Wither the Dark Lord

It was the 11th of June, and Ireland was the focus of all the Government. In fact, Narcissa had very little time to settle the matter of Ireland, so she had started at once. The reason for this was the National Conscription Act. She felt that it would be absolutely disastrous, and her entire Cabinet agreed, for it to exempt Ireland. She needed levies of Irish troops to fill out the ranks of the Army, and to encourage a sense of shared purpose between all the nations. Agreeing to the integration of the Armies was critically important to making the League work (with a guarantee that all men conscripted would serve in local regiments, which used their own language as the language of command—though in many cases that would be Spanish or French—serving to assuage the governments, but also, as General Dodson remarked to her, make the new British Army more like the K.u.K. Armee than anything else).

She'd made Dodson Chief of the General Staff. It wasn't like they had any other officers of rank who were less compromised, after all. The Goblins preferred the gold standard, but they were practical and understood finance in a way to make any day trader red with envy; they had been more or less running Voldemort's war economy before she had convinced them to revolt, but under much harsher terms. Now she let them handle the financial matters of the state. They were to maximise the production of war materiel while taking care that at no point hardship should be worse than it was during the Second World War for the common people. There were still those alive who remembered it, so they could provide a fixed point of reference.

So it came down to Ireland. After cajoling, and with her troops already occupying Ulster, Narcissa had gotten the Irish government to arrive in London for talks immediately, rather than let the issue fester. All the government buildings were still in disarray and they'd ended up taking One Canada Square over for the talks, which also had the advantage of avoiding the appearance of the Irish Government appearing as supplicants at traditional places of English authority. She'd sent a Concorde for them (they had seized four intact on the ground), even though the journey was short enough that it really wasn't necessary, that had been quickly painted in Irish national colours. After the usual greetings at the airport the convoy of vehicles had reached Canary Wharf district where a banquet was served, and then she had returned to 10 Downing Street—the talks wouldn't begin until midday on the 'morrow.

That was enough time for her to finally visit with both of her sisters at once. They hadn't all been in the same room at once since the invasion of Britain had begun. Of course there were plenty of good reasons for that. The last of Voldemort's troops had only retreated from the island proper on the 27 th of May, when they evacuated positions at Dover, Folkestone and Ramsgate. The Isle of Wight was still occupied by a division of Voldemort's troops (they had retreated there in great numbers after being cut off from Kent by a thrust of the Black Guards which had reached Brighton on the 5 th of May), and it had been Narcissa's decision to 'isolate' them in favour of the greater prize of supporting the defection of Brittany and Galicia, after her military advisors had described a similar military strategy the Americans had used, island-hopping, in the Second World War. Portland Island had been occupied until the 17 th by a battalion strength group of Voldemort's forces, but its storming had been what cleared the use of Portland Harbour as an anchorage for the fleets which had landed troops on the continent.

The flurry of managing all of these operations with the troops and trying to set the Ship of State right had consumed every one of her days from waking to sleeping, and of sleep she had seen little, with the help of potions. But there was finally a gap, and as an excuse, she wanted her sisters' counsel now, for these negotiations fed into magical politics as much as muggle. The House of Black had raised them all to be intimately tied into these matters of what it meant to be a British witch.

And she wanted to remind herself of why, precisely, she had taken on the job. The headaches were overwhelming, as she eased herself down into the chair in front of the fireplace and began to review documents. There would be another fireplace—in the gatehouse—where Andy and Bella would arrive. Her security services would sooner die than let a Floo portal actually be inside of No.10, which was sensible enough. And now, looking forward to a night with her sisters, she still felt called to make as much progress on the briefings and proposed legislation as she could.

Yes, there was definitely a reason she was doing all of this, and she was proud of it too. Her family had a future.

No regrets.

"Don't worry, Delphi. Mother will be back very soon. The Floo network is functioning again, and so I am just going to Floo right in with Aunt Andy to visit Aunt Cissy." Bellatrix was smiling to her daughter, who was curled up with a book on the couch with Hermione.

"Mum," Delphi looked up at Bellatrix, and at Andy, standing next to her older sister. She had an expression of a smart child, trying to express her diffident independence. "I don't need to worry. I'm here with mummy-Hermione in Ancient House. With our elves. Of course I'll be fine." She nodded to herself in confidence.

"I think she's got one on you, Bella," Andy grinned, and Hermione laughed with her. "She'll be fine, Bella."

