AN: All dialogue in these chapters is supposed to be in Italian.
The square in front of the Quirinal Palace was jam-packed with tourists chatting animatedly in almost every language. Cameras bounced against their chests and many ate gelato bought from several nearby vendors. Although the Palace was a very grand sight, very few of the tourists were there to see it. Its magnificence was a sort of added bonus to the real attraction: the Fontana di Trevi.
Two members of the crowd were not there for sight-seeing on this late summer day. A tall, white-haired man dressed in a business suit pushed his way through the crowds. A girl, about sixteen-years old, followed in his wake. She had black hair, olive-toned skin, and dark eyes. She was also dressed very professionally, wearing a black skirt with matching blazer and a simple white blouse. A brilliantly green feather was tucked in her button hole in the place of a flower. Both man and girl held attache cases tightly, wary of pick-pockets.
The two pushed their way to the front of the crowd, which grew denser as it neared the fountain. Tourists complained in their respective languages as they were jostled aside, but something in the manner of the older man made them fall silent and move aside. All of the Muggles here were holding their Muggle coins tightly, a few with only one, most with two, and a surprising number with three.
The girl followed her grandfather around the edge of the fountain. They had wormed their way to the side where the statue of Salubrity offered a snake water from her goblet.
There was a stairway there, hidden to all Muggles and only visible to magic-users who knew how to look for it. It gently arched up, following the base of the grand windows of the Palazza Poli. The man stepped onto the first stair and gave the girl his hand, helping her climb up onto it in her black high heels. The Muggles, of course, couldn't see the two as they walked just over the spot where the pipes gushed out clear water. The girl extended a hand and gently traced it along the fish tail of one of the hippocampi statues. She touched her hand to one of the Triton's thrown back arms and shuddered at the cool feel of the marble.
Her grandfather pulled out his wand, a well-polished length of oak and dragon heart-string, and tapped the edge of the huge shell Oceanus stood on. There was a grating sound as a section of stone pulled away, revealing a trapdoor with a spiral staircase curving down from it.
Descending the steps, the girl looked back just in time to see the trapdoor close again, shutting off the square of blue sky.
The stairs were encased in a column of bright marble blocks, smooth and well put-together. About two stories below there was a doorway and it was to this level they descended.
The door led to a large, circular room built completely of marble from which many hallways branched. The doors of the halls were framed by doric columns about seven feet high. On the other side of the room, exactly opposite of the staircase door were plain black letters that read: "LIVELLO DELLA FOGNA", which means "The Sewer Level."
At the center of the room was a round dais with a large hole in the center. As they watched, the heads of people appeared in this hole, followed by their bodies. Within seconds, half a dozen witches and wizards, wearing everything from Muggle clothes to wizard robes, were elevated into sight. The platform they were standing on grounded to a halt, its coloring and texture so similar to the surrounding dais that it would have been nearly impossible to distinguish where it ended and the dais began.
The witches and wizards stepped off the platform and walked swiftly down the steps. A few of them saw the older man and bowed cordially to him before striding off down the various hallways.
The two visitors stepped up onto the emptied platform. As soon as they did, it began to descend slowly and smoothly.
They passed a level identical to the one above except that the columns besides the doors were ionic this time and the lettering, in silver, said: "LIVELLO DEL CATACOMB I", the first Catacomb Level. A few people were in this one, passing from hallway to hallway. Some appeared to be waiting for the elevator, but when they saw its occupants, they stepped back a little, allowing the lift to continue without them.
They passed Livelle del Catacomb II, III, and IV and - though there was a noticeable increase in the number of people on each level - none of them seemed to want to take the lift when they saw its occupants.
Finally, the elevator slid smoothly into place about eight floors below the city of Rome. This room was larger than any of the previous ones. The dais was not in the center, on the contrary, it was off to the side like some unimportant, undecorative addition no one really wanted to look at. The room soared upwards so that the ceiling was at least three stories above. Corinthian columns framed the windows two and three stories up that ran around the room. People moved along these, busy at their own work.
The entire room was made of white marble and draped with sheer purple and gold fabric. On the first level there were no walls, just corinthian columns at intervals. Beyond these were hundreds of desks and offices. Directly across the room was a dais identical to the one the two visitors climbed off of. That one was empty, indicating that the lift was on one of the upper floors. But in between the twin platforms stood a magnificent statue.
She stood tall and proud, with regal bearing and raiment. The edges of her white marble gown were gilded in gold and silver. The tiara on her head was made of solid gold and rayed out like depictions of Helios's crown. Her face could have had any expression, joy or disapproval or sorrow, but it was not empty. You could not have seen her feet, for three great dragons circled her.
These beasts were large and sinuous, carved entirely of black marble. Their jaws opened in hideous snarls and long spiked tails wounded around their long talons. Each of the dragons faced a different way, to protect their goddess from all sides. And each of the dragons was encrusted with precious stones. Pearls, rubies, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, and many others studded the hides of the beasts, making them glisten in the light. But for all that, they were not held in as high esteem as the woman above them for she radiated power, justice, and authority.
