AN: new chapter up, enjoy.
Chapter 57 - ICW Summit
Over 600 wizards and witches, each one of them wearing robes stranger and more eye-catching than the other were gathered in a very large chamber. The ceiling of the chamber was unnaturally dark but various gems embedded in it were shining like stars in the night sky. The air was cool and humid and the walls of the large chamber were rugged and unpolished.
"If I didn't know any better I'd say we're at a bloody fashion show in Paris, not in a dingy cave in a desert," Alastor Moody said, his magical eye whirring around crazily and making all the surrounding people give him a wide berth.
Whenever wizards and witches from different parts of the world met it was almost like a tradition for them to show off in front of each other. Some people were wearing Dragon-hide clothes, others had all exotic-looking feathers on their outfits, while others were wearing ornamental armour with scales coming from various aquatic magical beasts and so on and so forth.
"The Muggle world is ending yet look at how casual they all appear to be," a middle-aged man with short grizzled hair and a well-trimmed brown beard said bitterly. He was a veteran Auror accompanying Minister Bones together with Alastor Moody and a charming witch dressed in black from head to toe - the three of them were there to act as her bodyguards.
The four English wizards and witches made small talk while waiting for the rest of the people in the chamber to go to their seats for the meeting to finally start.
Eventually, a turban-wearing old man stepped on the stage in the middle of the amphitheatre-like cave. Holding his wand below his chin, his magically-amplified voice resounded clearly in the large chamber.
"Good afternoon. As the Arabian Peninsula's Minister of Magic and the host of the ICW's summit, it is with great pleasure that I welcome each and every one of you. Without further ado, I would like to invite Supreme Mugwump and Russian Minister of Magic, Alexei Orlov on the stage."
At his words, the wizards and witches in the stands clapped politely as a short pale-skinned man wearing a brown suit and a fur hat walked on the stage.
"Good Evening."
The moment he opened his mouth, the several hundred people in the stands all became quiet.
"We all busy people so I make this quick."
In spite of his short stature and broken English, nobody made fun of him.
"What we do about Inferi plague in Muggle world? This is subject of our meeting. We find solution or ignore them? From this moment, everybody has 5 minutes to decide. Then, we vote by putting our wand on the armrest of chairs. Left side for "no", right side for "yes". For abstaining from vote, do not put wand on either. A Protean Charm counts all votes so there is no cheating. Before voting, I tell everyone: Russian magicals all are in favour of supporting Muggle World."
As soon as he finished speaking, the cave was flooded by a chorus of voices, everyone talking in their native language with their peers. The English delegation was no different either. While the two Aurors were sitting quietly by the side of the Minister, Minister Bones and the witch dressed in black were talking animatedly to each other.
"You can't be passive about this, Amelia!" the black-wearing witch said sharply.
"We've had this conversation before," Amelia Bones replied. "We don't know yet to what extent is the ICW going to decide our involvement in solving the plague. I have a hard time believing things are as simple as merely creating a cure for Muggles. If we also have to find and stop whoever is behind this thing too we can't spare any manpower for that. Our plate is full enough as it is."
Seeing her belligerent expression, Amelia added:
"I know you want to help the innocent, Bella - though I have no proof, I'm quite sure you were the "guardian angel" that Muggles described in Edinburgh a month ago - but I'm the Minister of Magic. My job is to protect our people, not the Muggles. The Muggles can take care of themselves, as they've always done."
"More like you're obsessed with capturing the Dark Lord after he-"
"Do not go there, Bellatrix," Minister Bones said dangerously, her nostrils flaring.
"Has it not occurred to you that he might be the one behind all of this?" Bellatrix insisted. "For god's sake, Amelia, you can't let your hatred and thirst for vengeance cloud your mind! Even the Russians want to help the muggles!"
Minister Bones snorted unfazed:
"That's because their Ministry is neck deep into the Muggles' politics. They recently orchestrated the fall of the Muggle USSR and the country was already struggling economically before the Inferi invasion. At this rate, if the Russian magicals don't intervene directly the Muggle country will collapse for real."
Unfortunately, at that moment, a bell-like sound rang signifying the end of the 5 minutes.
A few moments later, the Supreme Mugwump spoke again:
"35.5% in favour. 40% against. 24.5% abstained from vote. Results inconclusive."
Narrowing his eyes at the percentage of delegations abstaining from voting, the Russian Ministry of Magic spoke again:
"24.5% did not vote. I need to hear reason."
Following his words, however, nobody spoke momentarily. It was then that Amelia Bones stood up and, holding her wand under her chin to magically amplify her voice, she said:
"I am Amelia Bones, the Minister of Magic of Great Britain and Ireland. I cannot vote until we know the extent to which we are supposed to aid the Muggles."
Murmurs could be heard from the crowd at her words but if she felt pressured, the stoic woman did not show it on her face.
