Note: Okay, I know this is really short. But I don't care. I am preparing for my I.B. course, so consider yourself lucky that I ever got this far. OK? And if you have any ideas, E-mail me. PLEASE!
It is a dark night, and rain lashes against the window of Albus Dumbledore's study. He is sitting on an armchair, his bare feet propped up on his desk, perusing through a copy of the Liber Paginarum Fulvarum. Even though it's summer, it's freezing cold in the room, and he is thankful for Fawkes, who lights the room with his glow.
There is a battering of wings against the window. Albus sighs, puts down his book, and unlatches the window. A small iron dove flutters into the window. Fawkes edges away from it; magic animals don't like cybernetic ones. The dove spits a small piece of paper out onto the floor, and sits. A door in its back unlatches, and a small nixie climbs out.
"Who is this from?" Albus asks, picking up the paper.
The nixie shrugs. "And I should know how? They never tell me who it's from, just who it's to. Go on, read the letter already." It lights up a tiny cigarette.
Albus scans the letter. "Damn it. All right, thank you. May I offer you a drink?"
"Nah, got to keep a clear head for the way back," the nixie explains. It clambers back into the dove. "G'luck." The dove chirps and flies off.
Albus watches it go. Nixies are weird creatures, a sort of Indiana Jones-ish house-elf. They're usually sent on dangerous missions, or to deliver extremely bad news.
And this is bad news. It's from Leysa Incolore, the junior Tiend Power. Apparently, a citizen of the Lower World has killed Kirsten Locksley, the newest Tiend Power. The Tiend Powers are rethinking their diplomatic policy and may rescind all Lower World honors, which means, basically, that they will squash every single witch and wizard like so many bugs.
There is going to be a meeting of the Powers tomorrow, in the Baldwynn's Ebony Tower. He can't afford to miss it.
Albus sits at the long stone table in the middle of the Seat of Power. He's at one end of the table, the seat reserved for the Greatest Power of the Lesser Powers. The Baldwynn sits at the other end, a strange old man in a tailored suit. He stares blankly off into space. His daughter, Fata Annie Greenleaf, sits next to him. Annie isn't a Power yet, but she is the most likely candidate for a Power. She used to be married to Voldemort; a temporary arrangement, in order to allow his avatar to be accepted into the Tylwyth Teg. Annie is actually quite imposing, with black hair tied back into a bun, dark sunglasses, dark lipstick, black leather gloves, and a tailored outfit of white silk.
Fata Leysa Incolore sits on Dumbledore's right. Leysa is a very pretty girl, with honey-colored hair swept up in a messy bun, blue eyes, and thin, gold-rimmed glasses. She's a scholar as well as a courtier, and has a bit of a soft spot for underdogs. She favors loose plaid shirts, and pearls. Leysa is one of the leading experts on trade and leakage between the two worlds; in fact, Jane Alderberry learned from her.
Galiagante sits on Dumbledore's left. Galiagante is not as nice of a person as Leysa is. He has balding grey hair tied back into a ponytail, one pierced ear, a tan, and always wears wraparound sunglasses. He likes subtly flashy jewelry and cars, and reminds most people of nothing so much as a record executive. In fact, he is a highly successful producer. He's very casually cruel, and supposedly a pervert.
Albus looks around. "Where's everybody else?" By "everybody else", he means the rest of the Lower Powers, Cornelius Fudge, Olympe Maxime, and Igor Karkaroff.
"We've already discussed this matter with them," Leysa says sharply. "We were waiting for your input. I think you'll agree that this falls under the category of a diplomatic tragedy."
Albus shakes his head. "It wasn't our fault," he said. "The man who killed Kirsten was a renegade. The Ministry does not condone his actions."
Galiagante leans forward. "But he was from your world," he says. "You should have prevented it. We are holding you responsible."
Albus sighs. "So what are you asking for? Reimbursement?"
"What we are asking for," Annie snaps, "is a sufficient amount of magical energy to hold reality together while a new Power is chosen and trained." She scribbles a figure on her notepad and slides it down to Albus.
Albus reads it. His jaw drops, figuratively. The amount of energy requested is equal to that of most of the collective power of every student in Hogwarts, seven times over. "I can't possibly supply that much."
The Baldwynn stirs, and everyone falls silent. The Baldwynn is the oldest of the powers, and seldom speaks. When he does, it's usually very important.
"Then," the Baldwynn says, leaning forward and fixing Albus with his coal-black eyes, "war must be waged."