Author Notes: TW - graphic scenes & Violence
Mundungus was a born entrepreneur. Or at least that is what he thought of himself.
Being expelled at the end of his 4th year, Mundungus believed his fortune lay elsewhere.
It certainly didn't lie in musty old libraries or with holier-than-thou old hags deducting points from him for merely breathing.
No sir it did not. Booted for trying his liberties with an upper-class Slytherin pureblood, Mundungus had never looked back.
Although his rear view might have been impaired with the liberal number of dark hexes the girl's brothers peppered him with, that's a story for another time.
Since that time, Mundungus's luck had been in and outs. He risked his hides in murky swamps and night forests to fetch ingredients for dubious benefactors.
He hid flasks containing experimental potions not cleared by customs in his orifices.
Not all of these gigs paid well. Those that did found their rewards easily spilled in seedy taverns and endless glasses of fire whiskey.
Many that didn't, resulted in him spending several days recovering lost limbs and dignity.
A narcotics venture had seen him traverse all over Romania, Bulgaria, & Russia.
It ended with him lying face down in a puddle.
Twitching and gasping, he tried to control his breathing to stop the pangs of pain he felt.
Just because you were served a cruciatus curse an hour ago, doesn't mean you won't be feeling it aftereffects.
This was one of those months where you just wanted to hit the bottle and forget everything else that existed. Marshaling the last of his ego, he pulled himself together and vanished with a pop.
Several hours later
"I think you have had enough, Dung" The bartender drily remarked.
He was always prodding at him. Who did this git think he was? His father?
Dung snorted and replied, "I-I think I will be the judge of t-that!"
His speech slurring, he pounded his mug on the table for another round.
"Judge whatever the hell you want, Dung. I judge on having myself get paid."
The Matron leaned over menacingly, and a wand's glowing tip found itself at his nose.
"You haven't been paying a lot lately, have you?" The matron said.
The alcohol-fried brain of Mundungus desperately tried to formulate a response.
Neurons firing sluggishly, brain circuits failing to make a connection, all Mundungus could do was sheepishly slur.
"uhhhhhh"
A clear voice called out from behind the rowing two.
"Oi!" A man stepped forward and put a heavy hand on Mundungus's shoulder.
"Leave him alone you old hag! Can't you see a brother down his luck?" He spoke.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a few galleons and threw them toward her.
"Make yourself love and bring two over to the booth by the left for my new friend."
The matron scowled at him but relented and went back to pour.
"Come, friend, join me at the booth. I haven't got anyone to talk to this entire night."
Mundungus happily waddled towards the booth. His mind only registered the promise of more alcohol. As long as he didn't have to pay, he would happily oblige the fool.
On any other night, he would've noticed the man's calloused hand. His broad shoulders and heavy build. Most wizards didn't look like this guy, but he didn't care.
"I didn't quite catch your name" The man started after setting himself.
"M-mmmundun" Mundungus slurred, trying to figure out a response. The man's eye twitched but he was patient.
"Hm, I hear if anyone needs certain goods procured, you're the man to contact?"
The prospect of galleons successfully established a connection in Mundungus's brain, and he happily nodded affirmatively.
The man smiled ear to ear and cupped two heavy mugs of beer.
"Why don't we get out of this damp hole and someplace a bit more discreet? I think we can greatly help each other!"
Now with every increasing sentience, Mundungus followed the man like a dog following his master in the lure for treats.
As they made their way towards the other block, the man suddenly turned and threw the ice-cold beers at Mundungus.
He gasped, and now with rising IQ points felt that something was very wrong.
A woman appeared behind him and Mundungus felt something placed on his neck.
An electric current surged through him and all was dark.
"I don't know where their ego comes from. They have the same vices & go down just as easily" she said.
The man stayed silent and mechanically went to work on the body. Mundungus's hands were cuffed, he was hooded, and carried by the man toward the LZ.
They had precious few seconds before the other mages in the neighborhood saw them. The man lugged Mundungus in a fireman's carry and sprinted.
The woman rolled her eyes at the man and made to follow.
The Black Site
Mundungus Fletcher
The dimly lit room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the faint hum of electrical currents running through the wires that snaked along the walls.
In the center of the room, Mundungus sat strapped to a metal chair, his skin goosebumps covered due to the cold emanating from his prison's walls.
His head spun, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision.
The surge of anxious adrenaline made whatever remained of his earlier alcoholism evaporate.
He nervously wracked his brain to think about the events earlier.
The man from the bar's face was hazy, but Mundungus was pretty sure he had never screwed him over galleons.
Whatever, witch or wizard he pissed off, a few jinxes and curses would've sufficed. None went through all the effort of kidnapping a no-name like him from the streets.
Certainly not to keep him in a facility like this.
He tried to focus his mind on Diagon Alley. If he was lucky, they would have forgotten to put up apparition wards.
His brain instantly flatlined and he could feel blood dripping from his nose. Focusing was now troubling.
