Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not want new continents, but new JK Rowling…or vice versa.

A/N: I probably should have asked this in the last chapter: who should be the new Headmaster of Hogwarts? Snape? Barty Crouch Jr? Someone else?

Also, I've been watching play-throughs of Hogwarts Mystery, and it turns out that Ismelda Murk had a Gryffindor older sister, and her story doesn't seem all that compatible with a Slytherin younger sister. But…just ignore that.

Chapter 24: Magic is Might

TABOO IN BRITAIN! DARK LORD OF LONDON BANS OWN NAME, KILLS THOSE WHO SPEAK IT—The New York Ghost

SEIGNEUR V. ENACTS TABOO CURSE TO PUNISH USE OF HIS NAME, CONFIRMED LOCALIZED TO BRITISH ISLES—Le Monde Magique (translated)

Out of respect for our cousins across the Pond, we will render the name of the "Dark Lord of London" as Lord V. in future editions.—The North Star (Toronto)

WARNING: YOU-KNOW-WHO'S NAME IS MAGICALLY TRACKED—The Quibbler (leaflet drop)

Corona Australis refuses to bow to the usurper Tom Riddle's brutal attempt to suppress free speech.—Corona Australis (2 July 1996)

EXCLUSIVE: POLYNESIAN ELDERS CONDEMN TABOO CURSE USED IN BRITAIN—Corona Australis (4 July 1996)

GREYBACK ATTACKS DARMSTADT! 16 VICTIMS CONFIRMED!—Wunderbaren Spiegel (translated)

SCANDINAVIAN MINISTRY OPENS RELATIONS WITH DARK LORD OF LONDON—Nordiska Nyheter (translated)

Reports from Great Britain indicate that La Pantera, the Dark Lady of Veracruz has remained in London as Lord Voldemort's Ritual-Mistress.—El Universo (translated)

NEW LEADERSHIP FORMALLY INSTALLED AT MINISTRY OF MAGIC—The Daily Prophet

The Times of London, 1 July 1996

A CARLISLE HORROR! WAR VETERAN VICTIM OF ANOTHER RITUAL MURDER!

Residents of Carlise awoke to a grisly sight this morning with the public murder of a local war hero. The act appears to have been carried out in ritual fashion identical to that of the murder of John Hughes in Crawley on 27 December; the victim's head was removed and mounted to a light post in a major traffic circle while the mutilated body was dumped in the street. Upon discovery, the victim was identified as Lt. Col. Nathaniel Lewis-Martin, 76, a Carlisle native, World War II veteran, and winner of the Victoria Cross.

Police say that they have not identified any potential motive, nor any connection between the two victims and suggest that this may be a case of a copycat killing. After the Crawley murder, several scholars claimed the mutilation of the victim's body resembled that of ancient Aztec sacrificial rituals, but again, no link was ever proved…

The Times of London 2 July 1996

QUEEN ATTACKED IN BOMBING AT BUCKINGHAM! FIVE DEAD!

The Queen narrowly escaped an attack at Buckingham Palace by presumed terrorists yesterday afternoon. Shortly after one o'clock, three masked and armed men appeared at the gates of Buckingham. Despite the summer tourist presence, witnesses were unable to describe how the attackers arrived, with some suggesting they blended in with the crowd and put on cloaks when they reached the gates.

Witnesses agree that the attackers wore black cloaks or robes and face-concealing masks, suggesting a possible connection with the anarchist protests seen in Germany during the 1980s, although the anarchists usually attacked in greater numbers. The attackers did not speak or make any discernable political statements.

Immediately upon arriving, the terrorists got into a gun battle with the Queen's Guard. Based on eyewitness accounts, they appeared to be wearing body armour and may have been carrying incendiary devices. One of the terrorists apparently threw a bomb, as an explosion occurred inside the gate, and they escaped in the ensuing chaos.

Three members of the Queen's Guard and two civilians were killed in the attack, and at least fifteen people were wounded. No member of the Royal Family was harmed, but Sir Maxwell Barnett, a long-time adviser to the Royal Family who was visiting the Palace, was reported to be seriously injured. His condition is unknown…

"The Queen was being kept abreast of the situation. Presumably either Her Majesty or Mr. Barnett said Voldemort's name, and the Death Eaters attacked without thinking about where the alert was coming from," Remus explained.

