Darkness.
Darkness and noise. She had been dragged off somewhere, but the only glimpse she caught when she peeked beneath her blindfold was of a white steeple of a church. The blindfold was then pulled tighter down, but it would be enough. She recognized the place.
She wasn't able to move. She was hit with a petrifying spell before they carried her off here... wherever this place was. And now she sat, unable to do much except listen, listen to someone walking around, preparing something. She heard something being set into place, something being dragged forward to her with a grinding noise. A heavy table from the sound of it.
„Minister for Magic," she heard a voice at her left. „I've been wanting to meet you for so very long."
If not for the petrifying spell, she would've said, I'm not hiding. You could've knocked. She almost went to say exactly that, but–
Wait.
Hermione found, to her shock, that she could move her jaw and eyes – not that she could see anything beyond her blindfold – and that her throat could form sounds, meaning she could speak. Meaning they wanted her to speak. She wasn't going to speak.
„No answer?" the voice continued. To her left she heard the creak of a chair, and turned her head in direction of the sound, where she assumed he sat. She had never heard him speak, but she assumed the voice belonged to Malachi Greymist, and that she was now his guest. „You are a wonder to me, Miss Granger. But this is what I expected. I needed to know that you were the same idealist who fought against Tom Riddle, so many years ago. And you did not disappoint."
She wasn't sure whether to be flattered or offended. Hermione remained silent.
„Very well, let's get down to business: I have hidden an alchemical weapon of mass destruction in a major metropolitan area. It will be unleashed unless my demands are met." She heard a rustle of paper as her host continued. „When you accept my demands, you will be untied and your blindfold will be removed so you can sign the treaty before you, making your surrender unconditional and final."
When you accept my demands, he had said. Not if, but when. Hermione had kept her silence. She would not keep her silence anymore. „And your demands are?"
„You shall proclaim the unconditional surrender of the Ministry of Magic and all its subjects to the Dark Lord. The wizardkind of Great Britain, and all the armed forces at the Ministry's disposal, shall pledge allegiance to the new regime. They shall comply with all requirements which may be imposed by I, Malachi Greymist, or by the offices of the Ministry of Magic which will, henceforth, be mine to command. The Statute of Secrecy shall be abolished. The wizarding world shall formally rejoin the outside world it had shunned for so very long."
Always and again the shall. It brought to mind a line from Shakespeare. Coriolanus, specifically. Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you his absolute shall? Once he was done, Hermione asked, „Is that all?"
„Yes, that is all," her captor replied. She thought she heard a smile in his answer.
„Right, then. If I may ask... why? Why all of this? Why command my surrender? The surrender of all wizards in England, wherever they may be situated? To what end? What will you do if your terms are accepted? Our people are not fond of tyrants," she reminded him. „Even if I sign this piece of paper, there is no guarantee that they will obey it. So... supposing I sign this, what then?"
She thought she heard exasperation in his breath. „Our people hid themselves during the witch hunts. The witch hunts are over, the Inquisition is no more, and the Statute of Secrecy is obsolete. Our people will stand proud for the first time in centuries. Resign and let a new epoch begin. An epoch of unity. Believe me, under my protection, no wizard or witch will ever need to fear persecution again."
Thus far, she was unimpressed. „You're bluffing," she decided.
„Am I?"
He had to be. There was no way he already had enough poison to wipe out London. And if he did, would he have enough of it left over for whoever wished to make him answer for such an act of terrorism? Not to mention that this move seemed so uncharacteristically... unwise. „Your goal is unity, yes? Suppose you wipe out the greatest city of muggles. How keen do you think they would be to submit to you? If you destroy London they will come to you not as a delegation declaring surrender, but as an army."
„Maybe so. But the Angel of the Lord is the first weapon of its kind, a new and revolutionary increase in destruction. With it, we can go toe–to–toe with the very best of them."
„May I see it?" she asked.
„What?"
„This Angel of the Lord. May I see it?"
„If you see anything, it's because I want you to see."
„You people are all the same," she sneered. „You hide behind lofty ideals, all the while threatening millions with destruction."
„How many millions have perished while wizardkind hid itself for more than three hundred years?" Malachi countered. „How many diseases could have been eradicated? How many wars stopped before they spiralled out of control? How many schemes by the great and the good against their subjects could have been thwarted? How much pain and misery could have been avoided?"
„We were trying to help. We ended up being hunted," she hissed. „Tortured. Burned at stakes. Forgotten your history, have you?"
„I have forgotten nothing. Rest assured, under my rule, no such atrocities will be repeated. You're a halfbreed like me," he said, and she felt the tip of his finger point against her chest. „You came into power in 2019, you had your chance to change the system. And what have you done? Instead of seizing the beast by the horns you tried to understand it, reason with it. And it swallowed you alive, absorbed you, like your predecessor and his predecessor. Just another cog in the machine. I am no cog."
„I will sign no document you place before me."
He was truly annoyed now. Annoyed, or impassioned, she could not tell. „Perhaps you can't see it. Perhaps you won't. I demand only the power to bridge the abyss. My goal is the glory of all mankind, wizard or muggle. If you do not keep up then you will be left behind, along with the antiquated system you perpetuated. The wizardkind wields a power that could propel us to the stars, and still you remain hidden when this planet of ours could be the center of a mighty empire, the greatest achievement in our history. We could be gods."
„You are not fit to be a god!" she snarled. „I can see your heart, eaten away by the flame of ambition. I do not deny that you have a point, good sir, but all the same, your begging compels me not a jot. If you gain what you seek, you will bring only more discord and misery, and you will feel justified in doing so no matter how many have to die for your dream to live."
She stopped there, awaiting... what? For him to start shouting even more passionately, trying to convince her of his ideals? Ideals that any teenager could come up with. She had some ideals of her own, she remembered. And what of it?
Malachi did not shout. What now? Would she be beaten, tortured until she accepted? Would she be killed outright and be usurped regardless of whether or not she agreed to his terms? Deep inside, she felt he knew the same thing she did: that the paper was a mere formality. Contracts are signed on papers all the time, and yet, papers can be torn, shredded, burned, ignored.
The would–be overlord of all wizardkind of England kept his silence. This was it, then, she thought. He wanted to unnerve and intimidate through silence. Well, he was welcome to try.
„Oh, Miss Granger..." he broke the silence at last. „You disappoint me. So convinced that you are right to oppose tyranny, and that everyone else is wrong. But then again, I expected nothing less from the generation that fought Tom Riddle. Do you know what you just did? You might say you can imagine. I do not believe you."
The blindfold came off.