The lights in the rooms flickered to life. The room slowly came into view, revealing a heavy metal door that had just been closed with a sharp bang.
Mundungus's heart sank as the reality of his situation sank in. This could be it. His end was nigh.
He tugged at his restraints, trying to physically free himself from the blasted contraption that tied his hands.
It was to no avail. Remembering something, he stretched his finger to reach for his ring.
It had a concealed portkey in its head. His fingers only met each other. Of course, they had taken everything from him and left him naked. Escape was now impossible.
Time to pull out the Fletcher charm.
With a quick breath to steady himself, Mundungus composed his face into a toothy smile, his eyes betraying a hint of apprehension.
"Ah, good evening," he greeted, his voice calm and friendly. "I must say, there was no need for such measures my friend. If you had sought my services, all you had to do was ask."
There was no response from the other side. Taking that as his cue to continue, he spoke,
"Come now, what is the point of this all eh? Can't we all settle this like right gents?"
"I am sure whatever scrap yer got with me I can fix it? So, what went wrong with you and how can old Uncle Muny help yer?
"Potions, tomes, or heck you need creatures. I tell yer there's not a single poacher out there I ain't deal with!"
Mundungus rambled on. Labeling one merit point after another, hoping he would land something that would click with his captors.
Had he been wiser, he would've sensed the irritation rising within the interrogator.
An electric shock surged through his chair and Mundungus's ramblings were cut short with a pained yell.
The interrogator stepped forward into the light and was now visible.
Mundungus looked at him and was confused further. He expected robes and runes. Instead, the man in front of him was dressed most bizarrely.
His face was concealed by a grey cotton mask with two eye holes.
The rest of his body was covered in hardened military khaki fatigues.
On his chest a series of wires connected to some device in his ear.
Once again like many times since yesterday, a bizarre revelation settled within Mundungus.
These were not wizards. They were,
"Muggles!" He spat out with as much venom as he could.
Oh, the boys at the Knockturn would never be able to let him live this down.
Outsmarted by damned muggles of all people. This was a new low. Even for Mundungus's already rock-bottom standards.
He started to vigorously jerk at his restraints. Shame had blinded him to everything else. He had to get out now!
He focused all his thoughts on breaking free. He might not have his wand, but he was still a wizard.
He would blow these fools with accidental magic alone. He felt a rush of arcane energy rising within him.
His brain flatlined once again. His vision saw vivid red & yellow.
This time blood poured out of his eyes, ears, & nose. The well of magic within had vanished entirely.
His ears rang but he still could hear the infernal torturer laughing at his misfortune.
"You fools!" Mundungus jeered through bloodied lips, his voice dripping with condescension.
"Do you even know what the hell you've gotten yourselves into? Abducting a wizard? Oh, you've made a grave mistake, my friends."
He leaned back in the chair, his naked body shivering in the cold.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with."
But before he could continue mocking them, a sudden surge of electricity surged through the chair, causing the wizard's body to convulse involuntarily.
His laughter died on his lips, replaced by a startled gasp. He grimaced, trying to endure the electric shock coursing through his limbs, his muscles tensing with the pain.
As the current subsided, leaving the wizard breathless and wide-eyed, he glared at his interrogator with newfound caution.
It was clear that underestimating these muggles was a mistake he couldn't afford to make.
The interrogator finally spoke, his voice deep and ringing off the walls of the room.
"You may possess great power, wizard, but power alone does not guarantee victory."
He stepped closer to Mundungus.
We have ways to make you cooperate. Ways that transcend your infernal abilities."
"Starting now, you will learn the consequences of underestimating us."
The man moved behind him & spoke once again,
"The nanites in your blood have already taken away your focus. Trying any further spell casting is ill-advised."
"Now, Mundungus, you are going to do exactly what we tell you to do. Failure to comply will result in discomfort. Nod once if you understand."
Mundungus nodded vigorously and electricity tore through him once again. He cried out in pain.
He would receive no mercy here.
Even those wielding cruciatus had the decency to first let him recover. Muggles were worse than dark wizards, he thought grimly.
The interrogator spoke again, "Nod once if you understand."
Mundungus open wept now but carefully nodded once. He could do without the pain.
The interrogator gently patted him on his head and said, "Good boy"
"Now I understand you have talents for smuggling and getting into places where you are not supposed to be?"
Mundungus nodded once. "Can you smuggle into Hogwarts?"
Mundungus paused. His mind works in overdrive to stay ahead of his captor and figure out what's going on.
The current tore through him once again and did not subside for a whole 2 minutes. He violently spasmed and his muscle fibers felt like they were on fire.
Just when he was about to burn, the current relented and he fell back on his chair.
A dark thought invaded his mind about biting his tongue. He pushed it outside of his mind for now.
The interrogate patted his shoulder once again.
"Let me tell you something here Mundungus. There is nobody out there who knows where you are here. This entire facility is protected by quantum fluctuations that render your kind's ability to geolocate you a fool's endeavor. Nobody cares for you out other."
