The vassals had shifty looks about them.
It was not the first time he had brought them on a 'field trip' with the approval of the Headmaster himself, but it was the first time he had brought the two witches. All together, they were Parkinson, Davis, Derrick, Goyle, and he was sure Bulstrode was around somewhere. The first of these had been recruited by the Ministerial coup in France, defined by the creation of a new court system that could override past rulings. They had not brought out the guillotines yet, but it was clear enough that their intelligence gathering was at an end. His father's efforts had mostly come to naught; where he had planted seeds, the coalition of governments burned and sowed salt.
Thus, the New World.
They had chosen New Mississippi, a magical Confederate settlement in what would have been known as British Honduras at the time, primarily because it had been part of the vision of the Knights of the Golden Circle, and because they might meet with enough people who could help them. After the American Civil War, as Parkinson had it, the greatest number of refugees leaving their states, either because they had lost everything or because they were wanted men, came to British Honduras in hopes of building a new plantation economy in an English speaking colony. The venture failed for the muggles, of course, primarily due to the climate and the insects, but the wizards managed to build a singular functioning city.
"Are there going to be muggles here?" Goyle asked.
"They needed the labor because there were no elves," Draco explained. "To think, if they had, they might have won their little war, at least on the magical side of things."
"The elves wouldn't have been much help. They're not good for fighting," Derrick said.
"No, but they would have changed the public perception of the war," Parkinson responded. "If everyone had house elves, they could have compared slavery to the ownership and trade of elves, which would have aligned more of their states or provinces or whatever to their cause. While they are 'not good for fighting', their unique magic is quite serviceable for taking care of ancient residences, because they can go around the magical defenses, and unlike human servants, can be trusted with such abilities."
The witch was alluding to the servile mentality evident in all but the most defective of elves.
"In either case, this is a secluded city that has been mostly undisturbed for over a hundred years," he explained. "They allowed the muggles in as long as they agreed not to leave, bending the Statute if you will, and today there are no muggles in the city."
"None? Really?" Derrick asked. "How is that possible? It must have been ten to one at the very least when they started-"
"If not worse, yes. The mayor of the city was a wizard named Vergil Breckinridge, who was originally from Appomattox, if I can be certain of the validity of the source, and he observed that the only way to keep Secrecy in his current situation was to eliminate the need for it." He recognized it was a nearly dishonest way of wording things. "Once the muggles came to the city, then never returned. The local muggles most likely thought they were dead or wandering somewhere."
"Do you mean to imply they bred with the muggles?" Parkinson asked, mouth hanging open as he shot a backward glance. Evidently, someone did not read this part of the story.
"They forbid the muggles from having children, except with wizards. It was only a few of them coming in at a time, and sooner or later everyone was half."
"They were diluting their blood," Goyle said. "They needed the numbers to keep other wizards out of their city. Was it illegal to found cities in other countries?"
"Not really. The British settlers were doing the same thing, so they couldn't complain about that," Derrick said. "I'd have been more worried about the natives. They never took to the Statute too well in the first place."
"Regardless, do not expect to find friends here," Draco said, waving his wand to dismiss the insects from his face. They had decided to apparate as close as they could to where the city was supposed to be, and walk the rest of the way. "Their ways are not our ways. With no bloodlines, if they have any pride in magic, it will only be the pride in their own abilities."
Not so far to the west, Mexico provided quite the contrast. With ancient lines tracing back to the Hapsburgs and before, there were actually more Mexican families that could claim the distinction than there were Spanish. Though it had been quite the struggle, they eventually managed to cement themselves in control of every existing city, building new cities after that. Before long, we need to send Parkinson or someone over there.
"They're not going to be very powerful, either," Derrick said. "If they're diluted several times over and sealed off from all other magical knowledge, they'll only have what they brought with them, and they won't be able to cast it very well."
