The Lightsaber
By: Tellemicus Sundance
#15: Conspiracies and Misunderstandings

Brussels, Belgium
March 10, 1996

Never let it be said that Sirius Black was a man of politics or subtlety. He had always preferred to use his wits, good looks, and natural charm to help him escape from many otherwise troublesome situations. And when he couldn't use any of those to help him, he'd just bulldoze through the opposition with a combination of his topnotch spellcasting and inventive genius. It was one of several reasons how he and his friends had built up their reputations as notorious pranksters and bullies while at Hogwarts. And the situation he was presently in now held many similarities to those times when he and the Marauders had gotten caught by the various professors and/or Prefects of his beloved old school.

He was seated near the front of a court room, surrounded by Muggles with a few of his self-appointed Lycan bodyguards behind him. The line of politicians seated at a row of tables on a raised dais reminded him heavily of the Great Hall of Hogwarts and the politicians as the professors. And while he had many other politicians surrounding him on similar dais, it strangely only reinforced that commonality to him, as long as he substituted those people as his fellow students and not as the grim-faced shriveled old men that they really were. It was for these similarities that he found his attention to the proceedings waning nearly instantly, causing him to glance around the chamber. Rather coincidentally, seated near him was a rather sharply dressed woman with eye-catching blonde-white hair. His gaze had been drawn to her very quickly, which is why he'd been leaning back and trying to start up a conversation with flirtatious comments about her attractive looks.

"Mr. Black!" a loud voice called from ahead him, causing him to turn around to face it.

"Yes, dear?" he asked into the microphone that was in front him. It never ceased to amuse him at some of the technological inventions the Muggles came up with, such as the mechanical contraption that worked as a Sonorous Charm. So, he had quite a bit of fun speaking into it and hearing his voice echo around the chamber.

"Can we focus on the matter at hand?" the gray-haired, chubby, and rather whiny politician asked. Sirius didn't even care enough to glance at his nameplate to see just who the man was.

"Absolutely," he said, giving up on his flirting attempt. It had quickly become clear to him that the woman was about as responsive to his advances as a rock wall. So, it'd probably be more fun to poke and needle at the politicians. Plus he knew that he needed to get this ridiculous meeting finished anyway, so no need to further procrastinate. So, he irritably fixed his tie as he faced forward again and straightened his expensive business suit.

Why did Muggle politicians have to wear such uncomfortable and easily wrinkled suits that cost so damn much? Heck, now that he thought about it, their Wizarding counterparts were much the same, just with robes. The similarities were disparaging and annoying, to say the least. He made a mental note to pull the duo responsible for all of this aside so he could give them a thorough chewing out when he got back to London…assuming there were still pieces of their corpses left after Remus was finished with them.

"Returning to the business at hand," the man said, giving Sirius the evil eye for the blatant disrespect, which was promptly ignored. "Our priority in this meeting for you to turn over the two warplanes and their pilots that attacked a NATO escort force over the North Sea on the 8th of March, 1996 at approximately 10am. As according to the Regulation—"

"And you can forget it," Sirius interrupted, not interested in hearing the man drone on about his laws anymore. "While the pilots of those jetfighters were clearly in the wrong, I don't find it necessary to force their early retirement due to a misunderstanding on the affair. After all, how were they to know that they'd be shooting at a pair of advanced prototype jetfighters that put theirs to shame in every way imaginable?" Oh yes, Sirius was having a bit too much fun riling up the various bureaucrats by 'misunderstanding' what they were saying. This was why he was never allowed to go into politics back in the day. His dear parents knew that he'd trample all over the age-old customs and regulations with no care in the world. Not that he'd been inclined to go into politics in the first place, but that's beside the point. "Frankly, it'd be an embarrassing way to end their careers."

"Are you suggesting that our pilots, two very distinguished veterans of the Gulf War, were in the wrong for attacking a pair of unknown and hostile jetfighters that were in a Restricted Airspace?" the bureaucrat demanded, glaring at Sirius hotly.