"Some of you might not know but most Europeans should be acquainted with the situation in our lands. The Dark Lord Voldemort has risen once again."
At her words, shocked cries erupted from quite a few people all over the chamber.
"But...But he was killed! Didn't he die when he tried to kill Neville Longbottom, the Boy Who Lived?! How can he be back?! You expect us to believe such rumours?" the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic asked in disbelief.
Wizards and Witches from distant parts of the world like South America, East China or Oceania were not familiar with the name because Voldemort had never become an international threat like Grindelwald but all the Europeans present in the cave were keenly aware of Lord Voldemort's acts of terror around a decade ago in Western Europe.
"Considering that I had barely escaped an assassination attempt on my life only a few months ago, I assure you, Minister, the Dark Lord is back," she spat back at him, not taking kindly to being called a liar.
Turning her attention towards the Supreme Mugwump, she said:
"With that being said, what is the degree of involvement that is expected from us?"
The Russian Minister said flatly:
"Everything in our power to cull Inferi plague. Finding cure, healing infected Muggles, repairing important infrastructure objectives that had been damaged. As long as Statute of Secrecy is maintained nothing is off table."
Not missing a beat, Amelia Bones said before placing her wand on the left armrest of her chair:
"Unfortunately, the British Ministry cannot spare the manpower for such extensive involvement. We have far more pressing issues and to babysit the Muggles."
With Amelia Bones fearlessly breaking the ice, the President of MACUSA, a middle-aged American with a sharp moustache and a goatee also stood up and said:
"I was thinking at first that it would be wiser to follow the will of the majority in this case. Seeing as there is no clear conclusion though, I shall give you an answer now. The magical folk of the United States of America have no love lost for the No-Maj. The Witch Trials had been seen as a joke by Wizarding World at large but unlucky or careless wizards and witches did happen to die sometimes. Four witches and a young girl had been killed by the No-Maj during the Salem Witch Trials in 1693. We have no desire to help those who had tried to murder our kind. Besides, I don't know about the situation across the ocean but in the United States, although the No-Maj had been hit hard in the beginning and suffered many casualties, at the present, the Inferi outbreak is firmly under control. The No-Maj of this country are well armed and capable of defending themselves."
Finished with his explanation, the President of MACUSA followed Minister Bones' example and placed his wand on the left armrest of his chair before sitting down.
Before another Minister could stand up and explain the reason for their refusal to vote, a tall dark-skinned young man with a bushy beard stood up and said loudly:
"I have a question for everyone here: why should we help the Muggles?"
Ignoring people's murmurs, he continued:
"Is this not the chance we've all been waiting for? Is this not the best opportunity for us to finally break free of our shackles? Are you not tired of hiding?"
"Who speaks?" the Supreme Mugwump abruptly cut him off. "Only Ministers are allowed to stand. You are not Minister."
"He is Bilal Asar and he is my representative," the Egyptian Minister spoke up. "Due to my illness acting up," - he coincidentally broke into a coughing fit and didn't finish his words but the Russian Minister got the gist of it.
As the Egyptian Minister started coughing his lungs out and could no longer talk, Alexei Orlov turned his attention back to his representative and said:
"Free from what shackles? Young man, I say you go back home. Research history. Learn more. Then speak next time."
With a face betraying his anger, the young man's voice rose to the point where he was almost shouting now:
"Free from hiding like rats! WE are the chosen ones! WE were blessed by magic! English magical researcher Bellatrix Black had proven only a few years ago that magic cannot come from Muggles! Why should we cower in front of the Muggles? Why should we hide when we can rule them all? United, we could take over the world and sit at the place where wizards and witches had always been meant to be: at the top! We are meant to rule!"
His brazen speech left most of the diplomats in the cave momentarily speechless. But the Supreme Mugwump was far from impressed.
"Free from what shackles? Naive and stupid. You don't understand anything about world," he said harshly, not mincing his words. Before the young man could retort, the Russian Minister continued:
"Russian Ministry of Magic took down Muggle totalitarian regime and broke USSR 4 years ago. Russian Hit-Wizards poisoned and killed Vladimir Lenin decades ago after he tried to blackmail Muggleborn wizards and witches to become his subordinates. We killed Stalin in same way too some years later. Russian Ministry of Magic removed tsar and royal family during Russian Revolution too. Russian Witch whose daughter was killed by Monoglian invaders infiltrated Genghis Khan camp and tortured him with Cruciatus Curse for one entire night. At the end she cast Imperius Curse on him and made him commit suicide."
"List goes on. We have no shackles. Russian Ministry rules all from shadows."