The leader filed it away that his subordinates mostly subscribed to the idea that mudbloods who did well in school had to be at least half, while those who did poorly were probably the children of halfbloods or worse. Davis herself was a halfblood, so he contained his criticism of that particular quantum around her, reminding himself once more that they were the tolerable practical response to the reality of their situation.
From time to time, he wondered what would have happened if the Ministry had rehomed the war orphans into proper homes that taught them of their heritage. Checking the stars above to make sure he was proceeding west as planned, he shook his head, doubting the vassals could detect such slight movement. The time for wonder is past. The time for execution is now.
"We've come to the first charm," Bulstrode said. "It's one the Americans got from us in the eighteenth century. It makes everything in front of you look like a forest."
"Interesting. The primary weakness, I suppose, is that the image might not look entirely like its surroundings." He touched a real tree next to him, a long-leaf pine. "They must have adapted to their circumstance by planting non-indigenous species. We've already come through the muggle repelling charm, which they must have put up after they decided they were done accepting muggles."
"That should be the last of their defenses, then," Derrick said. "We didn't see any of them during the Grindelwald war, and there were supposed to be skirmishes in the Americas. Must've been counting on no one finding them." He spat to his side. Draco only raised an eyebrow.
The city came into view.
Classical architecture had taken on a distinctly magical flavor. Columns supported the rooves of the first, second, and third floor of every building, and they were not exclusively on the front. The gold statues on the tops of some of the domes ranged from nudes, to dragons, to astrolabes. Their wands were out, because they did not know what to expect, but they were not assuming threatening postures.
"We don't know when we'll see them," Derrick said. "Shouldn't be very powerful, but they might take us by surprise..."
"This is a city, not a fort," Parkinson said. "They aren't constantly watching for threats. They're normal people."
There was no response.
For normal people, they are remarkably hard to see. The buildings we can see on the outskirts do not appear to have people walking around them. It was hard to move forward quickly, and quite fortunate no one was so motivated. There was a sign in the form of a bronze plaque on the road leading to the city.
"Can anyone read this?" Goyle asked. "I think it's in Spanish."
"There's another further on," Draco said. "They would have wanted to keep English speakers away from their fair city just as well."
Reading the second sign, it explained that the settlers had no wish to concern themselves with the affairs of the wider world, and there was no reason for the world to concern itself with them. They had nothing anyone would want to trade, and wanted nothing from anyone else. He found himself scowling as he read. Do they think good will will protect them? All they're doing is isolating themselves from people who could potentially help them against the muggles.
"We should proceed," he decided. "This is not a threat; it presumes that they will suffer visitors who mean them no harm."
"It seems to say they don't want anything to do with us," Derrick said. "This trip might have been a waste of time already."
"Oh, it still might, but it is not yet," the Malfoy heir said. "If they are as isolated as they claim, they know nothing of certain recent developments."
On the path into the city there was a single old wizard walking ahead of them. He gave a single backward glance and no other sign that he had seen them. They tolerate our presence thus far. Without making a sound, he bade his vassals follow, and without making a sound they obeyed. Draco had been perturbed by the possibility of disloyalty recently, but at the very least they could still function as a unit.
Proceeding past the first row of buildings without stopping to appreciate the right angles and white stone inlaid in the brickwork, he heard Derrick muttering something, his head on a swivel. The former Beater had never shown any explicit signs of loyalty to anyone else, but it was obvious he was only attracted to the power of the position, and if he could gain by taking a new position, he would.
"Sylvestris!"
It was impossible to determine from where the incantation had come, but it hardly mattered; the result was a massive pine tree springing forth through the pavement. Draco could no longer see Parkinson or Goyle; another tree came up and forced him to move again.
"They're splitting us up and surrounding us!" Derrick shouted. "They're in the windows!"
"No killing curses!" he shouted back. "We're here on diplomatic purposes!" Some flash of spellfire he could not identify flew past his head.
"Looks like we don't have diplomatic immunity."
