Chapter Thirteen: Mapping Armageddon

            New Ministry Meets with Hecate

                        By: Lewis Llewellyn

            London- Minister of Magic Dimitri Byron is hosting Master at Arms Aiden Hawke and his entourage today, as they discuss the newest security measures and a possible offensive strike. This comes almost a month after the vicious attack on the Ministry of Magic general conference that left England without a ruling government for one long hour. This attack was orchestrated by a new foe the Death Eater, self-dubbed the Black Prince, has claimed he is the successor of the Dark Prince whose attacks on individuals made him a legend. This new Prince shows a startling difference from his predecessor, allowing no discernment, attacking both civilian and soldier. His attack on the Ministry was supplemented by various attacks on influential Minister's families. He effectively wiped out not only men but also memory in his brutal attack.

Then, with praise-worthy speed, the secondary government was formed and granted power. Now, in accordance with an emergency general election, Dimitri Byron has been installed to finish Fudge's term of office. Readers will remember his somewhat controversial appointment as late Minister Fudge's chief aide because of his ties with the supposed "Hogwarts Illuminatti," a group of influential families that later were exposed as followers of You-Know-Who. Among his appointees for new Ministers included: Arthur Weasley, Amos Diggory, Dylan Delacriox, Chastity Remington and Gideon Mallory and then, in a largely contested move he removed Walden McNair and Lucius Malfoy from the offices and positions of power they've held. He has also arrested and jailed numerous Ministry workers without charging them formally.  Also, critics will say he forced the vote of the IWC last week to return Hecate's sovereignty to the Compound. (Full that full story, see page 11a)

The meeting today will include Byron, and Minister of Law Enforcement Gideon Mallory and is expect to last throughout the week. Also present during the meetings will be representatives from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry who will be acting on behalf of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. The Daily Prophet has been denied knowledge of the exact location of meeting with Hawke, due to new security measures. However, Minister Byron has assured us that he plans address the nation about this upcoming threat. He has also sworn a quick vengeance.

"We know one thing for certain, the Black Prince is short on time and support. We believe this has caused him to accelerate his plans before he has properly understood all the variables." Phoenix Hawke rang clear against the whitewashed walls of Hecate Compound. He was standing at the head of the table, motioning to the papers in his folders where everything about the war was measured and weighed and understood. "To that end, this most recent action has gone to show us…"

"Excuse me." Byron said carefully, raising his hand to stop Hawke. "Did you say 'action,' Master at Arms?"

Hawke threw a glance at Severus who was sitting directly across from Byron. Snape, anticipating a problem sat up, nodding at Hawke to continue. "Yes, sir I did."

"Sixty-five elected officials were killed, sir, and with them, the families of thirty of the most influential members. These men and women were wives and husbands, children and parents and I will not have you label away their death in my presence as a mere military action." Bryon said with passion cracking his voice. Beside him, his cousin and Hogwarts representative, Amissa Moon took his hand and squeezed.

Snape met Amissa's eyes thankfully. She merely nodded at him before turning away. His eyes lingered on her long after hers had passed, partially in awe of seeing the child he had known in school- and then, the innocent girl who had taken Sydney's heart by storm, now in a position of authority and prestige. For him, Amissa belonged in the past and as such a vision; she had been untouched by the age and hardship that had turned him. She had remained his mind as whole and young and lovely as Dora or Billy…

Or Ari.

With his heart twisting in his chest, Snape turned to the only person not sitting at the table in the room. Becka was pressed against the corner near the door, watching and appearing to remain aloof to the proceedings of the room. She had a cigarette in her hand but it was unlit and just nestled there-probably to give her something to do.

Their eyes met for a brief spell, before Hawke's voice broke Snape's concentration on his fallen angel with the only words that could have.

"We believe there is a spy somewhere inside the information network, Minister. Through him, we believe that the Black Prince was able to gain access to the meeting and commit his crime. We also believe this person is the one who has forced the Prince's hand to move now."

"How? How can one person sway the course of war?" Bryon asked.

"Ask Snape." Becka said from her hiding place. She walked forward and flinched visibly from the light she passed through.

Byron met her eyes, then Hawke's. He inhaled. "Then I want the spy's head. I want you to focus all of your resources on retrieving him for me. He should be our main goal."

"Well," Becka said sweetly, "If you want him, here I…"

"This is not the time for spy hunting." Snape said, startling Hawke and Amissa with the passion and strain in his voice. "Trying to find a Judas only subtracts from what should be our real goal: defeating the Dark Lord. Believe me…" He added softly. "nothing good comes of it…" Becka was watching him keenly now, and despite herself, poured him a glass of water from a pitcher set out for them. She studied his hands as they brought the cup to his mouth, trembling as if cold. Snape was aware of his trembling but could not stop it, so instead he merely set the cup down and looked up. "Don't you agree, Minister?"

Remus Lupin, the other Hogwarts envoy, chose this time to speak. "So now that the Black Prince is rushed to act again, where and how will he act?"

"He doesn't need prove anything now, so this attack will be for the gold." Hawke said.