"This isn't good," Hermione said. "An open attack on a high-profile muggle target—"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," he said. "Even being controlled by Voldemort, the puppet Ministry cleaned it up pretty well. The Queen will know about the Taboo by now, and even if she's not perfect, Voldemort will probably order the Death Eaters not to respond to alerts from muggle government buildings."

"What is a Taboo Curse, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Something that's not well-documented in the West, I'm afraid," said Remus. "From what we can gather, it sends an alert when Voldemort's name is spoken, and it can probably bash through most wards."

"It's nuts, is what it is," Sirius piped up. "It's a Polynesian ritual adapted by a Mexican witch to ban a French name from the English language. That's just not fair."

"Should we still be saying his name here?" Hermione said worriedly.

"Dumbledore thinks we should, and I agree," Remus assured her. "More people are willing to say it in France, and if enough people say it, it'll be useless to the Death Eaters."

"Anyway, that's not the worst of it," Sirius chimed in again.

"It's not?" Harry demanded. "How is it worse?"

"It's Voldemort. He's declared himself Chief Warlock."

"WHAT?!"

"He's appearing in public," Sirius said.

"He can't do that!" Hermione yelled.

"Why not? He's won in his mind. There's no reason to hide."

Harry frowned: "I guess not, but I would've thought he'd want to be the power behind the throne."

"Well, Chief Warlock isn't a full time job," Sirius said. "He's certainly not busying himself with the day-to-day of the Ministry. Actually, he probably did it mostly as an insult to Dumbledore—well, not just that."

"It's a political move," Remus said darkly. "If Voldemort declares himself the Dark Lord of London, he's basically declaring a coup. But if he declares himself Chief Warlock—or better yet, gets the Wizengamot to vote him Chief Warlock, it gives him some semblance of legitimacy. International recognition. Worst case, it could give him diplomatic immunity to visit the ICW Headquarters."

Harry and Hermione were appalled. "You mean he could just travel the world openly, and no one could stop him?"

"Not to France. They still recognise Fudge. But to his allies? And to neutral countries that haven't taken a side? I think he could. Which means you need to be even more careful, Harry."

Gilderoy Lockhart thundered from the Atrium of the Ministry, the hastily-erected statue of Magic Is Might looming behind him. "—Under the leadership of our new Chief Warlock and Minister Rookwood, we will build a stronger magical Britain—one that will be free from impurity and protected from the corrupting influence of the muggle world and those who would embrace it."

This had been more of a learning experience than he'd expected. He could wordsmith and pose for the camera with the best of them, but he hadn't tried his hand at speechwriting before. Still, after he'd heard the new philosophy explained and shown a couple of samples to the Dark Lord, he'd approved.

"The mudbloods forsake their gifts and try to infect us with their muggle ways—their technology and their religions, ignoring the superior ways of magic. They dirty themselves with the muggle world and then come to marry our daughters and steal the magic of the ancient families, sometimes even bringing their muggle families to do the same. They risk exposure to the muggles' teeming millions, not as masters or even as equals, but as servants, submitting to their rule!

"Today, we say no more! The mudblood menace stops here! Our Chief Warlock, the Dark Lord of London, declares that only those who know the magical world and who understand and value its power are worthy to learn magic, and for those who would cast it away, we will cast them from our presence. This is the centrepiece of his regime, from the upcoming educational reforms to the new design of this very Atrium, we declare loud and clear that Magic is Might!"

"Magic is Might!" the crowd roared, or at least the Death Eaters planted in it did. It was still hard to tell how many people approved of this new regime, how many were playing along out of fear, and how many just didn't care as long as they weren't affected, but the Dark Lord's power still appeared to be on the rise.

The press conference broke up soon after that, and Gilderoy joined a young witch with long, black hair who was waiting for him at the side of the Atrium. "Well, how was that?" he asked Luisa Murk.

"Hmm, it sounded pretty good," she said as she began walking with him. "I wasn't expecting you to sound so convincing."

"Well…it's true, isn't it?" he said cagily, but Luisa rolled her eyes at him. She knew better than anyone that he wasn't doing this job because he believed it in—not like her. "Fine, I say what I'm told to say," he said. "But it's like learning a foreign language. After the first one, the next one is easier."

"Oh, I think your books were in your native language, Gilderoy," she said. He didn't dignify that with a response. "Say, wasn't your father a muggle?" she teased him.