The interrogator slowly put his neck in a choke and applied pressure.
"Now you will tell me all about Hogwarts, The Ministry of Magic, & the Wizengamot. I wanna know where they are, how they work, and how you get in. You will draw me a map of them with the exact location."
Mundungus choked and spat in a bid to breathe but the interrogator did not relent.
"Rest assured Mundungus, if I have to lobotomize you and render you a mindless cripple here, I will!"
The interrogator roughly let go of his hold and Mundungus started taking huge breaths to recover.
"Start talking"
And so, talk Mundungus did. Of all the dark wizards and monsters that plagued the night against witches and wizards, who knew that a lowly high school dropout smuggler would be the one who spilled the final death tolls of the wizarding world.
Emeric, Voldemort, Herpo, & Morgana would roll in their graves if they could see what was coming.
Dressed in a smart, sharply pressed military uniform, Operative Emily stood inside the space shuttle, gazing out of the window in awe.
The expanse of space stretched before her, showcasing the boundless magnitude of human achievement and technological progress.
As the shuttle soared towards the Moon, she marveled at the sight of Earth, a brilliant blue orb hanging in the distance, adorned with swirls of white clouds.
But it was the Moon itself that captured her attention. Its rugged surface, with craters and cliffs that seemed to defy gravity, held a breathtaking allure.
The stars dotted the black canvas of space, twinkling like distant dreams.
Julia couldn't help but feel a deep sense of wonder, contemplating the vastness of the universe and the remarkable journey humanity had undertaken.
The Union will usher in a new era of peace & prosperity the likes of which we have never seen.
However, as the shuttle prepared to land at the Luna Base, Julia's awe began to transform into nervous anticipation.
She was about to meet and present it to the Council of 12, the supreme ruling body of Earth's technocratic union.
It was a daunting prospect, for the Council held immense power and influence over the fate of their world.
No Harvard leadership class could truly prepare her for this moment. It was to be her baptism by fire.
Julia disembarked from the shuttle, she adjusted her uniform, ensuring every crease was perfectly aligned.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and approached the imposing chamber where the Council awaited her arrival.
With a salute, she entered and stood before the twelve council members, their eyes fixed upon her.
Biting down on her nervousness, Julia began her report.
She detailed the operations of the Intelligence Division over the past fourteen months, highlighting their recent successes.
"We have apprehended a plethora of wizards residing on the fringes of society," she explained.
"Additionally, we have managed to capture a few magical creatures, further expanding our knowledge of their world," Julia spoke.
"The slave creatures known as "House Elves" were most eager to share information in exchange for the promise of better treatment once post-war negotiations began."
"As I'm sure this council is aware, House Elves serve as wizarding slaves and have intimate geographical knowledge of their owner's properties. They have been a most valuable asset. Unfortunately, we had to terminate them after we interrogated them."
She could feel the Council's amused confusion at the last bit. She jumped in before the momentum could be shifted from her,
"Most house-elves share a parasitic relationship with their owners. If their owners grew suspicious over their absence the Elves would have no choice but reveal. Compromising our operations."
Murmurs of approval grew from the council over Julia's tactic. She tried to suppress a victorious smirk and continued.
Her voice grew stronger, "Under interrogation, these prisoners have divulged valuable information regarding the political locations of the wizarding world. By triangulating this data with our satellite technology, we can now confirm the locations of Hogwarts, the Ministry, and Wizengamot."
The council members exchanged glances, their expressions reflecting a mix of vindication and joy.
Julia's report revealed a level of insight that would undoubtedly have a profound impact on the balance of power between the two worlds. The victory was in their hands.
As Julia concluded her report, the chamber fell into a contemplative silence.
Suddenly, the doors swung open, revealing a figure that seemed to have stepped out of the pages of ancient Greek mythos.
The Guardian, an eight-foot-tall behemoth of muscle and strength, donned futuristic power armor that gleamed in the chamber's soft lighting.
Julia's cheeks flushed as her gaze met the Guardian's stern, yet undeniably handsome visage. She couldn't help but be captivated by the aura of power that surrounded him.
His presence alone seemed to instill confidence and authority.
The Guardian surveyed the room before speaking, his voice deep and resonant. "Operative Adams has presented a thorough and compelling report," he announced.
"Given the aggressive recon by us and active intrusion into wizard spaces, it is clear that some degree of alarm has been raised within the wizarding society."
His gaze met the council members, and with conviction, he continued, "I advise the Council to authorize immediate military action before the wizards have a chance to learn of our designs"
He left a brief dramatic pause and then spoke again,
The element of surprise will be our greatest advantage."
A brief silence enveloped the chamber, and then, as if possessed by a single mind, the council members spoke in unison, their voices carrying a weight of authority.
"Permission granted, Commander."
With a respectful salute, the Guardian turned and left the chamber, his departure heralding the imminent preparations for battle.