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Chapter 18: Slughorn Lectures on Muggle Relations

While Slughorn seems to have gotten by poorly with his meals, he has never failed to groom himself properly. The man its askew, in a three piece suit, a wizarding robe of satin and silk, and a cane befitting a magister resting in his lap.

"A Wizard commands respect," he intones, "as he has been respected beyond time. It was Merlin, not Arthur, who made Camelot great."

I shrug. I ignore him. I let him have his little fancy moments. For me, I'm in a mixed bag of clothes that he was able to procure on our short amount of funds. They were nothing fancy, and most of the money was spent on acquiring a pair of large sunglasses.

"You can't be recognized," he warns. "Not until you make sure that your sister isn't about."

"Why not!" I snap. "Isn't the whole point of this to regain recognition?"

"Padma," he reminds me. Yes. I have a twin. Yes, yes, yes. It's infuriating enough that most of his little collection of memory inducing trinkets were able to be fetched off a garage sale, while the very presence of a Twin Sister negated that possibility for me. No doubt my old family is holding on to most of my things with an odd curiosity of why a lot of Padma's things have her name spelled wrong.

We are at a Chinese place, in muggle town London, where they serve radioactive orange noodles that seem to glow in the dark before plastering to something inedible. Roger and Padma Davies lives around here in a magically concealed apartment that was arranged between the Ministry of Magic and the Muggle Government to house people who are actively participating in the controlled trade between the worlds. As it is, Roger Davies is something of a high ranking executive for a company called Weasley's, which dabbles in various magical devices applicable for the muggle technology. Despite the Ministry of Magic's wishes to have them export mostly benign objects, the ingenuity of the muggle community had mostly subverted their exports to use in military technology. Stink bombs were tagged with nanodrones to allow surveillance to follow terrorists that might escape a hold out. Even things as innocuous as Joke foods that induced diarrhea and vomiting were used to topple foreign culinary industries to selectively diminish foreign lobbying power.

"Recognize these noodles?" Slughorn deftly picks up a strand, sniffing at it. "It's laced with the synthetic powdered unicorn horns. The Weasleys have inadvertently offered a vial of Peace Serum when the terrorism against the Olympics had took form as a palpable threat. The Muggle government retroengineered the substance to create a widely manufactured product that they mix in their mass produced flours. They aren't as strong as a potent Peace Serum, but it works wonders on the populace."

I stare at him, befuddled, "How do you know all this?"

"The Wizarding world has yet to take good care of their trash." he explains simply.

"You look through the Ministry's garbage?" I couldn't imagine him rummaging through the waste baskets of the Ministry.

"I hired myself as a Squib," he explains, "easy enough, and a good way to get my hands on the Wizarding registry. I go about, cleaning the floors, poking in room to room, taking out the trash. You won't believe the stuff I've gathered from the wastebaskets of the clerks."

"Why would the Ministry keep an open trade with the Muggles?" I sigh. "What possible good can the muggles do for the Ministry?"

"Well," Slughorn shrugs. "You of all people should now be aware of how much a backwater society the Wizarding community is. We don't have centralized utilities, our waters are from wells, and our lights are from candles; our infrastructure is based almost entirely on a private level... we travel by floo powder through the fireplace, and anyone can set up a portkey anywhere. And the only other option is to fly on broomsticks or to apparate, which is entirely a form of private transportation. Ever since Voldemort showed us how easily the Wizarding government cold be twisted and abused, I think those higher ups have begun to see that we need to... Modernize." he winces at the last word.

"Regulated Magic," I nod, "Who'd have thought."

"Exactly!" he snorts. "Like it or not, the old ways were the ways in which Magic was entirely privatized. Unlike the need for muggles to become codependent, the Wizarding world saw Great Wizards and Warlocks and Sorceresses who were practically gods in their own right. It's the Slytherin way of thought, mind you, to keep the Magic where Magic is. And unfortunately, it's not a popular opinion. The Gryffindor-centric government sees Magic wide spread and inclusive. Let muggles take part in the benefit of magic."