Breaching the door together, Draco blasted through the wards while his vassal kicked it in. Parkinson was somewhere behind them, and it looked like her skin had been cursed, but she was managing to ignore it. There were two witches their age in the downstairs area and they were apparently quite prepared with disarming jinxes, though Derrick managed to dodge and Parkinson forced one of them to dodge, giving the first vassal plenty of time to stun them both while Draco retrieved his wand. With it in his hand, he put a dark curse on each of them, freezing them down to their bones.
"That's two hostages," Derrick muttered. "They'll have some of ours."
"That's quite all right; this is a diplomatic mission," he muttered back.
They met the other wizards at the threshold.
Davis and Goyle were covered in what looked like hoarfrost, though the first thing their captors said was to insist they were unharmed, and Parkinson claimed the very same, though she most likely had no idea about the Russian curse Draco had used to keep them from moving in case someone managed to wake them up. If everything goes smoothly, we shall not have to reveal anything.
"You have done well to collect a pair of hostages with your limited resources," one of the wizards said. "However, did you know that they are not actually human?"
"What the hell are they?" Derrick asked.
"Xtabai. I am made aware that they are not to different from Veela or Lorelei, though I have never seen those creatures myself. My family remembers the Mer of the Caribbean."
"Interesting," Draco said. "I should hope you would realize from our seizure of hostages, human or otherwise, indicate a desire to commune rather than fight."
"Of course. I should hope you realize, whatever your name is, that we do not stand on equal footing. We may have used the Xtabai as part of our security force, but they are very much expendable to us."
"In my own upbringing, it is customary for the host to be introduced first; forgive my neglect to introduce myself. I am Draco Malfoy and these are my vassals, it appears those you have at a different manner of disadvantage are Tracey Davis and Gregory Goyle. With me, Pansy Parkinson and Ector Derrick."
"Indeed. I am Ephraim Harper. I shall introduce the rest over brunch."
"Brunch?"
"What kind of host would I be if I did not offer brunch? My grandparents would never forgive me, not for the heartbeat of a diabetic swamp beast."
He waved a hand and the other wizards in grey woolen robes directed the vassals down the brick street with buildings of various colors on one side, and a large park on the other, something vaguely French about the way that the grass and trees were divided into six by paths of crushed rose quartz. They arrived at a five story mansion well supported by pillars; apparently Americans were in a deeper love with Classical design than with demonstrating the power of magic.
In the mansion they were shown into a dining room that seemed to vertically consume at least two of the floors, though he supposed if they liked living in expanded spaces, they could have a whole second floor anyway. Draco contained a smirk. Long before it was discovered that there were negative effects to the health of a wizard who lived in impossible spaces, it was hideously unfashionable, and that protected all those who were worth the protection, at the very least.
"Please be seated, Mr. Malfoy, ladies on the near side."
Once they were all seated around the carved oaken table, there was a chance to look around properly. It seemed the local wizards were dressed either in wool robes or cross-buttoned jackets with tails, while the witches wore rather frilly dress robes, white, peach, silver, and canary all in a row. Parkinson and Davis in their identical school uniforms looked almost out of place, even if they were drawing the attention of the wizards across from them, possibly for that very reason.
"Where's Millicent?" Goyle asked. Draco blinked. "Bulstrode."
"I do not believe she followed us. Parkinson?"
"No, she must have split off from us during the unfortunate misunderstanding. I expect she will be brought in later, presuming she identifies herself to the guard."
"In any event," Draco said. "Perhaps we should tell our gracious hosts why we have come."
"We were curious," one of the local witches said. "None have found us in nigh on a hundred years. It did not take too long for wizards the whole world over to give it up. We had hoped, I do declare, that they had forgotten about us. It is plenty that here the old times are not forgotten."
"There was something else we had hoped you would not forget. It was a dream, a promise to our descendants and an honour to our ancestors." The old wizard at the other end of the table set down his drink of some pale amber hue. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Perhaps you already know what I have come to discuss."