Gilderoy flinched, but covered it over quickly. He thanked Merlin they were out of earshot of the crowds. "Pfft. He was an idiot who never appreciated my brilliance," he said. "Luckily, my mother learnt the error of her ways and raised me right. And that much is the truth."

Luisa giggled, and he struggled not to flinch again. He should have enjoyed that sound, but she always sounded a bit sinister when she giggled—like she was plotting something. Sometimes, that could be good, but most of the time, it kept him on his toes. He normally preferred his witches a bit more submissive than Luisa Murk. True, when Barty Crouch had paired them up together, it had worked out pretty well, and being able to beat her in a duel had certainly impressed her, but that still didn't particularly leave him in control. And what had most worried him was that Luisa seemed like the possessive type. Gilderoy liked to play the field, and if Luisa expected him to stay with her, that would put a crimp in his plans.

But it turned out that when Luisa liked to be in control, that included of other witches, and that opened up some possibilities. Especially when the two of them had got their hands on that lovely Merula Snyde…He smiled to himself, remembering. That had been a fun night, and Snyde's parents had been too happy to have her brought back into the fold to care (not that they knew the full story).

"Having fun?" she teased, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He was on familiar ground, now. He flashed his award-winning smile at her and took her arm: "You certainly make life interesting, Luisa."

She giggled again. "Well, it's about to get more interesting. Death Eater meeting in forty-five minutes. Do you have your papers?"

"They're just up in my office. Won't take a minute," he said.

Gilderoy hurried to his office. As "Press Secretary" to the Minister, he was up on Level One, which was a pretty good gig in his opinion, but it did come with actual work. He'd already organised everything he might need for the meeting before the press conference—he hoped. There was always a chance the Dark Lord would ask him something he didn't know, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

A quick Floo trip and a walk through the elaborate galleries at Hogwarts, and he came to the Chamber of Secrets with Luisa still on his arm. Luisa's older sister, Ismelda, smirked and winked at the pair of him, which made Gilderoy more uncomfortable than Luisa ever did. He had considered getting closer to Ismelda, but that woman was more of an indiscriminate psychopath, like Bellatrix Lestrange. Luisa was more refined in her tastes.

Luisa took her place next to her sister while Gilderoy walked forward. When he reached his own position, he bowed to the throne and turned off to sit down.

"An excellent speech, Lockhart," the Dark Lord said when they were assembled. "With my installation as Chief Warlock, the rule of the Death Eaters is officially established. I have already dispatched Macnair to the upcoming ICW meeting, at which they will debate the 'situation' in magical Britain." Some of the Death Eaters laughed. A couple of them sneered.

"Unfortunately, our position globally remains precarious despite some close allies. At this stage, Macnair can do little besides hold up debate. The ICW must see a functioning Ministry to cement our legitimacy. This means that we must keep our more…decisive actions quiet for the time being. Mulciber, actions against our enemies must appear as normal law enforcement operations. And I will not forbid muggle hunting, but the Statute of Secrecy must be maintained—as it should be. Gellert Grindelwald taught us that the way to control the muggles is not open assault, but controlling the information they hear."

Yes, Gilderoy thought, the Dark Lord was far savvier than the mad killer his enemies made him out to be. With his own mind, honed to handle the press so deftly, he could recognise someone who was skilled at controlling the narrative.

There were a few more administrative items before the Dark Lord came to Gilderoy's own part of the meeting. "Lady Pantera's Taboo Curse has already been very effective in enforcing proper respect for the name of Lord Voldemort—" A low-pitched chime sounded when the Dark Lord spoke own name—the same one that had heralded the evacuation of Hogwarts, or so he was told. Gilderoy wasn't sure the Dark Lord should keep it. Personally, he thought it would get obnoxious. "—despite some complications in the implementation." He looked pointedly at the Death Eaters who had charged into Buckingham Palace without looking where they were going.

"However, now that I have reached onto the world stage, I must be mindful of how I am received abroad as well as at home. The name of Lord Voldemort—" Dong! "—should be feared everywhere. In that respect, the Taboo Curse is an interesting experiment. Lockhart, tell me, how is the international press reacting to this move?"

