(Re-beta'ed by Dances With Vampires)
Chapter 13: Subterfuge
"What do you mean, you support the action taken by one of your staff?" The Muggle Prime Minister struggled to keep calm. "Have you had a look outside at all? It's chaos out there, and all you have to say is that you will return the items once finished? The country thinks terrorists have stolen their identities! Everything you took is useless now - contaminated evidence, files and cases compromised! Do you have any idea what this has done to the stock market!"
"You have been ignoring my insistence of a cover story for months-"
"I only just came into office! I have a country to run, and frankly there are bigger things going on than a few mysterious murders - and you even agreed when I said that a cover-up would only draw more attention!"
"I'm sorry, Minister, but whilst you have your own people to worry about, I too have mine."
"If you had come to me, I could have arranged something - but instead, you allowed your kind to run forth and. . . .I had to send my wife and children to her mother's place in Cardiff to protect them! Allies of the Commonwealth are pouring in from every side, panicking that something like this could happen to them, and you want me to tell them what, exactly?"
"It was a misunderstanding."
"Being caught in a hotel room with a prostitute and your pants around your ankles might pass as a misunderstanding, but this most certainly does not!" The Muggle Prime Minister shouted, thumping the desk so hard pain jarred up his arm, but he was too furious to care. "Two police officers were killed in the riots last night, not to mention almost a dozen civilians injured. There is millions of pounds worth of damage, and this is only the beginning!"
"If you can't control your people, then perhaps you are not the right person for the job."
"Listen here, wizard, you are going to give me something or someone to hand over to that lynching mob outside the window by tonight. Otherwise, I have no objection to outing your kind to the entire nation, and I'm sure mine is not the only government who has had it up to here with your lot. You caused this, now you can fix it!"
"I'll disregard that as stress," Cornelius said. "However, I also want to speed up the process, and as such I will require some resources from you."
"If you think-" The Muggle Prime Minister stopped short in his advancement when Cornelius pulled his wand on him. "What has gotten into you? Every other meeting, you've been diplomatic and reasonable; are you trying to create a confrontation?"
"I don't have the time or inclination to be reasonable, nor do I need to be diplomatic with the likes of you. Now will you give me what I need willingly, or do I have to force it from you?"
-.-.-
An anguished scream rang through the corridor, from a woman in hospital stirrups. Sweat dripped from her brow. "No-"
"You need to push, on the count of three-"
"No!" she pleaded, tears and sweat mixing so that they were indistinguishable.
The doctor ignored her protests and went on. "One, two, three - push!"
The woman squeezed her mother's hand with all her might, while screaming in agony. "You're doing great, just a little more."
It felt like a lifetime of pain and agony before the sounds of a baby's first cries filled the room. Antoinette reached out for the tightly-wrapped bundle as tears and sobs poured from her.
"You have a very healthy boy." The nurse smiled and handed the bundle to her.
Antoinette's mother smiled. "He has his father's nose, and your eyes," she said, gently stroking her daughter's hair.
"I know it's a little early," the nurse said, "but did you have a name in mind?"
"Corey," Antoinette said quietly, not taking her eyes off of her baby. "After his father."
-.-.-
"Where's my grandbaby? Oh, he looks just like his father; he would have been so proud of you, dear."
Antoinette reluctantly surrendered the child to her mother-in-law.
"Look at you. . .ten fingers and ten toes. . .Oh, Corey, you would have been so happy; if only you knew your daddy. You know if you ever need anything - anything, you know you are always welcome with us; anything you need, you just tell us," Jenny said, trying to ignore the tears slowly building up behind her eyes. "Has he got a name?" she asked, turning back to the happier subject of the child in her arms.
"Corey." Antoinette smiled weakly.
"Oh. . ." Jenny couldn't hold back the tears any longer, sinking into one of the visitor seats and gently cuddling the tiny bundle.
"Is there any news about Troy, Eliza, and Maddie?"