"I'm merely saying that they were a little trigger-happy and probably didn't even attempt to make contact with my pilots," Sirius clarified. Digging into his pocket as he glanced at the various large monitors that surrounded the chamber, he pulled out a little tablet the size of a television remote. Turning it on as he continued speaking, he held it up in front of the largest television while he began typing in various commands. "In fact, let's see the incident in question, shall we?" Behind the gathered table in front of him, the television screen suddenly lit up with the words 'Welcome to Belgium, Mr. Black'.

Laughing softly to himself as the many dignitaries turned around in surprise and alarm as their televisions began flashing the same message, Sirius said, "Look at that! I took control of your screens. It works like magic!" Oh the irony in that statement was almost enough to make him want to laugh out loud!

"How are you doing that?!" one of the politicians called out, both startled and excited. He wasn't the only one as many of the others were visibly disturbed or interested in just what he was doing with the strange device he had in his hands.

Sirius ignored him as he hit the 'play' button, the screens turning blue with a familiar pair of jetfighters flying through various clouds not far up ahead. "Okay, people, let's see this bloody battle from your point of view. I believe this is the footage that your tech guys were going to supply for this sojourn." Turning to another large monitor near it, he typed in a different series of commands. "And this here is the footage that was recorded by my prototypes' black boxes."

As they watched the footage, Sirius couldn't help but arch an eyebrow as he saw some pretty big and somewhat obvious differences that were taking place practically side-by-side. For one, the government's 'official version' had changed the Phoenix and Tornado's places so that it was the Phoenix who was relentless attacking the frantically evading Tornado with wrong-colored plasma blasts. Another difference was that when the Dragon came swooping it, its plasma blasts actually critically damaged the Tornado and forced the pilot to eject.

During the whole playing, several of the politicians and their assistants were scurrying about under the televisions, trying to disconnect them and ceasing the footage. But it was far too late for that. The two-minute aerial dogfight had already played through by the time they finally managed to kill the screens. Despite himself, Sirius couldn't help but uttering a somewhat stunned "Wow, you people really are shameless, aren't you? So, what? You were trying to blackmail my company into turning over our technology for you to fiddle with at your own leisure?"

"This doesn't change the fact that your pilots failed to cooperate with our pilots when they attempted to handle the situation."

"Honestly, I'd probably have done the same," Sirius admitted nonchalantly. "I unfortunately have a tendency of not reacting well when people just start shooting at me for no apparent reason and without warning."

"But that also doesn't change the fact that you're developing unregistered, untested, and potentially unstable weapons of considerable and likely mass destruction without a legal agreement with any military or government faction on United Kingdom soil for either said nation, NATO, or even the UN," the speaker pointed out, somewhat triumphantly. "And the United Kingdoms doesn't condone the development of previously-stated unregistered weapons of mass destruction, as well as the sale of said weapons to any personnel within its borders without a certified right to own—"

"So, you just thought you could force me to give you the rights to my company and company's tech for you to dissect and replicate for yourselves," Sirius said bluntly, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"It is illegal all over the world for a single entity to have a total monopoly on any particular trade or invention," one of the bureaucrats said, somewhat self-righteously. "And we are under no allusions that you and yours do not intend to share your technological breakthroughs with the rest of the world in any way, excluding those you've deemed appropriate to sell on the open market."

"But of course," Sirius said, speaking slowly and deliberately, as though trying to communicate with a very young and ignorant child. "It'd be highly irresponsible and just downright stupid of me to just make everything my technicians have created made available to public when we still haven't entirely discovered just what kinds of impact it'll have on the world as a whole." It was time to break out the big secret he'd been holding back. It probably wouldn't solve the core of the problem, but it'd definitely buy him and MagiTech some time. "So, as I said before, you can forget it. But, to be perfectly honest, there is something I've been holding back on that you've been hounding me for a lot recently. I hadn't intended to reveal this tidbit of information until after the testing phase had been completed and we could go into full production."