The Ministers and diplomats in the cave felt chills running down their backs as they listened to the Supreme Mugwump's words. The Russian Magicals being involved in the Muggle country's politics was an "open secret" but very few had been aware of just how deep their involvement truly was. Most magicals across the Globe wanted to have as little contact with the Muggles as possible and there were even countries where the Minister of Magic did not keep in touch with their Muggle counterparts at all. Wizards and Witches, in general, had no interest in the world of Muggles.
A deafening silence had been instilled after the Russian Minister finished speaking. However, all of a sudden, a terrible tremor shook the entire cave from its foundations.
Extremely quick to react, several dozens of Aurors had instantly grabbed onto their respective Ministers and tried to Disapparate or Portkey away, only for every single one of them to bounce back and fall on the ground painfully as if they had crashed into an invisible wall.
Another powerful tremor shook the cave and the enchanted gems embedded into the ceiling started falling down together with sharp stalactites and other forms of debris. However, none of the wizards and witches accompanying the Ministers of Magic from all over the world was a slouch. Hundreds of bright domes of light were conjured at once, protecting everyone from harm.
When another tremor shook the cave again, an enormous hole was all of a sudden blasted into the right side of the cave, filling the air with sand, dust and debris.
As the six hundred wizards and witches all pointed their wands towards the newly-created hole, a silence that one could hear a pin drop was instilled in the cave.
When a humanoid silhouette appeared under the bright rays of sun peering inside the cave through the hole, several Aurors shouted at the same time:
"Who are you? Identify yourself!"
As he stepped through the hole into the cave and everyone realized that it was just one man, they involuntarily relaxed. Moreover, the young man appeared as though he was wounded - blood was gushing out like a stream from an open wound at his thigh.
Instead of answering their question, the intruder said something that only a handful of people understood the meaning of. And that handful of people paled when they heard his words:
"Ekwensu. Receive my sacrifice and show me your strength!"
Just as he started his chant, one of the wizards standing at the Egyptian Ministry of Magic's side suddenly blasted off in the air in a manner no different than that of a wraith, straight towards the demolished part of the cave.
The European wizards and witches present at the meeting let out cries of shock at the sight of the man flying unassisted. Out of all the wizards in the world, in all of wizardkind's history, nobody else had been capable of such a feat. Nobody except for one particular wizard. A wizard that had fashioned for himself a new and terrible name that few had the courage to say out loud: the Flight of Death, Dark Lord Voldemort.
⁂
As Harry finished his chant, all the blood pouring out from his thigh floated up in the air and flew outside the cave towards the place where he had hidden his Voodoo Totem. Most people didn't know what to make of the situation but Bellatrix Black and the delegation of wizards and witches from Nigeria understood right away what was about to come.
At that exact moment, the flying wizard suddenly cried out and crashed down, right in front of the hole leading outside.
Coming back from their momentary shock, dozens of Aurors swished and flicked their wands, casting all kinds of curses and spells... only for them to become stupefied and fall into panic as they felt their magic not responding to their will.
"I should've done that from the beginning," Harry muttered to himself in regret.
Supremely confident in the power of his totems and his martial might, he had never imagined that Voldemort would be capable of such terrible suicidal attacks back when he had assaulted Minister Bones' home. And he had paid for it. He had died once and he had even lost an arm now in order to find Voldemort again.
But he had learned his lesson. There was no holding back now, no chance for Voldemort to counterattack anymore because Harry had already deployed all of his totems outside the cave. While nobody could cast any magic in the area of effect of the Voodoo Totem (Harry included), the support received from his other totems made him no different than a lion among sheep.
"How kind of you to deliver yourself straight into my hands," Harry said as he approached Voldemort who was just picking himself up from the floor at that moment.
"I- I can't feel any magic! What have you done?!" Voldemort screamed. A deep terror was etched on his face.
Harry did not entertain him with an answer. Enhanced by the blessing of his Wind Rush and Ironskin totems, he lunged at Voldemort with the speed of a Cheetah and grabbed him roughly by the throat before slamming him violently into the ground. Voldemort's sight went white for a moment as the blinding pain coming from the back of his head and spine almost knocked him out.
Oscillating between staying awake and losing his consciousness, the Dark Lord could only desperately claw with all his strength at the hand gripping his throat like a vice. But the Ironskin Totem had increased Harry's physical strength and durability to such a degree that Voldemort cried out in pain as his nails snapped when he tried to claw at his hand.
The rest of the wizards and witches in the cave had yet to recover from the shock of losing their ability to cast magic. They could only watch stupefied how the intruder lifted the alleged Dark Lord from the ground with one hand, by the throat.
Desperate gasps and choked groans came from Voldemort as Harry slowly tightened his fingers around his throat.
"I've already found your precious little coffin," Harry whispered.
At his words, Voldemort started kicking and flailing his arms even more desperately than before. All the while, Harry smiled mockingly.