Gilderoy stood and produced his dossier, flipping to the executive summary. "My Lord, the Taboo on your name has indeed caused a stir. Most newspapers aren't used to that particular kind of censorship. Based on the immediate headlines, most of the European papers are calling you 'the Dark Lord of London' as you hoped, with the notable exception of Le Monde Magique's domestic edition—probably because you've chosen a French name. The New York Ghost is also going with 'the Dark Lord of London.' Most of the other American papers are compromising by calling you 'Lord V.' or a translation. El Universo and the Sierra Nevada Spyglass are still using your full name. The…" He hesitated and cleared his throat. "Corona Australis is calling you by your birth name." Several of the Death Eaters protested their outrage. "They say they, quote, 'refuse to bow to your brutal attempt to suppress free speech.' Their Polynesian allies aren't happy about the whole thing. Considering that, it's not surprising," he tried to defend himself. "…Er, I don't have much on Asia or Africa, but I believe in China, they've given you a name that translates to 'Leader of the Death Eaters.'"

The Dark Lord looked patiently intrigued. He didn't react in anger, which was…probably good, and after listening to the report, he spoke calmly. "Interesting. Rookwood, what would you say are the prospects for sending a mission to this Corona Australis to teach them proper respect?"

Rookwood—Minister Rookwood stood to face him with an uncomfortable expression. "Not so good, Master," he said. "There was a reason we did not expend resources to go after deserters in Australia in the last war. Grayson offered them asylum, and the current administration has continued that policy."

"But Grayson is currently here in Europe," the Dark Lord observed. "He cannot defend them."

"We also don't have many allies outside Europe to get Death Eaters to them, my Lord. We might be able to go through Siam or Vietnam; they don't like muggles much, but if they stop our people, it will make it harder in the future."

"Master, Imperiused agents might work better for something like this," Mulciber suggested.

"Yes, they can be quite useful," the Dark Lord agreed, "though I suspect still more difficult than most operations."

Suddenly, one of the newest Death Eaters spoke—Miles Bletchley, Gilderoy recalled—just graduated. "Master," she said, "We could Imperius some mudbloods to do it."

Everyone in the court turned to her. Imperiusing mudbloods was common enough, but people were usually more delicate about suggesting it.

"During the battle—Sir—everyone was talking about mudbloods needing to get out of the country. Maybe they'll be less suspicious travelling?"

"Yes, to France," Lucius Malfoy said derisively.

Several other Death Eaters started to take Malfoy's side, but Mulciber cut in. "Wait. Hold on." He pointed at Bletchley and then glanced back at the Dark Lord. "That could work. Master, at the Ministry, Runcorn says he's been keeping tabs on mudbloods, and some of them are moving to Australia even after getting out of Britain. We could send a couple of them under Imperius, and no one would blink. We'd have to get an agent into France to do it, but that'll be a lot easier than going straight to Australia."

The Dark Lord nodded slowly in understanding. "Yes, it would. And if the Imperiused mudbloods were to offer an interview to this paper, they would gain access immediately. Excellent idea, Mulciber. I will leave that in your competent hands. Contact our Russian friend if you need additional guidance. And Bletchley—" He nodded to her. "—good thinking."

The delegates of the International Confederation of Wizards sat in a crowded, amphitheatre-like chamber in their castle over the Reichenbach Falls. They weren't happy about being called in for an emergency session, and if that weren't enough, the current crisis threatened to start a riot as two delegates claiming to be from the British Ministry of Magic arrived at the same time.

The new delegate didn't look much like an ambassador—an older man, black-robed, with limp, brown hair parted down the middle. He had hollow cheeks, looked like he couldn't be bothered to shave properly, and wore a permanent scowl. And when he stomped into the chamber, the British delegate, David Monroe, immediately stood to call for him to be thrown out, but the intruder didn't give him time to speak.

"Supreme Mugwump," he bellowed. "I am Walden Macnair, Ambassador-at-Large representing Augustus Rookwood, the British Minister for Magic, and I petition to take my place as delegate."

"Supreme Mugwump, this is outrageous!" Monroe shouted back. "This man is a member of the Death Eaters, a terrorist group that has staged an illegal coup against the British Ministry. He has no right to enter these halls!"

"I must concur with Ambassador Monroe," Dumbledore agreed, standing behind Monroe, even though he wasn't technically in order to speak. "The British Ministry under Minister Fudge has maintained continuity of government in the present crisis."

"But the Ministry of Magic in London is petitioning the ICW for recognition over these pretenders who are now based entirely in France," Macnair said.