I shake my head in disbelief. "That' can't be the entirety of it!"

"As I was saying, regulated Magic." he replies. "The government would bring in muggle think tanks to modernize its structure, plan cities, and install pipelines."

"Well, they are doing us all some Good!" I feel a little defensive about the slight against Gryffindor.

Slughorn shakes his head, admonishing. "It's not a question of Good or Evil, Miss Patil. Syltherins are not inherently Evil. Gryffindors are not inherently Good. While in the modern view, the Slytherin ideal may have coincided with those of many Dark Lords, elitist in some respects, it still guarded the Wizard society from the muggles."

"Muggles are the underdogs!" I object in exasperation.

"Really?" He leans forward with a knowing look. "The Legend of Merlin simply gives us a picture of a Grand Master who simply abdicated his power to the muggle King. The tradition of Slytherin House is that he was something of an apostate to the Slytherin beliefs, turning from the elitist seclusionist principles of Salazar Slytherin to the more open muggle embracing view. Both Muggle and Wizard traditions paint him as a hero. In both views, his disappearance is associated with a disappearance, a withdrawal, and exile to the watery depths. Really, my dear, don't you think he was eventually drowned?"

"What?"

"It's a small belief," Slughorn muses, "that Arthur, upon taking the throne, drowns Merlin. Merlin, benign as he was to the muggles, accepts his fate at the hands of his muggle protege."

"That's absurd."

"Is it?" Slughorn snorts, derisively. "Then describe to me the nature of this Nimue. I know not of any beings comparable to a 'Lady of the Lake'. Mermen, perhaps? Those simple creatures would provide the last recluse for the Great Wizard?"

I refuse to believe that. The Gryffindor in me objects violently.

"Tell me, my dear Miss Patil," Slughorn frowns, "if you cannot see the allegory to today. When else did the Wizarding world reach out to the muggles. And how do you think this will progress? Merlin's actions birthed Brittain. The magical sword Excalibur, the Magical Round table that induced good will and chivalry. Where did Merlin go hence? And why did the muggle world eventually crumble to war immediately after his disappearance? Today we see the Ministry of Magic, its Order of Merlin, outreaching to the muggle community once more. And who knows when the muggles will turn against us and bite the hand that feeds it. They will use our Magics to fuel their Wars, and they will seek out and destroy us if they begin to see us as a threat."

We remain silent as our noodles congeal and harden into a bloated mess.

"Merlin was no fool," Slughorn reflects, quietly. "and neither is the Deputy Director of the Order of Merlin, Hermione Granger. She is probably the most gifted Witch in generations, probably even a greater witch than Voldemort could ever be. She spearheads the Wizard community's efforts, and I fear, that someday she will also be the fulcrum of our downfall."

The waitress, eager to have us leave, now, reminds us of her presence as she replaces our water. We've been sitting here a full hour, barely touching our food. I reach out to take a sip. The vile chemical scent of muggle water flushes down my throat.

Perhaps Slughorn is right. Perhaps the Ministry is heading towards an apocalypse of the Wizarding world. But…

"Who's contracted to set the pipelines, Professor?" I whisper. There's something amiss.

"What?" Slughorn looks annoyed. He doesn't see the relevance.

"I mean," my inspiration is fleeting, and I have to nail it down before it dissipates. "We've already ruled out the possibility of a widespread charm. What about potions? What if someone is feeding everyone something like what the muggle government is doing to its populace? What if someone in the Wizarding world is feeding the Wizards a forgetfulness potion?"

Slughorn ponders my suggestion for a moment. "The forgetfulness potion is rather weak, Parvati. There's no way a potion could be targeted to blot out a specific person."

But I can see it in his eyes that my words did shake him up a bit. He is thinking about it. At least, he'll put his mind to it.

"Just try and get some of your things back, first," he suggests, quietly. "I'll be at the apartment, looking over some… stuff."