Snape smiled gratefully at Remus before continuing. "And that means even Voldemort himself will fight this time and he'll go after what he wants most of all…"

"Hecate and Hogwarts." Becka said, simply and with it, cutting through all the foreshadowing and unnecessary brooding. She flicked her fingers together, igniting the cigarette and inhaled deeply. Quietly, knowing she had the attention of everyone in the room, she exhaled with leisure and then spoke again. "The Dark Lord, his Prince and every other little thing that goes bump in the night he can ally with will come down on Hogwarts and Hecate…and it'll happen soon."

"How soon?" Bryon asked.

"He'll attack first of November." Snape said; staring hard at the cup of water as if it gave him sight into the future. "For Hogwarts, it'll be the day after Halloween and the school will be recouping from the feast. For Hecate…"

"For Hecate, it'll be the day the Dark Prince first attacked. The day Hecate fell."

"We'll have to shut down the orphanage then, and the school." Hawke muttered. "Send all the kids and non-essential personnel to Arsan Duolai. We'll send whatever Aurors we can to Hogwarts, to protect the school. Unless the Minister will close down Hogwarts?"

"Dumbledore wouldn't allow it." Amissa shot out. "Besides, if we run and hide…when will stop?"

"Will there be any other attacks on civilian outposts? I mean, do I need to fear anyone else's families being slaughtered…Hogsmeade, Godric's Hallow?"

"No," Snape said softly. "Like Hawke said, there's nothing to prove here. All this is going to be about is death. It'll be the final battle. There'll be no going back."

It took those words to seal the deed. Amissa pushed away from the table to hide in her hands. Beside her, Remus shifted and pulled her closer into his arms. Gideon, who had sat the entire time in stoic silence, began to whisper to Byron possible additional courses of action. Hawke merely glanced back to his files, determined not be affected.

"You six people have just mapped out your part of Armageddon." Becka said crisply from her new perch in a large chair at the fair end of the table. The cigarette hung between her fingers letting the smoke waft to the heavens. "Congratulations."

Snape pushed away from the table and he too rested his head in hands.

And he prayed for his son.

 

"Mother…Mother…no, stop. Please, stop…no, mother…MOTHER!"

Mordred Eames jolted up in bed, sweating and tangled up in his bed sheets. His bare chest rose and fell quickly from the fear that was pulsing through his body. He turned and stared out the window, looking at the thin slice of moon before running his fingers through his hair. He pulled himself out of bed and walked towards the vanity.

The man staring back at him was handsome, with shaggy black hair falling at all angles around his sallow face. Thin, with high cheekbones that jutted from his skin, his wine colored eyes blazed from his face. His eyes traveled down to his body, specifically to the spikes that peered just over his shoulders. On his back, following his shoulder muscles and all the way down to his hands was a tribal style tattoo of dark purple. Purple was the color of royalty and majesty in Britain and he had chosen it for that very reason. His mother had always taken great pains to instill within Mordred his own nobility that it seemed only proper that he should always bear this color. The design itself was chosen for its irregularity and its similarity to the countless scars that he had given to himself in hopes of drawing blood and forcing himself to feel pain.

Even as he recounted those moments, part of him craved for a knife to create it again. He longed to feel again something that would bring him back. Something that would force him to relive emotions, to keep them as memories like his tattoos and give him a history that had nothing to do with destroying the only thing he desired in life…

"My Prince?" Mordred turned to see Choice enter his room. Choice was barefoot, with sweatpants on and nothing else. He walked towards Mordred, and stopped when he discovered Mordred was naked. Throwing his head down, Choice licked his lips before speaking again. "Forgive me, Prince. I thought you were in trouble."

"Come to help my assailant?" Mordred snorted angrily. He stood and slipped into the robe that hung off his chair. "Would you have just taken my life by yourself?"

"I came to protect you, milord."

"Why?"

"Because you are my Prince."

Mordred tilted his head as he walked slowly to Choice, cupping the man's chin in his hand. He stared into Choice's cobalt eyes for a long time. "Why are you here? For a memory and a hope?"

"That's all I have left."

"Now, you sound like Eoin." Mordred snorted and turned away, "So, what happened today in the Court?"

"Lord Voldemort was finalizing the battle plans." Choice said feeling bold and walking to Mordred. He put his arms on the Prince's elbows and guided him back to the bed. "Isaiah and Ezra just left. Lucius is still talking with Imre."

"And I was not invited?"

"It was felt that you should be allowed to focus on Severus…"

"In other words, I'm used to provoke fear and nothing else." He said, bitterly. "I'm nothing to these people but a hired, cultivated boogeyman. My father was Prince and general of the armies! My mother was feared, as the Dark Lord's would be heir! Imre and Eoin were my teachers…and look at me." Mordred traced his vein on his wrist and pretended his finger was a blade. "I am nothing but a parlor trick."

Choice said nothing as he returned the Prince to his bed. He didn't know what to say. What do you say to the killer of your soul mate? What do you say to the boogeyman? Despite the fact, he may have no real threat or prowess; he was still a dark and formidable creature. He was still the devil and how do you comfort the devil?

This was no story where the devil was something that could be stripped away and revealed as just an actor. This was no figment of a dark dreaming, and the battle that would come into play would be fierce and final. And this boy, shivering from nightmares in the dark, was pivotal to it- all because of his feud with his father.

"You hate me, don't you me?" Mordred's voice asked. "That's alright, you're supposed to. I'm supposed to be hated. Everyone hates me…even my father."

"What would you have do instead, my Prince, when you have killed his daughter."

"Love his son."