"Taking over the building does not make you rulers, Macnair," Monroe started.

Normally, the perpetrators wouldn't have a leg to stand on. They all had to know it. But Macnair wasn't swayed: "Supreme Mugwump, we petition on the basis of the functional operation of the ICW. The Ministry in London is the only entity capable of fulfilling the ICW mandate of maintaining the Statute of Secrecy throughout the British Isles."

"The Ministry of Lord Voldemort, you mean!" Monroe cut in. "You're not even hiding it now."

"If you like, the Ministry of Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord of London," Macnair replied. "He is doing the Ministry's work of upholding the Statute even now—or does the esteemed former Supreme Mugwump think we have let it lapse?"

"I don't think Lord Voldemort cares about the muggles or the Statute of Secrecy except in how others perceive him," Dumbledore shot back.

Macnair laughed. "Oh? How uncharitable of you, Dumbledore! The Dark Lord lived through the horrors of Grindelwald's War the same as you, and many of the delegates assembled here today. He has just as much interest in upholding the Statute as all of us. Perhaps some of you will disagree with our methods, but we believe they are more reliable."

At that moment, the French delegate also stood in solidarity with Monroe. "Do we really need to listen to zis petition?" he said. "Zis pretender gives no convincing reason why we should listen to a man who calls himself 'Dark Lord'—"

This, however, triggered a flurry of shouting from several quarters, especially among the African delegates. It was at that point that the Supreme Mugwump intervened. Babajide Akingbade cracked his wand for silence. "Order!" he roared. "I will have order! Let the record show that I concur with the delegate from New Songhai and her allies. We thought that this colonial attitude had been relegated to the muggle world. To this day, the peoples of West Africa still revere Mansa Musa Amadu, the Dark Lord of Timbuktu, as our liberator from both Grindelwald, and from certain imperialist interests from the European Ministries."

Edward Grayson, still Ambassador-at-Large for Australia, tried to take back control of the debate: "Let's not reopen old wounds, here. There are far more pressing reasons why we should ignore this request. We've already heard a petition to declare the regime change in Britain an illegal coup—"

"Then that's the question, isn't it? Which 'British Ministry' should we recognise?"

"Why are we worrying about this? It's a domestic issue."

"Not to France! And not to Germany either if zey were free to say it."

"Germany asks the distinguished delegate from France not to put vords in our mouths. Our neutrality in the present conflict is on record." The response was perfunctory, but it didn't really matter. The whole situation was falling apart. The ICW had handled wars before, recently, even, but this was different. Kinani Ngeze had never tried to seat his own delegates. He hadn't challenged the Ministries he conquered for their international representation. This was an entirely different sort of crisis, and an entity that could credibly claim to be the one maintaining the Statute of Secrecy had a big advantage. Not to mention the French delegate's blunder had cost some support.

And Macnair's arrival was far from the only issue before the ICW today. Long before they got close to a decision on him, the debate was sidetracked.

"Shouldn't our first order of business be Durmstrang?" said the Luxembourger delegate. "Durmstrang is an international institution, and there are several hundred children trapped there by a regime with highly questionable motives—"

"The Nordic Union categorically denies—"

"—who have already opened relations with the new regime in London—"

Luxembourg did have some allies, there: "I do have to say, the incursion of a magical war fleet from Durmstrang into British territorial waters is a serious violation of sovereignty regardless, which should be investigated."

The Nordic delegate wasn't having it: "As the delegate from Holland said, Durmstrang is an international institution. The actions they took were not at the behest of the Nordic Union, and it is unclear who is responsible."

"Well, that might be even more serious. If a rebel group has taken control of Durmstrang, that is a matter for the ICW to address directly."

"Even if it is, we can't exactly send an expeditionary force to handle a hostage situation, and let's not kid ourselves; that's what this is."

"I repeat, the Nordic Union categorically denies any foul play regarding the operation of Durmstrang."

"What the Nordic Union says," Dumbledore interrupted, his commanding presence quieting the crowd for a moment, "matters very little, I am afraid, even setting aside the Union's inconsistent remarks. The new Headmaster of Durmstrang is Antonin Dolohov, an admitted Death Eater and servant of Lord Voldemort. The Nordic Ministry is almost universally staffed by Durmstrang graduates, who were taught under a curriculum that was exclusionary of muggle-borns—"

Macnair interrupted him: "Supreme Mugwump, I suggest that your predecessor is out of order, as he is not the delegate for the United Kingdom under any claim. And Durmstrang's curriculum is an internal matter to be determined by the countries in which it is accredited, and it is none of his business."