She was Hecate, goddess of magic. Her following had been carried over in the ancient days by long-dead sorcerers and fortune-tellers. Now she presided over this place, the heart of the Italiano Ministero di Magia, the Italian Ministry of Magic.
The groups of people gathered in this great chamber parted for the man and the girl to walk through. Several people bowed respectfully to the man as he passed.
A young man wearing a black business suit and blue tie hurried forward to greet them. He had wavy black hair and worried dark eyes.
"Signor Petrroci, always an honor and a pleasure," the young man said shaking the older man's hand and smiling.
"It is always good to see you, Minister," Leonardo Petrroci smiled. "Allow me to introduce my granddaughter, Isabella Petrroci." The Minister, Basilio de Piero, took Isabella's hand and bowed over it, his eyes sparkling. She smiled back, but winced inside at the introduction. She had become used to using her father's surname in England, but now that she was in Italy she had been ordered to go by her mother's maiden name.
"We are just about to begin," Basilo said. "If you will follow me, sir?" The Minister led them through one of the columns and into a less grand, more office-like space. The carpet here was thick and blue with a golden boarder. People working at desks on either side stood up when Isabella, Signor Petrroci, and the Minister walked by, but Isabella could not tell if they were acknowledging her grandfather or Basilio.
Signor de Piero went to a heavy oak door, opened it, and waved them inside. The walls were painted a muted sage green and several bronze busts lined the room. Isabella recognized Socrates, Cato, Ambrose, and Machiavelli. An oval-shaped conference table dominated this room. Surprisingly, Muggle-style swivel chairs had been pulled up to this. Most of these chairs were already full.
There was a tall, blonde witch with crimson robes who nodded to the Minister; a small, nervous-looking man who jumped at the sound of the door closing; a dark man wearing Muggle clothing who smiled encouragingly, if a little confusedly, at Isabella; a woman with long brown-hair pulled into a ponytail who was looking into her cup of coffee as though reading its depths; and half a dozen others.
The Minister sat on the long end of the table, right in the middle. Although he could not see everyone from this point, he had more room than if he had placed himself at one of the narrower ends of the table. Leonardo Petrroci sat at one of these tips of the table. Isabella suspected he did this so that he could see everyone in the room.
Isabella pulled an extra swivel chair from its place by the wall and sat behind her grandfather, a little off to his left.
"Right, is everyone settled?" Basilio asked. "Because we're going to be here a while." When everyone nodded, the Minister waved his wand at the door. A sheet of green light spread outward from the door over all the walls, floor, and ceiling. It hung for a second, then faded.
"The first order of business is Santo Antonio," the Minister announced. "They are worried about an attack."
"Every protection possible has been placed around the hospital," the blonde witch said, sounding exasperated. Isabella had the feeling this conversation had been brought up several times.
"They are concerned an attack might be started outside their magical protections, break through the barriers, and enter the hospital," Basilio explained. "They are concerned about Fiendfyre." Everyone went silent.
"Any ideas?" the Minister prompted. "Even false reassurance that the barriers are strong enough to hold off Fiendfyre, which we know they aren't?" Isabella was surprised and pleased by the young man's blunt truthfulness. Skipping around the facts and ignoring the truth wasn't going to help the patients at the hospital if they were burned.
"Is there no evacuation plan?" the blonde woman asked.
"There is, but there's no way the Healers could get everyone out in time," Basilio sighed. "Very well, if there are no ideas, I ask that you bring this problem up at your next department meeting and brainstorm then. I'm afraid we have other things to discuss. For example, the Vatican."
Everyone turned to look at the dark man who was wearing a muggle coat and tie. "Still no progress there, I'm afraid," he shrugged. "I have a brief overview of all previous interactions with the Vatican, though. Ahem: June 30, representative from the Muggle Liaison Office - that's me - first approached the Pontifical Commission for Vatican City State. The Swiss guard was summoned and the representative - still me, mind you -was forcibly ejected. July 1 through July 25, the same representative continued to make periodic appearances in the private rooms of various members of the P.C.f.V.C.S. On the afternoon of July 25, the representative managed to have a conversation lasting from 4:32 pm to 4:40 pm in which he explained the dangers posed by the rebel group. The Swiss guard was then called, the representative physically thrown out for the twenty-sixth time.
"Acting upon the advice of the Minister, the representative first approached the Pope, Bishop of Rome, Vicar of Jesus Christ, Successor of the Prince of the Apostles, Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church, Primate of Italy, Archbishop and Metropolitan of the Roman Province, Sovereign of the Sate of Vatican City, Servant of the Servants of God. The Swiss guard was called, the representative, being thoroughly tired of getting thrown out on his ear, Disapparated.