Jenny shook her head. "Nothing. Don't trouble yourself with that; you have yourself and your baby to take care of. Let the police do their jobs. Mind you, with everything going on. . .Never mind, this is your time."
-.-.-
Hermione sat at the breakfast table, barely touching her food and looking anxious as she read a copy of the Daily Times.
"I'm sure your parents are going to be all right, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, gently patting her shoulder.
"It's not them I'm worried about; they're far enough outside of London that they won't be too badly affected," Hermione explained. "This just seems like too much of a coincidence. They can say that it's the IRA or other radicals all they want, but why would they have taken all of that? And even if they needed it for some reason, they wouldn't have nearly enough resources or influence."
Harry and Ron glanced across the table at the cover page.
"I don't get it; what's the point in pictures if they don't move?"
"Ron, not now." Hermione gave him a pleading look. "And this woman who was apparently with all of them - look what's around her neck." She turned the paper to them. "It looks awfully like a Time-Turner."
"That's ridiculous-"
"What would the Ministry want with all that Muggle rubbish anyway?" the twins scoffed.
Maddie helped herself to another crumpet. "Ask Troy, he worked in law enforcement for a bit. . .speak of the devil." She smiled uneasily as Troy walked in.
She was worried about some of her friends. She had little doubt they would find a way to be in the thick of it, and if she had half a chance, she would be too. Judging by the look on her brother's face, his feelings were much the same.
"Have you got your stuff packed?" he asked distantly, washing his hands in the sink.
"We don't leave for a few more days," Maddie simpered.
"And it's a bloody long trip back if you forget something, now get to it," he ordered, watching her hawk-like until she obeyed with her crumpet in hand. "And don't go dragging crumbs. . .oh, what's the use?" He sighed, taking a seat and loading some sausages onto his plate. "What was it you wanted to ask?"
"Hermione has this crazy idea that wizards are responsible for the riots," Ron replied.
"I had a Time-Turner for a year, Ron," Hermione said irritably. "I know one when I see it, and that is most definitely a Time-Turner."
"It's an hourglass. Who says Muggles can't make necklaces that look like hourglasses?"
"Well, how do you explain that she was sighted in three completely different locations at the same time? Frankly I don't believe that terrorist organisations have a prosthetics department like the article is suggesting."
"Maybe she's a triplet!"
"Enough, you two!" Arthur ordered as he came through, looking for some breakfast before heading to work. "They've called everyone in, and it's bedlam out there."
"Mr. Weasley," Hermione cut in, ignoring the callous look Ron gave her, "does this look like a Time-Turner?" She showed him the paper.
"Probably," he replied after a quick glance. "Dolores is a busy woman."
"You know her?" Ron asked in disbelief.
"Undersecretary to the Minister, Dolores Umbridge. You've heard me talk about her," he said distractedly. Ron ignored Hermione's smug look. "Molly, dear, I don't know what time I'll be home by, but I'll let you know as soon as I have an idea." He gave his wife a kiss as he made to dash out, and glanced at the paper again. "Why isn't she moving?"
Hermione held the paper up so he could see the title. "Muggle newspaper."
"Fascinating. . .," he said, already brimming with questions he had been putting off asking. "Why is she in a Muggle paper?"
"Oh, she's the person they're blaming for everything being taken - bodies, evidence, computers-"
"Computers? That's what they called me in to have a look at, but I know nothing about them." He looked incredibly stressed. "I mean, we've only just begun to understand the mechanics of a toaster - fascinating contraption," he complimented, mind already beginning to wander.
Troy put his fork down after listening to the banter, slowly putting the pieces together. "I could help."
"Oh, I'm not sure - from my understanding, computers are incredibly uncooperative and troublesome; how the Muggles. . ." Troy smiled, raising a brow, and Arthur remembered. "Of course. . .oh, but I don't know if they'd let you-"
"No one will notice someone who is getting the job done. This way, I can explain how to work them. I'll even teach you Solitaire if it's on there," he bribed. "And if these are the computers that are missing, you'll be hard-pressed to find someone who knows how to get around them."
