Le Plafond de Verre – Prologue
Sequel to D'énigmes et Guerre.
So, here she was, disillusioned and sneaking her way through Diagon Alley like a common criminal.
After the warning that Minister Leach had given her, she was trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, but clearly, whoever was behind...whatever it was, really didn't want to be discovered, and was willing to kill to keep it that way.
The year is 1947, and Hermione seems to have fallen right on a devious operation, one that she has every intention of blowing out of the water, but at what cost?
Chateau Lestrange – January 3rd, 1947
Leta Lestrange wandered the hallways of Chateau Lestrange, in Paris, France. It's gilded black marble walls with gold inflects were eye-catching, however, to her, it was a prison all the same.
Twenty years she'd been held under the Imperius by Gellert Grindelwald, a feat that should have been impossible, a feat that the ICW had refused to believe, a feat that saw her sentenced to twenty years of house arrest for the crimes she'd committed during the war. They did not understand, she saw the magic that had surrounded Grindelwald, surrounded the wand that he'd held in his hands, that had consistently allowed him to accomplish incredible, and yet, impossible acts of magic.
Once upon a time, she'd had a ticket out of the hell that was her life, or so she had believed, that she'd had free will and love, but she had been wrong, it had all been an illusion. She'd been caught too deeply within her own depressive sphere, which had haunted her since she'd inadvertently killed her younger brother, Corvus, that she'd direly underestimated how far her family's influence stretched.
She'd been so fool-hardy and naive at thirty-one, when she had walked into the blue flames of her family's tomb at Cimetière du Père-Lachaise, hoping for a release or repentance for her crime against her brother, that she hadn't stopped to truly think why Grindelwald had held that rally in the tomb of her ancestors. Oh, but she had learnt it, she'd had twenty years of being privy to information that inwardly had made her stomach curdle, but could not set a twitch to her lips outwardly. It was why she was not currently rotting in an Azkaban cell, or in Numergard, because, even now, the Lestranges needed to protect their secrets, and she knew far too many of them.
She had learnt that her father, Corvus Lestrange Sr, had been aware of his son's death in 1901, that he'd used a complicated bit of blood magic on his person to be notified of his well-being, a connection that had broken the night he'd died, and it had been the reason Credence Barebone had been left to rot in New York for twenty-six years. He had told her this specifically, while caressing her frozen face, as she'd stood in front of him, imperiused.
She supposed it had made sense, regardless of whatever danger her half-brother, Yusuf Kama, had portended, no Lestrange heir would have been left with literal magic hating muggles his whole life. Her father had told her, that he and his brother, Ramsey, had offered their support to Grindelwald, in return that he bring her back to them. Ramsey Lestrange, originally the head of the British Lestrange conglomerate, as well as her father, Corvus Sr, had not approved of her engagement to Theseus, had not approved of a Lestrange to marry into a family of blood traitors. That despite his disdain for her being born a girl, rather than the son he'd hoped for, it did not mean that she'd been free to "shame" him or her house.
He had forced the truth of her brother's death from her lips and had given her to Grindelwald to serve, and so, she had. She had killed, maimed, and tortured on his orders, had been sent to seduce wizards to his side, and here she was today, at fifty-one years old, and a spectre in this prison, helpless without a wand and her magic bound.
Being stuck in this chateau had been no coincidence either, no, that had been a decision made by her uncle Ramsey, when her father had passed in 1929. It had been he, who had taken the reigns of her life, behind Grindelwald, she was almost certain it had even been him to kill her father. He was the one who had pulled her out of Azkaban, as at his age of ninety, he now held a certain amount of political and financial power over both the English and French governments. She knew it had to do with the Lestrange hold over the prostitution industry, and furthermore, that their fingers were deep in the trafficking world, as well, and he'd known very well that she had enough spite in her to open her mouth to anyone who would listen, regardless of whether she was believed or not.
Internally, she'd initially prayed for Azkaban, to be away from the Lestranges, to see a positive face, even through the bars of a cell, hell, even a dementor would have been of preferable company. She'd heard Theseus's staunch support of her through the years, and it had given her a spark of hope that had kept her sane, even when he'd long ago had married another, it had helped to know that she hadn't been completely abandoned.
Even Newt, who once upon a time had been her dearest friend, had been present at her trial, he had been the one to disarm her during the attack of Diagon Alley, that had finally seen Grindelwald beaten. She remembered that moment clearly because it was as soon as his wand left his hand, claimed by Dumbledore, that she'd regained her mind and control over her own body, she had thought herself finally free until the Aurors had closed in and her fate had been decided far too quickly to have even been a proper trial.
She was broken from her thoughts when she heard voices and realized she'd wandered into the wing of the chateau with her uncle's office. Leta did the quick mental calculations of what eavesdropping would cost her should she be caught and decided she had nothing really to lose anymore, so she sidled up against the wall outside his office, and listened in.
"These elves are hardly so obedient anymore, I cannot believe you voted in favour of that Slytherin upstarts ideals," someone grunted, and she vaguely recognized the voice as belonging to Rabastan Sr, her cousin, and Ramsey's son, she heard a scoff in reply.