Bellatrix sighed and huffed. "Oh very well." In truth, for the past several weeks, she had absolutely refused to leave for anything at all. It was the first time since she was a small child, or perhaps at all, that she had really felt safe in Ancient House, and she had spent all of that time essentially rediscovering it—and reconnecting with her daughter, and in a sense, connecting with Hermione for the first time. They'd done some repairs to the house, made contracts with the locals for the fields, done some decorating—absurdly normal things—and marked the bounds of the lane, Hermione had even participated in the rededicating of the Home Shrine to the Gods.

In short, it had been a four week long break in the perfect insanity of this War.

And now her little girl reading on a 19th century faux-Egyptian couch, curled up against Hermione, was the reward she had. That and time with her sisters.

"You're cute." Hermione smiled.

"Mum, Hermione thinks you're cute!"

Bellatrix groaned theatrically. "Come on, Andy, get me to the Floo before they gang up on me."

Andy was laughing. "As if we won't…" Still, it was time to go, and she tugged Bellatrix along. Bellatrix, of course, winked to her daughter and waved as they departed.

Together, the two Black sisters stepped from one fireplace into another. The guards came to attention. Bellatrix waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense, I'm not in uniform."

"M'lady is a Lady of the Realm," the Doorman offered.

Of course Cissy has a Doorman in front of her Floo. "Yes, yes. Lady Bellatrix Black and Lady Andromeda" Bellatrix paused for a moment, remembering that, in fact, this was not the old days, " Tonks for Her Grace the Duchess of Lancaster."

"This way, Ladies. You are expected."

Bellatrix looked around at all the décor. Most of it had been freshly installed by Narcissa, so it looked more Narcissa than she would have expected if she hadn't known that; No.10 had not been important during Voldemort's regime, and the furnishings suffered accordingly… She couldn't help herself: "Cissy!"

"The Cabinet Room, no less," Andy murmured as she stepped in, too, but even though she was more primed by exposure to muggle culture to take this place seriously, she couldn't help but grin and follow the eldest up to Narcissa, who ignored them for a moment longer to finish signing something and handing it off to an aide, before turning to them with a genuine expression of affection. She also looked tired. "Bella, Andy. Welcome. Let's go somewhere more comfortable." Narcissa rose. "I only had you brought here because I was trying to work until the last minute."

"You're as bad as Blair, working at the Cabinet Room table," Andy offered with a wry grin.

"One still feels bad for him, in the sense that he had no idea what he was dealing with," Cissy mused, leading them up into the tiny private apartment. Bellatrix knew better than to speak about that, and so she held her tongue. Soon the three sisters were ensconced in a private parlour, away from the Cabinet Room and the State Drawing Rooms.

"Bring one of the Khvanchkara bottles," she instructed to one of the servants, then turned to her sisters. "A selection of Georgian wines was sent by President Nazarbayev to re-stock the wine cellar, and I do want to celebrate the Alliance."

A crooked grin touched Bella's face. She couldn't resist. "Are you sure, considering…"

"I am perfectly aware that my son is involved with Lady Larissa Naryshkina," Narcissa undercut her elder sister's incipient teasing with a very bemused look of her own—Bellatrix couldn't help but pout for a moment even though that was exactly what Narcissa wanted to see. How does she always find everything out?

"You know it's serious and they've…"

"What I don't need to know, Bella, is details of my son's love life. He's a man grown and that's his business, though I think it's very important for a future alliance between the British and Russian wizarding communities for their marriage. There's absolutely not a single hindrance to the match on the wizarding or the muggle sides—nobody would think the slightest in muggle society of the heir to the Duchy of Lancaster marrying a Russian aristocrat from an old Tatar Boyar lineage—or at least they shouldn't—and of course, in wizarding society, we are setting the definition of what's fine and what's not."

"Cissy," Andy observed as the wine came out for them, and was corked and poured. "Most of muggle society had moved beyond that… Though I acknowledge that in the highest ranks of old blood it would still matter. Which I suppose we are. Still getting used to thinking in those terms again."

"Oh, don't play the bourgeoisie with me, Andy," Bella couldn't help but roll her eyes. "I've seen the way you dress and the way you drive."

Andy held her glass pensively for a moment, but then smiled. "Fair enough. I suppose that was never what I was escaping, anyway. And in that regard, well, Russian matches were looked down upon, Cissy, for the fact they married muggle aristocracy, but they weren't considered …"

"Indeed," Narcissa hummed. "But most importantly, it will make Draco happy, and it will set the stage for the tone I want for the family. And all without any prodding. I'm very thankful in how he's matured." A distant look. "Lucius would, in fact, be very proud. He'd have adapted to the circumstances, and been immensely pleased that Draco would one day be the Duke of the County Palatine of Lancashire. I think he'd accept all the changes to the magical world to see it."

