizards and witches around him. "Am I wrong? Aren't you all tired of the way this has gone on, how we have met like this for over a year to talk about legislation that should have been voted on a few months after its conception?"
"If you want to take the podium," Millicent said, "you'll have to wait until Marcus has finished."
"I don't need a podium," Dumbledore said.
Dumbledore reached into his robes and took out eight photographs. He threw them on the stone floor at Millicent's feet. Before she could reach down and take them, Dumbledore pointed his right index finger and the photographs lifted into the air. Another turn of his wrist and the photographs collected in a circle, facing the members of the Wizengamot. He pulled at the air with his hands and they enlarged. The broken clips of sound from the images amplified. The dungeon filled with the echoed noise of distant sirens, wind, and blood from open necks falling onto stone and wood floors.
Dumbledore shouted, "How many more deaths will it take for us to vote?"
Crouch covered his mouth with his hand as the image of a ten year old boy floated in front of him. He looked at Dumbledore. "How many more have been killed since we found the four in this room?"
They don't know. The Ministry hasn't told them anything.
"Ten," Dumbledore said, "all muggle-born and all killed the same way. Don't look away. Make sure you all see what these, and let's call them what they are, terrorists have done, the way they carved up the foreheads of their victims and cut off their heads before stringing them up like marionettes."
The photographs drifted lower, until they were inches from the front rows. Millicent took one of the photographs out of the air.
"This Wizengamot has failed. While we argued amongst ourselves, muggle-born children, witches, and wizards died," Dumbledore said. "We can't treat this like any other act, or any other trial. There isn't time."
Millicent shook her head, "We have to follow protocol and-"
"Did you not hear me, Madam Minister? Our people are dying."
"Muggle-borns are dying, Dumbledore," Carrow said.
"Our people, I am sure you meant to say," Dumbledore said.
Adelaide Burke, a witch who sat near Fudge, said, "We can't vote on this yet. We haven't even heard from the other side."
"Then aren't you glad I've prepared remarks?"
Dumbledore moved the photographs overhead, where the dead eyes of the bodies could look down on them. He didn't want any of the people in the room to forget why they were here and what they had to do.
"Anonymity is powerful. We all benefit from it, as we sit in our dungeon, protected from the outside world. We have avoided every aspect of the muggle world for centuries. We haven't interfered in their wars and we haven't come to their aid when natural disasters have threatened them. We have hid on the fringes of their lives and kept to ourselves. We have gone through great lengths to hide magic from the rest of the world."
Dumbledore continued, "And here we are, entertaining an act that would remove the protection of anonymity from members of our world. We have killings with no leads, witches and wizards slaughtered and no one in this room has done a damn thing to stop it, or solve it. So tell me, how do we expect putting names in a registry to go? To help these terrorists and give them a list of victims?"
"The registry would never be available to the public," Millicent said.
"That doesn't mean anything, except that it will be leaked. Minister, you can't tell me that no one who works at The Ministry harbors ill will against muggle-borns. Your Aurors haven't been able to solve these murders and I'm not convinced that you've cared enough to make it a priority," Dumbledore said.
"Leave this chamber," Millicent said.
"I'm not finished," Dumbledore said. "Muggle-born witches and wizards aren't going away. And they shouldn't have to. If you go back far enough, all of us have connections to the muggle world. We are all muggle-born, in that way. If we never inter-married, we would have died out long ago. Muggle-born witches and wizards belong in our world and deserve to make it their own. Keeping a record of people and monitoring their movements is barbaric. We watched, from a distance, while millions of Jews were recorded, monitored, and taken to death camps during the Second World War."
Marcus said, "It won't be that way. We aren't them."
"We are," Dumbledore said, "and your refusal to see that is why this act is so dangerous and why you see muggle-born witches and wizards as second class citizens."
"It would be for their safety," Marcus said.
"If you put them on a list," Dumbledore said, "they will be slaughtered."
"We can't protect them if we don't know who they are or where they are," Adelaide said.
Dumbledore walked over to her. "You think your Aurors can provide protection? They haven't solved any of these murders. They don't know how."
"We will recruit more Aurors," Adelaide said.
"You can't train the Aurors you have," Dumbledore said. "Muggle-born witches and wizards don't need more Aurors. They need for the term muggle-born to stop meaning less than."
"You've said enough, Dumbledore," Millicent said.
"I haven't," Dumbledore said, "But I know talking more won't change the opinions of anyone in this room who supports the act."
Dumbledore waved his hand and the photographs fell on the floor.
"Millicent," he said, "do not call us back here until you intend for us to vote. We must end this."