"A small price to pay to keep Scamander out of our business, he's been snooping since Leta was brought here," her uncle replied, and she felt her ears perk at that. She wondered if it were Theseus or Newt, both were utterly incapable of keeping their noses out of other's businesses, but then her mind swung back to what her cousin said about the elves. Of course, she'd read the article on their bill that passed, but seeing as they were in France, she didn't think it applied, as even though France had its own laws in place, the Lestranges only ever took them as suggestions.
She tucked that information away for later, and continued to listen, realizing that she'd missed out on a bit of what had been said due to her musings.
"I would not underestimate him, grandfather, there is something off about him." that was Rodolphus, Rabastan Sr's oldest son, but who was he talking about?
"He's young still, only twenty-one, what threat could he be?" scoffed Ramsey, and she realized they were speaking of that Slytherin fellow.
"You were not there, grandfather, back in October, when he duelled Malfoy, he's young, certainly, but I have never seen someone control fiendfyre like that." control fiendfyre? Who was this boy? She heard her uncle hum in consideration, before changing the subject.
"What of that mudblood barrister he keeps? Radolphous's portrait in the ministry has told me she had visited Leach's portrait a couple of weeks ago, will she be a problem?" Leta noted that they were now speaking of Barrister Granger-Riddle, a girl of only twenty-one who had managed to write the bill to free elves and succeed, and immediately, an idea started churning in her mind, perhaps she could use this.
"Slytherin has claimed her, he all but said it plainly in October, if we touch her, I feel we may make an enemy of him," drawled Rodolphus, and Leta frowned, if the inflection in his voice insinuated anything, it sounded like he'd already considered the girl's desirability for their 'business'. She would be the perfect candidate, by Lestrange standards, plucky muggleborn with no sense of self-preservation, however, if she had protection from 'Lord Slytherin' then that surely could not bode well for her uncle, and she had no doubt, that if left alone, Granger-Riddle would blow the whole Lestrange operation out of the water, causing a surge of hope to light in her for a moment.
"Watch her, if she gets brave, make sure it cannot be traced back to us," Ramsey drawled, unfazed, and she heard a sputter of shock from Rabastan Sr.
"Kill her? We've had a few offers for her specifically, very influential, wealthy people who were not pleased with her bill." Leta restrained a wince, she knew what he meant by "offers", she just hoped this Lord Slytherin had the foresight to ensure his muggleborn's safety. She heard her uncle sigh and listened in once more.
"Kill her, process her, do whatever you please, just make sure she no longer poses a threat to our operation, and make sure it doesn't displease the uppity snake," he replied flippantly, and Leta took that as her queue to leave, and she did, quiet as she could.
She pondered her options as she leisurely strolled back to her room, 'coincidentally' the same room her mother had died in, positive that it was her uncle's hand at a jest. Anything she did would implicate her as well, if the Lestrange's went down, then surely she would as well, more than she'd had already. She supposed she could help it along, her family thought her neutralized anyhow, without her magic, but little did they know, her biggest weapon in the hell of the past twenty years, had become her mind.
There was an opportunity that had presented itself to her, clear as day, and she considered how all the pieces fit in together. The elves, Lord Slytherin, and a righteous muggleborn with potentially powerful protection, and the opportunity of acting on the knowledge she knew. If she stuck her neck out to help this girl, would she be able to request a boon from her so-called protector? If this Lord Slytherin was as much of a force as Rodolphus insinuated, what would his control look like in five years? Ten years? How could she make it benefit her? Anyhow, she had to test her theory first, before she got carried away.
She would begin by requesting her elf to attend her, and request said elf to deliver a letter for her without alerting her uncle if the elf agreed, it meant the elf was no longer beholden, but free, if not, she needed to find another avenue. The elves were ordered usually not to speak with her, and normally she never even saw them, but she did know the name of one of them.
"Zaza?" she called out once in her room, and with a pop, she appeared, and for the first time in the year that she'd known her, she was not wearing a dirty pillowcase, but instead, tailored robes. She would not get ahead of herself, but it did look promising.
"Could you deliver a letter for me without notifying anyone?" she asked, and Zaza looked pensive for a moment, before nodding her head, her ears flapping with the gesture, and Leta let out a relieved sigh, it was clearly a massive oversight of her uncles, and she would need to work on her plan more, but this was a start.
"Good, that will be all for now, thank you," she responded, and Zaza nodded again before popping away.
Yes, this just may work after all.
Prewett Place – January 10th, 1947
Albus Dumbledore surveyed the others that sat with him, here in the ancestral home of the Prewett family. As the current leader of the Progressive Party, he called meetings monthly to discuss countermeasures against the Traditional Party, however, this meeting was not of that ilk, this meeting was attended solely by those he deemed trustworthy, and sadly, the entirety of the Progressive Party was not that.
Albus had made many mistakes in his life, chief of them was his betrayal of his family, the second was being unable to break the blood-pact that had neutralized him against Gellert for twenty-years, but another big one was not moving to root the corruption out of his own government. Alas, the war was over, and now was the time to act.