"And I think," Andy looked sharply at Bellatrix, then, and Bella felt herself freezing for a moment with the raspberry profile of the wine on her tongue, "that my Edward would be very happy to see that my elder sister, become brave enough to escape Voldemort, and could sit with me like this, and most of all could have her own courage to come out—and be engaged to a muggleborn. You have…"

Oh, this is too sappy. And maudlin. Bella leaned it and pulled them both into a hug with her. "Come on! We've won. And I'm just as happy to be here."

Andy paused, and for a moment Bella hesitated, wondering if that had been the right ahead, but then she nodded and grinned. "Well, we are indeed all here. Tonks has Teddy with her, we're the ones with Ancient House, I've got Hogwarts, Bella has another woman, and Cissy has the entire bloody country."

"Well, I will acknowledge that we exceeded expectations in the Slytherin yearbooks." Narcissa raised her glass, and Bella raised her own with Andy's too. A light clink, the wine working a little—warm and pleasant inside, though with the nuclear winter effects it was hardly warm at night in early June. "To Exceeding Expectations."

"I think creating an island the size of Jutland in the middle of the North Sea puts the two of you a bit ahead of me, though, I haven't been Headmistress for fifty years yet, either," Andy offered after the toast. "You'll rule the present, Narcissa, but I'll shape the youth."

"Careful, you'll tempt me to be my own Education Secretary."

Bellatrix snorted. "Look at you, Cissy, you haven't enough time to sleep as it is."

"There are potions for that. Hmm. I am recreating the position as just a single Ministerial office—it's quite amazing, before Voldemort's takeover, how many times it was reorganised…"

"Am I going to have to spend the night listening to the two of you discuss education policy?"

"I think," Andy winked, "It's more like the two of us will enjoy watching you spend the rest of the night complaining about a discussion of education policy."

"I have a lovely wife waiting. I could just Floo back."

"Delphini," Narcissa said very seriously, without a hint of emotion getting to her face, "is in on it with us. If you come back home instead of enjoying time with your sisters, she'll wake up and come into your and Hermione's bedroom at midnight. Anyway, I want you to see the rooms I had prepared for both of you; I think they're very nice, and I very much want you to stay whenever you can. Of course, they're in No.11; there's not actually much private space here."

"You win." Bellatrix relaxed, really genuinely relaxed. The number of times that she could claim to have done so as an adult were precious few. They passed the rest of the evening in laughter, and for a moment, one might imagine their faces were young again.

The morning saw them served a breakfast with sausage, beans and bread with strong tea. Narcissa was making a point of expecting nothing fancy, though they did eat well, for a country under rationing. But she had to fight to avoid cracking a grin at Bella's arrival, her dishevelled appearance and fantastically bad morning hair (this in a rather glamorous woman who was, in fact, an absolutely perfect dresser—Narcissa gave her sister that) could successfully make any event more informal. "Good morning, Bella."

Andy, conversely, had overdone it. She was wearing a witch's robes, and well she should since she was the Headmistress of Hogwarts—Narcissa wasn't expecting the entire family to start wearing business suits—but the ones she'd chosen also very much reflected the fact that she was still thinking in terms of 'meeting the Prime Minister' as being on the same terms as meeting the Minister of Magic.

But the warmth of her smile reminded Narcissa of just how nice it was to have them all back. The blonde of the three waited for all to sit, and breakfast to be presented, though she thought it her privilege with her workload, to start drinking her tea before her older sisters. "Sleep was comfortable, I trust?"

"Oh, incredibly so! Did you drug me?" Bella cocked her head at Cissy, and younger could only roll her eyes at elder.

"I see you're perfectly chipper this morning."

"I assumed you might have a large stockpile of sleeping potions at this point," Bellatrix teased, before picking up her own tea. "There, there, now with this I'll keep going from the faking it into the actually being awake…"

"So, while Bella talks to herself, what about your sleep, Cissy?" Andy asked.