"And what 'secret' is that?" the speaker asked, leaning forward ever-so-slightly in obvious anticipation. The man probably thought it was some sort of hint at an industrial conspiracy that he could use to further his cause, whatever it might ultimately be.

"After much deliberation and consideration." By Merlin and all that was magical, it was annoying having to tap into his Pureblood roots to speak like an uptight bureaucrat like that. But he suspected it'd help him in his cause. "I have finally and formally decided to accept the military contracts put forth by several NATO countries, including but not limited to the USA, France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and of course the UK."

There was a momentary silence that filled the chamber as Sirius paused to take a breath. Clearly, none of the gathered delegates suspected that he'd unveil such a secret in this situation. "The two jetfighters that your armed forces had had a brief skirmish with are little more than untested experiments of various technologies that we were planning on introducing and selling as part of those military contracts. Technologies such as the plasma guns, ray-shield generators, weaponized Repulsor Drives and Rune Sparks, as well as various other minor creations."

He paused again as he let that information sink in. Glancing over at the various Muggle reporters and camera crews, he grinned over at them as he continued, "And while we're on the subject, I'd also like to personally thank the pilots of those two Tornado jetfighters who'd gotten into the fight with my pilots. You gentlemen provided some very valuable combat data that we otherwise probably wouldn't have been able to acquire in such a timely and unique manner. And rest assured, the pilots of the two prototypes are being punished for acting out of such stupidity."

Turning back to the gathered bureaucrats, he finished by saying, "So, you, the various governments and militaries, and everyone else who's working to get a peek at the workings of our tech will just have to wait for when we complete our prototype testing and sell you the finished products, and not a moment sooner… Now, if that's all that we had to discuss, I'll just say that it's not been a pleasure to waste my time here with you old farts. I've got a business to run and some matters of relative importance to attend to with all due haste. So, I bid you a good day."

He stood up from his seat and made his way out of the court room, largely ignoring the bureaucrats behind him as they called for him to return to his seat, as well as the numerous reporters who were quick to rush him with many questions and whatnot. It was with great pleasure that he climbed into his luxurious black limo and relaxed into the seat as the car lifted up into the sky and flew back to the MagiTech factory.

North Sea, onboard the Warlock

The Warlock was a very small and cramped vessel to Tonks. While it had more than a few appealing characteristics, the rec room qualifying high on the list of positives, it was still a very narrow and limited area for her. In a way, it gave her a sense of claustrophobia due to the cramped nature it possessed. Then again, it wasn't really designed for long-term inhabitation with no access to the outside and it paled in comparison to many of the magical equivalents that were so used in the Wizarding World, who often used a judicious amount of space enlargement charms to widen the interior to be more comfortable.

'How Harry has managed to remain cooped up in this floating tin can for more than a week is beyond me,' Tonks thought, feeling somewhat sympathetic to the boy's plight and more than little amazed that he could do it for so long.

"I was wondering how things were going for you," Tonks said as she opened the door to the room that the boy in question had claimed for himself. She knew that he was busy, but she also knew that he'd been making no progress and was likely starting to really get frustrated. "How are you doing?"

"Awful," Harry said bluntly as he opened his eyes. He was floating a meter off the ground with his hands clenched into a light fists, knuckles pressed together over his crossed-legged lap. "No matter how much power I try to force into it, how much I try to coerce the seabed, or try to summon the earth, it just doesn't respond. The seabed is set and strong. I just can't seem to break through it deep enough to get it to work!"

"Sounds like you're beating your head against a brick wall," Tonks said, smiling lightly as his frustrated expression. He was such a kid that at times like this she was reminded that he wasn't even out of school yet. "And it sounds like you need a break."

"I can go a bit longer," Harry said, closing his eyes and raising his fists level with his chest. "And besides, your presence is a kind of…"

"Yeeeessss?" Tonks drawled out, grinning somewhat impishly as she caught a flicker of discomfort on his face. Her hair reflected her amusement as it turned a brighter shade of pink.