"It was well-protected, I'll give you that. You've even cast the Fidelius Charm on it... if I hadn't had a piece of your soul, your dear Diary, to use it as an offering, I would have never been able to find it. But I did. I burned it to ashes. Mind you, I used the Fiendfyre Curse, just to be sure."
Harry watched unblinkingly how Voldemort's body slowly came to a still. His feet stopped kicking the air and his bloodied hands stopped clawing at his arm. His fingers still clenched around his throat, Harry could no longer feel his pulse.
In a display of barbaric violence and brutality, Harry threw Voldemort's corpse on the ground and suddenly stomped his foot on his head, smashing it like a watermelon into a bloody paste.
Just like the last time, a wraith rose from Voldemort's lifeless and headless body. However, all it could do was vanish through the walls of the cave, escaping because, under the effect of Ekwensu's Totem, the Wraith could not cast the Curse of the Damned again.
As if woken from a dream, dozens of Aurors broke into a run, intent on apprehending Harry even without their magic, by using physical means. But, they were too late to react as Harry blurred out from the cave like a gust of wind. By the time the Aurors climbed their way up through the hole, he was nowhere to be found. Harry had long since cancelled the magic of totems, collected them, and Disapparated away.
⁂
The ICW Summit had been thrown into chaos. Not only that someone had broken into the extremely well-warded location of their meeting but it was also revealed that a Dark Lord had been sitting among them the entire time. Furthermore, the intruder had somehow cancelled their magic and eliminated the Dark Lord by choking him to death before they even had the time to react.
While most people were still recovering from their shock, a feeling of unease washed over Bellatrix.
'That had to be Harry.'
He had been wearing a completely different appearance but Bellatrix had a feeling it was him. In the first place, she was deeply familiar with Harry's totems and the spirits whose powers he borrowed. Furthermore, the disdain that she used to have for Shamanism had not been unwarranted - Harry was an anomaly. She had never heard of any other wizard or witch - be they shaman or not - capable of summoning tornadoes or cancelling the magic of several hundred people at once. Most Shamans weren't that powerful, not by a mile.
'Blimey, he's gone mad for good this time. Single-handedly crashing the ICW summit and killing Voldemort in such a brutal manner in front of everyone here...'
As she thought of that, the feeling of unease in her heart started growing stronger than before.
'Why would he try to kill Voldemort now? No... He knows that Voldemort would just come back again. Harry is not an imbecile. He wouldn't attack Voldemort unless... -Unless he's already found a way to kill him for good!'
Her eyes widened in surprise as a new thought came to her mind.
'If that's the case then- by Morgana! Don't tell me he's going to go after the Longbottom boy next too!'
"Amelia, we have to go!" she suddenly grabbed the Minster by the arm and shook her. "Mad-Eye! Jones! Activate the portkey! NOW" she yelled at them when they appeared to be hesitating.
In spite of how lovable and harmless Harry seemed to be in his daily life, he had shown Bellatrix on more than one occasion just how cruel and decisive he could be at times. She feared that it was for the sake of killing Voldemort for good, he wouldn't hesitate to kill Neville Longbottom at all. Bellatrix had not forgotten how, for the sake of lifting up the Jinx over the DADA teaching position and making sure that she would be safe, Harry had been contemplating even going as far as to breed a Basilisk in order to force Moaning Myrtle into the Veil of Death if she had decided not to go by herself.
Even as the two Aurors quickly complied with her order and activated the portkey after she yelled at them, she could not help biting her lower lip in worry and impatience. Never before had she wished so badly for her deductions to be wrong.
'I hope I'm wrong. Please let me be wrong.'
She considered killing filth undeserving of forgiveness like the Death Eaters as a noble deed, a service to humanity. But she did not want Harry to stain his hands with the blood of an innocent boy like Neville Longbottom.
'It would weigh on his conscience forever, it would scar him for life.'
Although she was not a religious person, at that moment, Bellatrix prayed.
'Please let me get to Hogwarts in time!'
AN: a reminder for those of you who might have forgotten the path that Voldemort had taken in this fic to become immortal:
1. He had only 1 Horcrux, the Diary. Neville Longbottom is an unintended Horcrux (just like Harry had been in the canon).
2. He succeeded in stealing the Philosopher's Stone in year 1 and brought himself back to life. After that, he decided not to make more Horcruxes because he realized that splitting his soul too many times would rob him of his sanity (he killed Nagini out of annoyance at the time too).
3. He unearthed the ancient secrets of the Great Pyramid of Giza (before also blowing it up) and created for himself a phylactery (the sarcophagus on which he had embedded the Philosopher's stone). He became no different than a Lich. Voldemort raising an army of undead and causing an apocalyptic catastrophe is also a reference to him becoming a Lich.
At the end of this chapter, Neville Longbottom is the only thing still keeping Voldermort's wraith in the realm of the living, albeit terribly weakened.