On his immediate sides were the Prewett twins, Lord Fabian to his right, and his brother Gideon to his left, and to his side sat Molly and her husband Arthur. To Fabian's side sat James and Lily Potter, Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black, and further down the table on the right side, he counted Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alistair Moody, and Rufus Scrimgeour. On the left, Robert Abbott, Edgar Bones, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Benjy Fenwick, Frank, and Alice Longbottom.
He palmed his wand, feeling the power of the artifact ripple against his skin and knuckles, before casting a sound ward around the table, waiting as everyone quieted down, so that he may address them.
"As you all know, we are in a precarious situation politically," he started off to a few nods, and it was indeed the case. A devious operation was run under their noses on the daily, and a former student of his had amassed such outrageous political power, that one false move was grounds to be potentially fatal.
His opinion on Tom varied, he knew he was up to something significant, and he felt that it was inherently his fault. Did he know that the boy he'd met in that orphanage almost ten years ago would become the future Lord Slytherin? No, he hadn't, what he'd seen was a troubled, reactive young boy, who allegedly had no trouble hurting others, and he'd thought it better to allow the young Tom Riddle to find his own way, to find friends, to find a niche for himself within the magical world. At least, that's what he told himself to absolve his own guilt for not supporting a child who'd needed it. No, Albus considered Lord Slytherin to be a beast of his own creation, so he felt responsible for reigning him in.
"Griselda Marchbanks has decided she will retire as Chief Warlock in July, I am giving you all notice that I intend to run for it," he spoke finally, to concerned faces. As Chief Warlock, he could stem the more questionable choices and bills of the Traditional Party, and perhaps, it would give him the leverage to weed out the corrupt seats for younger family members.
"Lord Slytherin has amassed far too many followers, and far too much control to be allowed to continue unchecked," he explained, and Sirius scoffed, legs crossed over each other and arms folded behind his head.
"With all due respect, Albus, he's what? Twenty-one? And a half-blood to boot! That's not to say he's incapable, but there's no way the Traditional Party would simply hand someone his age and blood-status that much power, besides, didn't he vote in favour of the house-elf bill? How bad could he be?" he asked, and it was Molly who answered.
"Well, the bill was presented by Hermione, who is related to him, he could have voted in a show of familial solidarity," she pondered, but James shook his head.
"I don't think that's it, I was there and I voted in favour, Hermione looked shocked when she saw his vote, not to mention, Albus may be on to something, as the whole Traditional Party voted in favour, it takes some serious wrangling to get them all to agree on such a progressive bill," he mused, straightening his glasses on his nose, and Albus pondered that too.
He did not know the nature of the relationship between Lord Slytherin and his muggleborn cousin, as on the surface, from what he'd witnessed while they'd still been a Hogwarts, he seemed to care for her, however, in all his years of observing Tom, he'd never seen genuine emotion from the boy. Knowing this, he couldn't say for certain that whatever the relationship was, that it was genuine enough to sway his political opinion.
"I believe that Lord Slytherin is a great actor, who uses the many opinions and perceptions of his person to his advantage," he started, gathering their attention again, "and despite his age and experience, he has an uncanny amount of power that would make underestimating him a fatal mistake," he finished, to a few considering nods.
What they all didn't know, was that what truly had always bothered him about Tom Riddle, was that so much of his attitude, and all of his brilliance, reminded him of another once charismatic, young wizard who had moved to his aunt's house when he'd been just a teen himself.
That was the crux of the matter, that the young Lord Slytherin reminded him so much of a young Gellert, that ignoring him was simply not something Albus could do. He had known how persuasive Gellert had been at even seventeen, and Tom had been given one of the most powerful seats in the UK's governing body, and if he was as much like Gellert as Albus feared, there was no good that could possibly come of it.
The elder wand sparked in his hand, and Albus was wary, the ancient artifact could almost sense the brewing discord, and it kept him ill at ease, he'd made so very many mistakes, he truly could not afford to make this one, as well.
Albus Dumbledore looked over the few sitting at this table, the very few he was positive he could trust. Sadly, the Scamander brothers would no longer have anything to do with him, for he had done them wrong, for years, and the straw that had broken the thestral's back was his lack of defence of Leta Lestrange.
The elder wand vibrated in his hand as if recognizing the witch's name, and he supposed it would, it had, after all, held her under an imperius for twenty years. Leta was another of his biggest regrets, he knew full well that she had not committed the crimes she'd been charged for, not by her own will, but to explain the existence of the elder wand would be to announce the existence of the deathly hallows to the whole world. No, Leta was a sacrifice that had needed to be made, for the greater good.
That was why he was here, after all, still attempting to lead the Progressive Party, still attempting to do some good, despite his mistakes, and his regrets. He believed wholeheartedly that they could have a balance between light and dark magic, between the good and the bad, and that every magical being could live a full and equal life to each other's peers.
Albus Dumbledore was but a servant for the greater good, and he would continue to be, likely until the day he died.
Authors Note: Hi y'all, here's the prologue to the sequel, it's short but it's mainly to set the stage. Hope you enjoy and are staying safe.