Arthur looked uncomfortable. "It could only be as an advisory role. . ."
-.-.-
Troy followed Arthur, keeping his head down as they wove through the Ministry.
"Normally, this isn't what I would do, but apparently I'm the most experienced. . ." Arthur trailed off, and they continued in the direction of his department. "I mean, I still deal with Muggle items, but it's usually only when they get enchanted." He opened the door. "Oh my. . ."
Arthur stepped inside, staring in awe at the room packed full of Muggle computers, screens, keyboards, and even printers. It looked as though every missing piece of I.T. equipment had been deposited here. Troy glanced at the units.
"Arthur! Finally, I'm drowning back here - I need some help, this comp-puter won't do as I command!" a very flustered wizard called out somewhere behind all of the equipment.
"Ernie, I brought some help," Arthur announced happily. "Come and meet Troy - he has some experience with computers. Troy, Ernie is my apprentice."
Pulling Troy to the side, Arthur added in a low voice, "He's still in training; this is his third month here since my previous co-worker was forced into retirement after a nasty incident involving a toilet. Don't get me wrong, he's very dedicated. However. . .he's also little overenthusiastic at times."
"The heads of what seems to be every department have been coming in every ten minutes since I arrived, and I can't even figure out how to get this thing to work," Ernie said, coming out. He was younger than Arthur, dark brown hair only beginning to silver at the temples. Despite his current stress he had a warm face, with laugh and smile lines well-established.
"Why don't you give him a hand? I just need to clock in quickly, I'll only be gone a moment," Arthur assured.
Troy allowed himself to be led off to Ernie's project while Arthur quickly left the room.
"I have tried every spell I can think of, but nothing seems to work. I've tried commanding it, asking it, pleading with it, nothing." He slapped his thighs irritably.
Troy suppressed a laugh. "Okay, first, this is a photocopier, not a computer. Second, it's not plugged in." He picked up the power cord, and glanced around for a power point. "Ahh. . .shit. Um, you guys don't have electricity, do you? None of this stuff will work without it."
"What's electricity?"
"It's. . .power, electrical current. . .ahh. . .lightning! Lightning is electricity," Troy tried to explain.
"Oh, lightning, I can do that-" Ernie exclaimed, pulling out his wand.
"Wait, wha-?" Troy asked, trying to process what Ernie planned to do before he actually did what he thought he was going to do.
"Ignisious!" Ernie cast. Troy barely had time to jump out of the way before the lightning bolt blasted a hole in the machine.
Troy got to his feet shakily. "Not. . .literally. . .," he said clearly, trying to steady his heartbeat. "Just. . .put the wand away before someone gets hurt. . ."
-.-.-
Lucius said nothing as Cornelius went about telling him why he had been called down to the Ministry.
"Dumbledore isn't going to like it, and neither will several members of the school board," he continued.
Lucius finally cut him off. "I am all for having someone trustworthy at that school, but no practical lessons? You can't be serious! I want my son to know how to defend himself should the situation arise."
"Dolores will be giving practical lessons to those students who can be trusted not to abuse the privilege; naturally Draco will be among those. However, there are many students who can't be trusted, and I will not have Dumbledore using the school as a recruiting ground to build a rebel army! I need you to make sure that the rest of the school board doesn't dispute this appointment." Cornelius slammed his fist on the table as a display of authority, hoping to make Lucius flinch. He didn't.
Lucius simply sighed, knowing full well what was going on and who was really pulling the strings. "I'll see to it."
"Good," Cornelius replied, sitting back in his chair as though some great burden had been lifted. "I have another favour to ask you. . ."
Something about the way he said it made Lucius's ears prickle. His uneasiness was hidden by a mask of polite interest, but the Minister knew that this request would be received with the same appreciation as a dirty child dragging mud throughout the house.
"Recently, a pack of werewolves-"
"No."