"…Your presence is…soothing to me," Harry admitted after a moment. "Maybe I can actually do it this time."

"No," Tonks said somewhat sternly, stepping into the room. Walking up to the floating boy, she grabbed one of his arms and pulled him, intentionally breaking his concentration and causing him to drop to the floor. Thankfully for his dignity, he'd managed to land on his feet without embarrassing himself. Though he still stumbled as Tonks had continued tugging at his arm, pulling him out of the room. "You've been cooped up in here for the past week. You need a break and I know just the way to do that."

"And what's that?" Harry asked, finally regaining his balance as Tonks was now pushing and guiding him towards the cockpit.

"Once you park this floating tin car, you're taking me for a night out on the town," Tonks declared, growing her height somewhat so that she could suitably glare down at him and give a visual demonstration of his lack of choice in the matter.

"…Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Harry couldn't help asking before he was roughly pushed towards the pilot seat. "I mean, you're the one forcing me to do this."

"But it's customary for the man to treat the lady," Tonks stated.

"There's a lady here?" Harry asked, blinking in surprise and glancing back down the long hallway to try and find the lady in question. "Where? I don't sense her anywhere. Is she waiting for me back at MagiTech?"

Despite the mounting aggravation that Tonks felt at Harry all but openly saying that she wasn't a lady, an impish sneer pulled across her face as she adjusted her story. "In fact, she is. I set you up with a hot blind date, and you better be on your best behavior! I don't want to be made a fool of for setting all this up for you, Master Harry Potter sir."

"You've been talking to Dobby again," Harry drawled, somewhat annoyed as he began fiddling with the computer. Once taking the Warlock off of the autopilot, he gently swung it to the side and guided it back towards London. With its invisibility shield, he had no worries of anyone seeing the flying vehicle as it came in for a landing on the factory's rooftop.

"How do you think I got aboard in the first place?" Tonks asked honestly. "He, among others, is getting worried about you. You haven't left this tin car since you flew off and you've rarely spoken to anyone but Sirius, Dudley, and his new girlfriend since then."

"Girlfriend?" Harry asked, surprised and glancing back at the pink-haired woman. "When did that happen?"

"Wartime passions, I'd guess," Tonks said, grinning. "And they're sharing their punishments of revealing the jetfighter prototypes, so they've had lots of bonding time recently."

Chuckling despite himself, Harry nodded and refocused on his task of flying the Warlock. It was a surprisingly difficult job to keep the vehicle flying in a somewhat level fashion that required a relatively-alert pilot. He had his Sorcery awareness to guide him, which only helped to increase his already considerable respect of Ashley Felix. She'd been the pilot of the Warlock when they'd left London and the ride had been incredibly smooth. He knew without a doubt that her natural flying talent far exceeded even his own, which was already quite considerable before he's gained Sorcery. It was truly humbling for him to realize that she could likely still outfly him.

"So, do you have any idea what this 'lady' has planned for this blind date of mine?" Harry asked as they came into sight of the Thames.

"Of course!" Tonks said, her smirk returning. "But I'm not telling you! This is a surprise and I'll not ruin it for her! You'll just have to wait, Mr. Punk-ass Sorcerer."

"Yippee," Harry deadpanned, rolling his eyes slightly. Still, that didn't stop the slight smile that spread across his face. Maybe he might just enjoy himself after all…

#12 Grimmauld Place, London
March 27, 1996

With a flare of green light, the fireplace in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place spontaneously ignited into flames. From the burning green flames, an old body materialized and stepped out of the dusty, smoke-ridden crevice. With an idly flick of his wand, the figure caused all the dust and ash that clung to his body and robes to vanish as though it'd never existed before. Walking forward purposely, the old man stopped at the long table, setting a satchel atop it as he took a seat with an audible sigh of relief.