Dumbledore looked around the chamber, meeting the eyes of Monroe and then Grayson. Seeing an acknowledgement from both of them, he muttered an "Excuse me," and sat down before Akingbade could censure him.

"Chief Warlock Dumbledore is right," Monroe insisted. "In 1981, Antonin Dolohov was imprisoned for life in Azkaban Prison for use of the Killing Curse. He confessed to his crimes and to being a follower of Lord Voldemort. He's not fit to run a school regardless."

"Shouldn't we get a statement from the delegate from Germany? Germany's de facto in charge of Durmstrang's accreditation."

The German delegate rose to his feet with a weary look on his face and spoke in the same perfunctory tone, "The German Ministry is not revisiting Durmstrang's accreditation at this time."

"Well, of course he's going to say that. At this point, maybe we should declare Germany to be subject to an illegal coup—"

The wizard was cut off a flurry of shouting, largely protesting the suggestion of sanctioning a declared neutral country. It was even harder to get control back this time. "Clearly, if anything's going to be done about Durmstrang, it's not going to be in public," Grayson finally said.

"Yes," Akingbade agreed. "The original question was which of the Ministries claiming jurisdiction over the British Isles should be recognised by this body."

Monroe took a chance, then: "Actually, Supreme Mugwump, we have another question at issue. Since you're here, Mr. Macnair, perhaps you can tell us why your alleged regime is in violation of the International Convention on Wand Use of 1692 by denying the right carry a wand to muggle-borns?"

"Australia concurs," Grayson said quickly. "Legitimate or not, this is a serious violation. Personally, I have already begun drafting a motion for sanctions against the Ministry of Magic in London."

The debate was just starting to fire up again when Macnair bellowed, "Supreme Mugwump, Britain protests this slander! Do you think that the Dark Lord of London would be so craven as to deny fellow wizards their birthright, Mr. Monroe?"

Monroe and Dumbledore looked at each other in confusion. "Um…yes," Monroe said. "Voldemort was all about getting rid of the muggle-borns in the last war. His entire life's work up till now has—"

"The Dark Lord rewards excellence," Macnair spoke over him, "and he recognises the supremacy of wizardry over the mundane and the inhuman—" There was some shouting from delegates for countries where part humans were more common, but Macnair went on. "—Why, already, Minister Rookwood has hired back Dirk Cresswell as head of the Goblin Liaison Office—a muggle-born."

That was a genuine surprise to both Monroe and Dumbledore. Cresswell was one of the muggle-borns from the Ministry who had not evacuated to France, instead going home to protect his family. Presumably, by the time they were ready to go, the proverbial gates had already come down. Tokenism, surely, or else the Death Eaters considered talking to non-humans beneath them, but it was still a surprise.

The murmurs rose around them as Dumbledore and Monroe conferred about what to do. This really threw a wrench into their argument. They could try to refute it, but it wasn't clear how well it would work. Eventually, Monroe called out, "Supreme Mugwump, I wish to enter certain reports from inside Britain into the record. What Mr. Macnair claims does not match what we have heard coming out of there. These reports document that many enemies of Voldemort are being rounded up or pursued, muggle-borns chief among them. Some have even been accused of 'stealing magic!'"

That did get some support from the delegates. Few nations held to that racist superstition anymore, if they ever did, and were ready to refute it, but Macnair was ready for them. After the reports were accepted, he said, "Supreme Mugwump, these reports are grossly exaggerated if not outright lies! No one in the British Isles has been arrested for 'stealing magic.' There are provisions for stealing family magic, but this is a tort, not a crime; I won't waste the Assembly's time with the intricacies of inheritance law. And certainly, no muggle-born has been arrested simply for being muggle-born. Minister Rookword and the Chief Warlock are simply making a new push for enforcing the Statute of Secrecy, and that fact is that muggle-borns are notorious for having looser lips than other wizards.

Dumbledore's face fell, and a flash of fear crossed Monroe's face. They had been outplayed. They might still win the vote to keep Monroe seated, but they'd still been outplayed. The ICW cared about maintaining the Statute of Secrecy before anything else, and Voldemort was being scrupulous about it, which played right into his hands because most muggle-borns did violate the Statute of Secrecy—purposefully and usually knowingly. They told their grandparents; they told their close muggle friends; if they married a muggle, they told them before the wedding and often before they were engaged. They were slipshod about magical pets and artifacts in muggle areas where purebloods mostly just avoided muggle areas.