"It's only women and children-"
"No. I have a young child."
"Come now, Lucius, I'm not asking that they stay in the manor. You have hundreds of acres of forest. And it's only temporary. The wards around your property will keep them from stumbling into Muggle territory, and the wards around the manor will keep them from entering the main grounds."
"No. Put them into Azkaban until you have somewhere permanent."
"They're seeking asylum; they escaped Greyback's pack-"
"Most definitely no."
"They have information that could finally lead to his capture."
"No one has escaped his pack and lived to tell the tale for over a decade. If they are kin to Greyback, save yourself the trouble and execute them as they should be."
"Lucius, if they have information, I'll take that risk. They aren't willing to share it until they have a permanent home, and I don't believe that they would be foolish enough to betray my trust," Cornelius said very seriously. "There's only a dozen of them, only women and children, and it's only for a few days. They will stay in the forest - it's where they are most comfortable."
"The full moon is next week!"
"I swear, they will be gone before that. Aside from Hogwarts, yours is the safest place I can think of, and the last thing I need is for the Daily Prophet to write, 'Werewolves Housed at Hogwarts'. If I had another option, believe me, I would take it."
Lucius took a deep breath. This could not be a coincidence. "Fine. They are not to come within one hundred yards of the forest edge, and I will not be providing them with food, shelter, or clothing - nothing. I will see to it that my groundskeeper marks the border for them, and should they cross it I will be well within my rights to terminate their existence. They will be transported by Portkey directly into the forest."
The Minister snorted. "None of them have wands or any magical training, and like I said, women and children. Don't you think you're over-. . .?" He fell short at the look Lucius gave him. "No, I suppose not."
Lucius got to his feet. "I will deal with the school board. You make sure those animals are off my land before the full moon; I will not have my estate turned into a zoo for unwanted and dangerous creatures."
-.-.-
Dolores Umbridge smiled to herself as she lovingly packed away the items she would be taking with her to Hogwarts. If someone had told her a month ago that this was what she would be now, she would have hexed them senseless. Ambition was an interesting thing; she'd always had it, but it was only recently that she'd learned how to shape it and use it to her full advantage. Macnair had opened her eyes, made her realise she didn't just have to sit around and wait for Fudge's time as Minister to be up, or for another department head to retire before she could have another chance to move up the food chain. With all this nonsense - Dumbledore's outlandish claims that You-Know-Who had returned - Fudge's slow but steady descent into blind paranoia wasn't completely unaided. It was becoming clear he was no longer right for the job, preferring to tiptoe around the Muggle Prime Minister's delicate sensibilities rather than protect their kind. Still, she hadn't expected his reaction to be so extreme as to fire her. Not that she was going to let that get in the way of her plans.
Who would have thought that the Imperius Curse was so useful? Oh, she saved it only as an absolute last resort for the time being. Now with the Minister under her complete control, life was going to run a great deal smoother. She was no longer a glorified secretary - no, now the Magical community would know her as the one who saved them from being exposed, the one who had the initiative and the audacity to do what needed to be done. Now, with the Minister backing her, she could take care of her next obstacle, the one no one was brave enough to stand against head-on.
If she was going to move up, she needed to silence that old fool Dumbledore. He may have been great once, but old age had settled upon him, and exposing the truth about him would turn all of his supporters and sympathisers to favour her. No doubt they would resist, at first. She had years of brainwashing to reverse, and that was only with the current students, let alone those who had grown up and left. It was a tall order, but she could try - nay, had to try. If not for her, then for the sake of the Magical community. It was her responsibility.
"Madame Secretary?" a man asked, knocking on the door. ((Wouldn't it be 'Undersecretary'?))
"What is it?" she demanded, a little tersely from being interrupted from her thoughts.
"Begging your pardon, but the Muggles have arrived."
Dolores put down the ornament she had finished wrapping harder than she intended. "Well, I must say it's about time. I'll be up in a moment." She waited until the man left, and adjusted her hair and robes before leaving her office.