"On the next day at precisely 2:46 pm, the representative appeared in the Pope's chambers. He was admitted and received cordially enough. By 2:49 pm the Swiss guard was at the door. The next time the representative presented himself to the B.o.R., V.o.J.C., S.o.t.P.o.t.A., etc., he was allowed to sit in one of the chairs in the Pope's private room. The following passage was then read allowed to him:
"Magic is the art of performing actions beyond the power of man with the aid of powers other than the Divine. Any attempt at it is a grevious sin against the virtue of religion, because all magical performances are based on the expectation of interference by demons or lost souls."
"To summarize, the representative visited the Vatican a total of twenty-nine times. He was thrown out a total of twenty-six times. He was excommunicated a total of three times. The representative wonders if those excommunications count, or have cancelled each other out."
Although delivered in a highly humorous manner, no one around the conference table was laughing.
"I supposed that's it then," Basilio said, rubbing a hand across his weary face. "There's no choice. We're going to have to protect them without their consent." There was a somber pause as everyone considered this.
"Do we have any moral or legal rights in this matter?" the nervous-looking wizard asked. "I mean, really, I know we feel we must, but are the revoltoso going to actually attack Muggle buildings?"
"We can't take the chance they won't," Basilio said. "Despite the fact that the people living within Vatican City have refused our help, there is the fact of the matter that we have an obligation to protect those we can."
"Not to mention," a squeaky little voice piped up. It was a dwarf lady, who was kneeling on her chair to see over the table. "That we have all pledged to protect Rome and, though the Vatican claims no political attachment to Rome, we must remember that the tourism trade will suffer if we allow the Vatican and the priceless works of art contained therein to be trampled by a gaggle of geese gone gaga."
Isabella smiled to herself, thinking of how Fred and George would have loved that tongue-twister. Her silent amusement was hidden from everyone else in the room because her head was bent over her clipboard. She was scratching away with her quill, carefully drawing out a map of the area surrounding Santo Antonio. She drew a circle with the hospital in the middle. As the witches and wizards at the table continued to make remarks and plans on how to set magical protection about the Vatican, Isabella drew a chart.
She began to make calculations, using complicated swirls and formulas she had learned in Arithmancy class. Coming up with a series of numbers, she began to fill in the chart. No sooner had she scribble the last digit in the chart than her grandfather spoke up with quiet authority. Everyone immediately fell silent, even Isabella looked up from her doodling.
"This is all very good and I think you are on the right tract. But if you would turn your attention to my granddaughter, I think she may have something to share about the Santo Antonio situation." Everyone turned to stare at her, some with looks of incredulity, others with patronizing smiles, and still others who looked annoyed. The Minister was not one of these, however, he sat back and looked interested.
"Well, I was just calculating," Isabella addressed herself to Basilio, feeling too nervous to look at anyone else in the room. "And I think there is a perfectly feasible way to protect the hospital. You see, we can take advantage of the fact that Fiendfyre spreads quickly by placing trigger spells at various places around the hospital. Here, here, and here, for example," she pointed to the spots on her map that formed a loosed circle outside the one she had first drawn.
"When the Fyre hits these, they will trigger a reaction bringing water up from the aqueducts of the Tiber, slamming into the Fyre and extinguishing it," she finished.
"You think it is possible that enough water could be summoned to put out a full blown explosion of Fiendfyre?" Basilio asked, raising an eyebrow.
"If you hit it with a wall of water, yes," she said nervously. They were all going to start laughing at her now, she just knew it.
"I think it's a wonderful plan," the Minister announced. "However, I would suggest pulling the water from a different source. Say, the Tiber or even as far away as Ostia. If the spells are powerful enough, we should be able to draw water from as far away as we wish. But how will the trigger spells work?"
"All they have to do is activate Summoning Charms," Isabella explained. It was too childish, someone surely would find a major flaw in her plan...
"Brilliant!" the blonde witch exclaimed. "Perfect. Simple, but effective." They all began to chatter excitedly about this new plan, already debating whether it was better to use the river water or the sea.
"I think it is a good plan," Leonardo Petrroci announced. Yet again, the room lapsed into respectful silence. "However, I would urge Isabella to go over your calculations over with Valentino Petrroci, possibly making adjustments to see the wait time for water from the Tiber and Ostia.
With that topic discussed and out of the way, Basilio steered the conversation toward the catacombs, from which the upper levels of the Ministry could be accessed. Naturally, there was a barrier all around the underground building to protect it, but he wasn't satisfied.
"I think we should put Caterwauling Charms in the entry points, I really do," he said. "And then warn our people not to use the catacombs any longer."
Just then, there was a slight rapping on the door. Basilio looked at the door sharply, then relaxed. Waving his wand, the green light reappeared. A rip opened in front of the door and shaped itself into a rectangle exactly the size of the door. A pretty witch opened the door. She was holding a sheet of paper and walked around the silent room to where the Minister sat. Giving him the message, she turned and left. The green wall closed the gap behind her. The Minister read the message, then grimly set it face down on the table.
"The British Ministry of Magic has fallen," he announced. "Rufus Scrimgeour is dead."