"Dumbledore, can we propose sanctions for something else?" Monroe whispered. "False arrest? Denial of due process?"

"Not without hard evidence, David," Dumbledore whispered back. "We will have to go on the basis of the coup until we have more information. For now, let us focus on holding on to the British seat."

"They won the vote, but it was a near thing, Mr. Major," Cornelius Fudge spoke to the mirror. "The fact that You-Know-Who is enforcing the Statute of Secrecy is a mark in his favour."

Prime Minister John Major looked back at him grimly from the enchanted mirror. "You did win, though, Fudge," he said. "They took your side over his."

"Yes, but there's nothing to stop Macnair from petitioning again next January," Fudge insisted. "Sooner if there's a major shift in the war."

"Hmm. How bad will it be if that happens?"

"It won't be good. With me still recognised at the legitimate Minister, the French Ministry can continue hosting us at little cost to themselves, and it's easy to keep up diplomacy with other countries. If we lose the seat, that gets more complicated."

"I see. So it's a China-Taiwan sort of situation?" the Prime Minister asked.

"Um…well, that is—"

"If I understand right, it's a similar situation, sirs." Auror Savage came into view behind Major.

"Alright, then," Major said. "Is there anything we can do here to help you?"

Fudge sighed: "Not a lot, I'm afraid. The fact that you're still in coordination with me helps in theory, but if we tell them that, they'll be even more determined to suborn or replace you."

"I can resist mind control, Mr. Fudge. Well enough to get myself noticed, anyway."

"Just replace, then. They can do that without looking suspicious to muggle authorities. We'll do what we can, of course, but the risk will still be there."

Major crossed his arms: "Hmph. It sounds like I'm getting a lot of the risk with none of the leverage to do anything about it."

Fudge blustered a little. "Well—well—you don't have to get involved, you know," he said.

"Her Majesty disagrees, Fudge. And I agree with her. You are British subjects, even if you don't think of yourselves as such, and we don't appreciate not having any influence in something like this."

"Er—I mean to say—I'll see what I can do, but the ICW likes it this way. They don't want muggles butting in in any form, no offence. Speaking of the matter, has the 'new Ministry' contacted you at all?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Major grumbled. "That Rookwood fellow showed up last Tuesday to give me the 'official introduction.' Bloke made my skin crawl—and was an arsehole, besides. I was dealing with the mess from the Buckingham 'Bombing,' and I demanded answers, but he wasn't even listening. He just told me how important it was that I keep the knowledge of magic secret, as if I didn't know that already." He scoffed: "You treated me like a child when I first got in, no offence. He treated me like I was the janitor—only there to clean up his messes."

"Sounds about right for a Death Eater," Fudge said. "I wouldn't recommend you be in the same room alone with him."

"That much is obvious. And the original question is how do I handle him when I'm still working with you?"

"Yes, right," he replied. "Well, the way I see it, there are two things you can do. You can listen and nod at whatever Rookwood says and don't mention me; or you can confront him, tell him that you're still working with me, and so will anyone who replaces you."

"Lovely. I'll think about it. Speaking of replacements, we've got general elections coming up next spring, and honestly, I was going to get trounced even before the bombing. The economy hasn't been doing so well in our world. I've already discussed bringing Tony Blair in on the secret with Ms. Savage. He'll need to be able to resist mind control on day one."

Fudge rubbed his chin nervously. "Hmm, it's not ideal," he said. "The ICW will complain, but it's better than him getting Imperiused. Auror Savage, you have my permission to bring him in at the Prime Minister's discretion."

"Yes, Minister," she said.

"Incidentally, what's the situation on that resistance movement Amelia was talking about, Auror?"

"I'm working on it, sir, but it's hard to move about or even pass information around by magical means. I've felt out a few people. Aberforth Dumbledore is on board, but he insists he's not doing any fighting. I'm still trying to get communication I can trust with Dirk Cresswell. We're not ready for anything big yet."

"Alright, keep me posted, Auror. Good day, Prime Minister. Mirror off."

Cornelius Fudge sighed and leaned forward, covering his face with his hands.