-.-.-
Harry's attention was elsewhere, not really listening to Hermione as she pointed out errors in his Potions holiday assignment. She didn't seem to notice, too busy looking for the next mistake.
Maddie and Ron were laughing over some joke whilst playing chess, completely absorbed in what they were doing.
Ginny was having an argument with the twins about them going through her stuff and leaving pranks all throughout her trunk, which she now had to repack - again.
Sirius was coming downstairs complaining about the commotion just as his mother's portrait began screaming obscenities at them. Smells drifting through the kitchen told him that Molly was sparing nothing in tonight's meal.
Was it too much to hope that they might succeed in catching Peter? After all this, Harry thought, surely it was high time something good happened? To never have to go back to the Dursleys, to listen to stories about his mother and father like they were, not the vicious lies his aunt and uncle spun for him. To have a home where he was loved and welcomed - Sirius was the closest thing to a family he had left.
Even that glimmer of hope couldn't completely dispel his troubles. Everyone was so involved with the here and now, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little bitter at them; they all seemed completely undisturbed by the present danger with Voldemort, or that the Ministry was as useful as a sand sponge. . .but they hadn't been there when Voldemort came back, when Cedric didn't even have a moment to raise his wand in defence. . .
"Harry, why do you bother bringing your work to me if you aren't even going to listen?" Hermione snapped.
"Huh? I was. I mean, I am. . ."
Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and sighed. "I wish you'd talk to us about it."
"What's to talk about? You know it all already." Harry dismissed her words. "Besides, talking isn't going to change anything."
"You know what I mean," she accused. "We're your friends; let us be your friends."
"When it's all I can think about, the last thing I want to do is talk about it. . .thanks for the help, Hermione." He smiled weakly and picked up his homework before taking it upstairs, leaving Hermione sitting cross-legged on the floor, at a loss for what to do next. She glanced over at Ron.
"Let him be," Ron sighed.
"We've done nothing but let him be, Ron," Harry heard Hermione say exasperatedly, and paused for a moment at the stairs to listen.
"He'll talk to us when he's ready."
"Don't you go pretending you haven't tried," Hermione replied, indignant.
"Of course I have. Hell, you don't hear or see him sleeping - if you could call it that."
Harry didn't stick around to hear the rest, rather making his way quickly and quietly back up the stairs.
-.-.-
Riddle Manor was completely silent, save the occasional crack from the fire - the only source of light in the room.
Voldemort sat in a high-backed chair, staring vacantly into the flames as though there was something in them only he could see. Nagini tasted the air silently as he absently stroked her head. He could see all the pieces slowly sliding into place. Weak spots in the Ministry were steadily crippling, losing what little strength they had. . .and the longer they denied his return, the stronger he became. Macnair had done well with the Undersecretary; she seemed completely convinced that this was all for her benefit. No matter, the time would come when he would call for her, and by that time she would be more than willing to join his cause.
"I think it's time to give Macnair a bigger challenge, don't you?" he asked the snake absently.
The giants would make a fine addition to his army. Macnair was accomplished enough to spin a good story that would take him away from the Ministry, and he had no doubt Dumbledore had already sent that half-breed oaf Hagrid to negotiate. Pity, he would have the timed advantage. But every giant loved a good battle, and with him it was completely guaranteed.
The Dementors were also as good as his. The biggest challenge he had at the moment was keeping them from acting too soon. Oh, he would love nothing more than to have his imprisoned followers return home. . .but it was too soon. Such a blatant assault would cause the Ministry to go running to Dumbledore.
He took a deep, satisfying breath. Umbridge would keep Potter and his little friends in check until it was time to get rid of him. . .Eliza was becoming more agreeable, except for that one small request; he would have to take care of things before that came around. . .
Something in the air caught Nagini's attention, and she coiled in preparation of a strike. The door opened.