"I've been worried about the negotiations with Ireland," she decided to admit. "Of course, we reoccupied Ulster with our troops as part of supporting the liberation, but really it's to keep the IRA and the Loyal Orders from shooting at each other. The ironic thing is that the Irish government is fully prepared to support my policy. The 'League'-we avoid using the term 'Union'-of the Celtic Nations is even popular. The issue is the Crown. Brittany and Galicia, this is not a problem. People there are not thinking of the League in those terms, they've never known the oppression the Irish did. And it is an ugly, black stain on the history of the relations between the Nations of Britain. The Irish point-blank told me that they would agree to everything—if I was the President, and we weren't restoring the monarchy. But that simply isn't an option. I took this position to retrench our way of life and provide for the whole of our nations, both muggle and magical, and uphold our culture; not to become a populist demagogue, tearing down what little tradition is left."

Bellatrix tipped back in her chair, pausing over a bite of sausage. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"I raised, privately, the prospect of making an arrangement where we have a Viceroy, or Governor General, for the Celtic League. His Majesty is essentially running the government of Oceania, and is interested in settling the constitutional issues there. His leadership during the War has made him enormously popular, to the point that Republicanism is a dead force in Australia and New Zealand, and many of the surrounding smaller nations and populations are clamouring to join them. I hazarded the idea to him that ultimately one of his sons could be the King of each realm in that case."

"It's an awful idea. The very same traditions you want to protect," Bellatrix sighed, "they need the King here. He's the symbol of unity, and that's exactly what we're trying to create. The people are used to his presence just like the people of Australia were, before, used to the absence of the King, and honestly that helped promote Republicanism. Here? Yes, breaking down the traditional order further would hurt. People are looking forward to the return of the King. It's part of triumphing over Voldemort's regime. It's part of the very returning to tradition that you want to encourage. Having Governor General will strike a discordant note."

"It was a unity that never worked for the Irish," Andy interjected.

"It does in the magical world." Bella stuck out her tongue at her sister.

"And now we have to merge the two, and do so peacefully," Narcissa rejoined. "The reality is many Irish believe passionately in their Republic. Of course, we are making constitutional arrangements so that the Celtic nations cannot be outvoted in governance by the Anglo-Saxon nation. Essentially equal seats will allow a unified Celtic voice an equal say in the course and affairs of State. But selling that is a great challenge. You are right, though, Bellatrix. It's quite difficult to imagine a long-term situation in which the King does not return to Britain. I need my Regency to end, anyway, it's a matter of finding the appropriate Viceroy until the King does return; but since he has a legitimate cause in the war to remain away, it might conceivably be some years even without such a formal plan, and that may help." She mused. "It would be good to have an Irishman as Viceroy, until the King returns at the end of the War, at least. That is something the people could acceptable."

"Perhaps." Bella munched on another bite of food. "I think the Irish are in a more precarious position than they realise. No fault of their own—they found a way to preserve their nation mostly intact—but the reality is that they collaborated extensively with the regime. How about you take me there today? Even though they've arrested some of the Ministers who committed the most serious crimes, the reality is, that government has plenty of collaborators in it. They might need to be reminded of how much thin ice they're on. And even Sinn Féin had plenty of collaborators."

"It's a unity government that's coming, but perhaps I am not interested in excessive visibility for you, Bella," Narcissa couldn't help but sigh. "I'm also not yet at the point of intimidating them."

"But why not? They have it good. Their language, culture, autonomy, national identity will all be protected and enhanced by your government, they're going to occupy a privileged position in the last fully industrialised nation after the apocalypse. Show them just how bleak the other choice is. Nobody will want to trade with a pariah such as a nation which was recognised and supported by Voldemort's regime from the beginning. The Bretons and Galicians understood this; they're better off under you, Cissy, than under their previous muggle governments, and they know that only revenge and hatred and bloodshed would attend any outcome other than presenting you with a blank cheque and having you write the terms on it."

"My popularity exceeds ninety percent in both countries," Narcissa acknowledged. "According to the internal government polls, at least, but they're the only ones at the moment."

"Hah, you should keep it that way."

"We are trying to deemphasize party politics," Narcissa acknowledged wryly at Bella's continued cheerful insouciance over what was a very serious issue (though she felt that Bella's advice about the monarchy was on-point, having thought about it more, and quite succinct and intelligent—as usual for her), but then looked to Andy, and frowned. "Is something a-matter?"

"There's powerful magic in the air, it feels ominous," the middle Black sister whispered.

Bella felt it, and frowning, her face slowly lost its insouciant expression.

Narcissa tested the current of magic with her own wand as well, and frowned. "I was going to send you both back to Ancient House, but since I can't delay the meeting with the Irish, actually… would you accompany me?"

"Yes, I think we three should stick together today," Andy agreed. "I think it very much."

There was an ill omen in the air. The city was on edge, with a portent, a charge in the air, that no-one could quite place.