From behind him, the fireplace flared up once again as another body materialized. Stumbling out of the fireplace with loud thumping sounds due to his peg leg, the second man gruffly repeated the first's actions as he brushed his form free of the ash. "Well, that was an eventful trip."

"Indeed," the elderly first commented. "But it was most assuredly a…profitable one."

"Tsk, maybe for the Goblins it was," Moody grumbled irritable. He hated having to deal with the greedy, little, money-grubbing backstabbers almost as much as he did Dark Wizards. But, at the very least, he respected their fortifications and commitment to defending their gold and domain from thieves. If nothing else, they had a sliver of honor in that. Which was much more than he could say about many, many of the Dark Wizards he'd put away over the years.

"No point in dawdling, Albus," Moody snapped after a moment to catch his breath. "Let's destroy these little nuisances and get it over with."

"Of course, Alastor," Dumbledore agreed, glancing at his long-time friend. While he could appreciate the man's directness in all things Dark-related, it could get trying at times. Such as his complete lack of any desire to observe the proper custom and ceremony when handling and ending such Darkness. Then again, Albus was old enough to acknowledge that that was his inner-Pureblood speaking.

Standing up, the former Headmaster walked over to a hidden compartment he'd built and sealed with powerful magic into the kitchen wall. Opening it revealed an ornately-crafted and highly sought-after blade, the Sword of Gryffindor. Taking the weapon, he couldn't help but once again marvel at how its hilt was able to perfectly match the grip of the wielder and its weight was next to nothing in his old hand. The Goblins who'd forged this sword had truly earned every Knut's worth of the gold that Godric had used to commission it.

Walking back to the kitchen table, Dumbledore saw that Alastor had already emptied the contents of the satchel on it. One was a golden cup with a badger on it, one was a diadem with fine jewels set in it, and the last was a simple looking ring with a triangular black stone. While each of the objects were different and somewhat random, they all had two defining features about them. One was that each of them had been previously owned by the Founders of Hogwarts, and the second was that a young man named Riddle had gotten his hands on them and desecrated the priceless treasures.

"I don't why we had to go to such lengths to gather these pointless knickknacks, Albus," Moody growled, glaring quite pointedly at him. "I know who they used to belong to, but what do they have to do with anything we've been trying to accomplish against Voldemort?"

"Trust me, my friend," Dumbledore said soothingly as he raised the sword. "They each are very important to our mission. They possess something about them that makes them some of the Darkest magic I've ever come across before. And they are very dearly important to Tom Riddle himself."

"I suppose that's reason enough to destroy them," Moody grumbled to himself. Though he was curious what Albus meant by them being so Dark, in the end maybe it was best if he didn't know. The fact that they were so important to Voldemort, enough for him to lay so many dangerous traps to protect them, was all the incentive that Moody needed to see them broken. Although, he did wish that Dumbledore would stop keeping such important secrets to himself, it got bloody annoying really fast!

Three quick hits later, each of the objects had been shattered to pieces. Though he wasn't sure, Moody could've sworn he'd heard a high-pitched death shriek from each of the objects. Regardless of what he may or may not have heard, there was an almost blinding flash of green light that burst out of them when the Sword of Gryffindor struck.

After a moment, Albus let out a long sigh of relief. 'Only two more to go,' he thought with relief and a heavy heart. He knew from Severus that Riddle had recently come into possession of a powerful new snake familiar that he kept very close to his person. Albus had no doubt that the snake had been made into a Horcrux, one that he clearly made as a failsafe in case all of the others were destroyed and would keep safe at all costs for his own life. And the last Horcux was sadly Harry Potter himself. It pained him, but he knew there was no other way around it. The boy would likely have to die in order to ensure Voldemort's final death. And it was a terrible secret that Albus was very reluctant to share with the boy, even more so nowadays with all the trouble that the Ministry was giving him and his friends. He wanted Harry's last days to be ones of happiness.

"Now that that's done with, there's something we need to talk about, Albus," Moody said, sweeping his wand and sending the newfound trash on the tabletop straight into the nearby waste basket.