"You sent for me?" Peter asked, keeping to the shadows as Nagini's body slackened, disheartened. His scent was so. . .appetizing. "I haven't found it yet, My Lord, but it won't be long-"
Voldemort couldn't help but give his companion a small, knowing smile. "The Prophecy can wait. There is a boy I need you to take care of tonight."
Peter stammered, completely taken aback. "M-My Lord, ah. . .I don't know. . .ahh. . .Potter is in hiding. . ."
"Calm yourself, Wormtail, the child I'm referring to is significantly younger."
-.-.-
"I. . .well. . .this is. . .unusual," Arthur muttered, leading Troy back to the main lobby of the Ministry. They finally had the first computer working when the Undersecretary arrived and informed him that he had a week of paid leave available and ordered that he take it immediately. She was surprised to see Troy there, and simply thanked him for his contribution, muttering something about wishing she had been informed earlier and saved them all a great slew of problems, but no matter. "I just checked my leave last pay, and it was only a few days. . .did you see anything about those. . .cop-muters that would change her mind about me working on them?"
Troy didn't voice his concern. After his experience with Ernie and the other Order members, Arthur's understanding of 'Muggle' technology could be considered extensive in comparison.
"Well. . .it's all the missing equipment, but I can't imagine that being some great conclusion to leap to. . .I'll be the first to admit, I'm not the most I.T. savvy, but there were no servers; as far as I'm aware, anything important would be backed up there and require a direct link to access. I mean, you're looking at more than just a power source, you would need physical cabling. . .I could be wrong, but I think they've seriously botched this whole thing and severely underestimated the complexities. Maybe they're doing damage control." He was a little disappointed, wanting more time to search for whatever there was to find.
Arthur sighed. "At least Molly will be happy that we're home in time for dinner. And I'll be able to see you all off."
-.-.-
Antoinette woke from an interrupted sleep. After Corey's murder she was lucky to get a few hours here and there, but now that her son was born she was lucky to get fifteen minutes.
The light from the corridor was enough to see the resting form of her baby in the cot next to her bed. She pondered a moment about picking him up and taking him for a walk down to the nurses' station. But he looked so peaceful. . .
She pressed the buzzer to call for a nurse, not willing to leave him alone for even two minutes. The nurse gave her what she requested, and she was off in the best sleep she had had in weeks.
"Good morning, Mrs. Raveien," the nurse said brightly as she came in to make her early morning rounds.
Antoinette didn't respond, and the nurse went past quietly to check on the baby. His bright, rosy red colour was completely gone, his limbs cold to the touch. The nurse cast a worrying glance at the mother, who still had not stirred. She dashed back to the nurse's station to alert them of a cot death incident.
The nurses took the baby away and contacted Antoinette's mother, asking her to come in immediately.
-.-.-
The Muggle Prime Minister sat in his office alone. He had expected to be kept significantly more apprised of the situation than what was currently happening. Complying with the wizards' demands had seemed like not only the safest but the only option, and now he couldn't help but feel he had made a grave mistake.
Whilst the riots had dissipated for the most part once the people understood that without the servers missing, the only people who had anything to worry about were those already under investigation, they were still very much on edge, fearful of another attack.
He took a deep breath, opening the top drawer of his desk, where the personnel files of those he had sent to "assist" the wizards were kept. The Minister of Magic had assured him that they would be returned unharmed in a few days, and that they would also hand over whatever "evidence" he needed to place blame squarely on the shoulders of the I.R.A.
"This must be what it's like to make a deal with the Devil," he muttered, closing the drawer.
They couldn't keep staying under the wizards' thumbs; whatever was going on on the Magical side of the fence was spilling over into their world, and the Minister of Magic could deny it as much as he liked, but it didn't change the fact that things were seriously wrong there. When he took office, it had been his understanding that they were allies. Now - it seemed - they were allies in name only, or when things were fine. Wizards were causing him more trouble than the nation's enemies.
He looked directly at the portrait across the room.
"I want an update. Now."