"The Golden Circle."
The dining hall was silent after he spoke. It went without saying that Ephraim Harper was not one to discuss such matters in vanity. They may have closed themselves off from the world, but what they preserve forever is their defeat and subsequent flight.
"We are aware you know nothing of us and our conflicts," Parkinson said. "You have probably already determined that we are your aristocratic counterparts, far flung from the shores of Britain as we are. Let us not, however, speak of our home, but of yours. Our esteemed leader, Malfoy, has determined the astronomical reasons that the capture of these territories is so perfectly paramount to the preservation of the magical world."
"Then it may be that we have not given you your due, devils," one of the other wizards said. He had not identified himself, but Draco doubted he would forget the voice, strangled as it was by decades of unfiltered tobacco. "You know the manner of barrier we could erect around the sea if we were to control the Penumbra of the Witching Hour. I have said it for years- we were wrong to discount the natives and their claims- better to deal with them and have them agree to it."
"The dream is not as far away as many of you may fear," Draco began. "Already we have agents in Havana and Port-au-Prince. Members of our organization have reached out to the Americans, and found they are not as united as the name would imply. Few states would come to the aid of a handful of cities from Texas to Florida. With a suitable distraction by the name of Grindelwald, they may have little choice in the matter."
There was some amount of murmuring on the other end of the table. They have heard of him, then. It should not surprise anyone that on occasion they desire to know what has happened to the world outside their hiding place.
"It has not gotten by us that y'all came here to ask us for something," one of the younger witches said. "Ain't no time like the present."
As endearing as her voice was, he knew better than to explain everything immediately. The others had agreed to allow him and Parkinson to do most of the talking.
"In the most likely of cases, all that will be required is that you return to the world. Declare your support for us, and soon enough the rest of Central America will follow. Allow us to worry about the States. In a worse case, the provisional magical government of Belize may need to be overthrown." He let out a long breath. "If that is the case, we can be reasonably certain that the entire rest of the land has no idea you are here, outside the realm of whispers and rumor."
"We have this of a rather authoritative source," Parkinson explained. "Our contact in the sea has stated that there is a growing discontent with the muggle governments. Witches and wizards have no desire to be shackled to them, and a purely magical settlement, where there would be no need to worry about the Statute, would give them exactly what they want. Traitorous influences are expected, of course, yet if we reach out to the right figures, the dissent can be silenced in due time. The Caribbean will not realize it is being seized until it already has been."
The young witch in his vassalage had timed her remarks to the moment when the food was levitated into the room; great sterling platters of stewed greens Draco could not identify, a thicker, more rustic, he supposed, pomme puree, dressed with a vibrant red sauce. In the middle of the table there was a large fried bird, and though he did not care to memorize every creature the world over, from its weight it could only be an Occamy. The fare was somewhat rich, he supposed, but an interesting change of pace from the sausage and soup that seemed to be ever-present at Durmstrang.
"This is pretty damn good," Goyle muttered. A witch next to him laughed. "Millicent, try the fried bird."
"Actually, Gregory... I've sort of been watching my figure."
Draco blinked neutrally. For what reason?
"Returning to the point of your visit," one of the older wizards said.
"Oh, please, Ezra, let it wait for the morning," a witch next to him said. "Be not a busybody, lest the business best ye."
"Of course," he decided, thinking it would give him and probably Parkinson more time to figure out how things worked in the colony of New Mississippi. They had gone in blind by necessity, but there would be those more in favor of and those more opposed to the formation of the Golden Circle, the pursuit of a nearly forgotten dream.
"There is one matter I would like to address before the even is out," Ephraim Harper said. Draco motioned for him to continue, mostly unnecessarily; he could already tell by the sound of the wizard's that he was asking out of interest rather than as a test of his loyalties. "Have you ever heard of Isla Bermeja?"