"And what's that?" Albus asked, staring after the sad remains of the Founders' precious artifacts with obvious remorse.

"Potter!"

"We have discussed this before, Alastor," Albus said, turning back to the man. "Many times already, and I tire of having to repeat the argument."

"That's beside the point," Alastor said, glaring slightly more deeply. Why couldn't the withered old fool get it through his head that the Potter boy was a loose wand with a temper problem? That combination always led to tragedy and destruction to a massive degree! And that wasn't even mentioning the fact that he was practicing such a deadly Dark Art as Sorcery! "I've been hearing some very disgruntling rumors from the Muggle World recently. It would seem that Potter has been busy since he left here."

"Rumors like what?" Albus asked, honestly curious. While he never usually intended it, Harry certainly had a habit of getting caught up in schemes and situations of a much grander scale than most children or men twice his age usually ever experience. So, what had the boy gotten himself stuck in this time? Hopefully nothing too dangerous. Albus really didn't want to risk stretching his luck with the Statute of Secrecy, especially with how Fudge has been looking for any reason to see him thrown into Azkaban recently.

"Aside from the fact that he's gotten the bloody Werewolf Packs organized into actual fighting force that could strike out any and all innocents they want to now?" Moody asked derisively. "I've heard that he's purchased a rundown Muggle building in London. That his minions have developing some new magical weapons, spells, and potions that we've no defense against. That they've been sending scouts out into other countries, like France, Scandinavia, all over Europe, and even bloody America, looking for more recruits from the foreign Werewolf Packs! Plus there's the fact that he's been gaining a lot of gold recently with no apparent source!"

"Oh?" Albus asked, a fair bit more curious at the mention of gold. "And how do you know about his finances? The Goblins usually don't share such information."

"I have my ways," Moody growled, somewhat relishing the fact that he could keep certain secrets from Albus for a change. "But it's a lot of gold. We're talking enough gold to make all the vaults of all the Old Families look like pocket change in comparison."

"That is…curious and alarming," Albus admitted. How could the boy possibly gain such wealth in just a few months' time? It shouldn't have been possible, even with magic! The classical reasoning would've been the boy had gone rogue and gotten involved in some very Dark business. But Alastor had said that these rumors had originated from the Muggle World. What could the boy be doing there to have gotten such wealth and so quickly? Albus knew that the exchange value difference from British pounds to Galleons was considerable. So for the boy to have gotten so much wealth to have made the Old Families' vaults pale in comparison…

"I'll look into this as soon as possible," Albus promised Alastor.

"But that's not even the most alarming thing I've heard recently," Alastor said, his glare strong and steady. He hadn't brought up this particular rumor because he knew that it would hold the most impact on his friend. And, as the former Supreme Mugwump, it would most assuredly guarantee he'd investigate. But Moody had wanted to pique his interest with the mention of the gold, which was something that had even himself stumped.

"I've heard that Muggles have learned how to make flying cars—" he quite relished to alarmed look that flashed across Albus's face at that nugget. "like Weasley's old car from a few years ago. Think there's a connection…?" From the way he'd drawled out the question, it was painfully obvious to Albus just what his opinion really was.

"I'll check up on Harry immediately."

Of that, there was no question.

(Author's Note) Duh-duh-duh! Dumbledore's coming snooping! Not good! The sparks are really fly come next chapter!

Sorry for the wait. I really had wanted to post this chapter a week ago, but obviously that didn't pan out. Kudos to anyone can guess where the first scene was inspired from, which probably isn't too hard. I really loved that scene, hence why it's here.

As you can see, even Harry's 'all-powerful Sorcery' is having trouble raising an island from the North Sea. While it's definitely within the realm of his powers to do so, let's just say that he hasn't discovered the secret to just how he can do that. And before any of you skeptics start yelling, Harry's island raising is a feat he's trying to imitate from Merlin (who'd created Avalon in this story).