Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Woolworth Building, New York City
Margaret Flume, President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America strode into the boardroom, letting the thick doors slam closed behind her.
"Jeffrey!" She called out, making him look up from his notes, "any news from South America?"
He shook his head.
"Fuck!" She snarled. "No more from Castelobruxo?"
"Nothing new. They're in lockdown, but they're taking in the families of their students. That's all"
She collapsed into an armchair, and raising a glass to her lips, examined the man sitting opposite her.
Jeffrey Hilcomb. The lines on his face and the graying hair near his temples told a story of his last thirty years as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. During that time, she'd worked closely with him. She'd never seen him falter, never seen him truly worry.
Not until this crisis, at least.
' Then again. Not since the days of Alexander the Great has one man threatened us all so much. If he's even still a man'
But there was something on Jeffrey's face now. Some unreadable expression, that filled her with a sense of worrisome foreboding.
' Fuck. No. No'
"Madam President," He said, sounding no different than he had during all the years, "Margaret. We-we need to talk"
Her eyes caught the seal emblazoned on the oak table. The seal of MACUSA. The seal of her government. The sign of freedom and democracy.
' Will that be replaced with his skull and snake?'
"I never would have pegged you as a traitor," she said, voice iron.
He winced at that, quite satisfactorily, she thought.
"It's not treason" he quickly said, "we're just-"
"Betraying everything that we hold dear"
Her eyes wandered to the bald eagle again.
"Listen! I've been speaking to the Aurors, to the hit-wizards. To the soldiers. We don't-we don't want to die for the No-Majs. Why should we? Why should we risk our lives for people who would just as quickly kill us if they knew about us?"
"So you would happily sit back for a genocide?" She spat.
He raised his hands beseechingly, arms spread wide.
"What else should we die? Fight? That's suicide! We can't stand against Europe and Asia, never mind the cartels that already sworn to him! We can't do it! The only way we possibly could, would be to bring in the No-Majs, and that's suicide! They'd turn on us, and you know it!"
There was so much she wanted to say back. But somehow, she couldn't find the words to say anything.
"Think about it! Please, Margaret! Everything we've done, everything the government ever did, has been to hide us from them. And why should we? Why should we hide anymore? Why must our children grow up in secrecy? Why can't we build these towering edifices wherever we wish?"
"Rappaport's Law-" she began, quickly being interrupted by Jeffrey as he stood up, waving his arms in agitation.
"Rappaport's Law was enough for the time, but it won't be for much longer. War is coming, Margaret. It's already here. And with their technology, we won't be able to keep it hidden. We will be discovered, and they will attack us. Remember the Trials? They'll start again, and they'll be a thousand times worse. We have no real choice. Please. Please. You've trusted me for over thirty years. We've led this nation for over thirty years. Trust me now. We have no real choice but to surrender"
The emblem drew her eyes again.
"What of democracy?" She whispered.
"It won't end. He-He'll have a veto say, and He'll have certain rules that will be non-negotiable, but we'll still have-"
She'd heard enough. Shaking her head, she spoke quietly, her voice gaining strength and volume as she went on. "No. No. We will not choose a tyrant for our people. No, Jeffrey. How could you? How could you expect this of me? To stand aside while he slaughters No-Majs like animals? To allow him free reign in our country? To allow him free reign amongst our people? No. No, Jeffrey. I say no. And I am still President, so-"
But he was slumping back in his chair, looking more desperate than ever she'd seen him.
"I told them. I told them I could make you see reason. I told them that it wouldn't come to this"
Her wand was out before his hand had reached into his jacket pocket.
"You will not. You will not place me under the Imperius. I wouldn't have thought it if you, but-"
"I'm not drawing my wand. I swear it. But there's something I need to show you"
His hand moved, extremely slowly.
And he pulled out a brown envelope.
"Look. Look, Margaret. Look, and make your choice"
She kept her wand trained on him. Her left hand trembled as it tore open the envelope.
And pulled out a series of glossy photographs. Taken using a No-Maj camera, obviously. The subjects weren't moving.
Her heart all but stopped.
"You fucking traitor bastard" she whispered, tears welling up as cold fury filled her.
"They'll be released after the surrender is formally declared. Margaret, they're fine. Bobby and McKenzie are fine, and the kids are as well"
She splayed the photos out toward him, the fear on her granddaughter's face evident.
"Is that what you call fine? Is it? Where-"
"Neither she nor her brother-"
"Say their names. Say their names. You know them. Say their names"
He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple moving.
"Jeffrey and Amanda are fine, and-"
"They named him for you. They named him for you, you son of a bitch. I trusted you-"
He suddenly shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "They're fine! They're fine, and unless you're stupid, they' going to stay that way! Now, think about it, Margaret-"
"Don't call me that. You lost that right"
He started walking out of the room.
"Madam President, then. Just-just think about it. We have no chance in a war, and our ideal goals barely differ from His"
"Has he Marked you yet? As his bitch? That's all you are, Jeffery. A traitorous bitch, and one day-"
His voice overrode hers, but she could see that her words had hurt him.
"I will be reporting back in an hour. No answer is equivalent to a no. They don't want to hear a no. Jeffrey and Amanda don't want you to give a no. And-and we could use you, to lead us through the transition"
The door slammed behind him, and she could hear it lock.
' Fuck'
She let out an anguished roar.
' If there are traitors this high in the government. We've lost before we've even started. And Congress has been pushing for us to surrender for weeks already. How many of them are his? We've lost. We've lost before we've even started. We can't win this'
She screamed again, trying to release her frustration and pain.
There was really only one option for her to take.
The Spiny Serpent, Knockturn Alley
He walked up the staircase from the pub to the room above it, his arm bumping into the rails. His other arm curled into his body, clutching a bag full of groceries. He walked with heavy steps, his brutishly large form seeming unwieldy.
' I really hate this bloody body'
He walked through the dingy hallway, his bulky shoulders brushing up against the peeling paint. When he reached the room that he wanted, he knocked five times, in a precise pattern.
After a moment, the door opened.
He could see a wand pointed at him from the gloomy interior.
"Mimbulus Mimbeltonia"
The wand was withdrawn, and he hurried in.
"I had to take a second dose," he said before any questions could be asked. "Got a bit worried about the timing. But otherwise, went ok. No one really asked any questions"
"And?"
"And what?"
"Did you get the paper?"
"Of course. Bloody hell, Hermione, you'd think you can't trust me with anything"
Abruptly, her arms were thrown around him.
"Oh. Neville" she whispered, "you know I'd trust you with anything. Its just-things are a bit tense. Ron's a bit-upset"
"I can hear you, you know"
Neville turned to the third occupant in the room. Hermione's glamor and disguise charms really were great. No-one would recognize the chubby blonde guy as being Ron Weasley, or the redhead girl with the large nose as being Hermione Granger. And when the polyjuice wore off, no-one would be able to tell that he was Neville Longbottom.
"Ron?" He asked cautiously, "what's up, mate?"
"Another Patronus from dad. He's going out his fucking mind with worry. And it would just be so much better if we were actually doing something, but-"
"Oi! Mate, we got the Cup, and we took care of it. Now we just need to figure out-"
"Exactly!" Ron stood up and began pacing. "We need to figure out where the others are. But we have no fucking clue! They could be anywhere! And-and I'm in it, I'm with you guys, you know that. But it's just-just so much harder to ignore dad when it doesn't feel like we're doing anything!"
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said softly, putting her arms around him. "I know it's difficult. But we'll get through it. We just need some idea, some lead"
"I-I've been thinking," Neville said. "I think-I think we need to speak to a Death Eater"
Hermione stared him straight in the eyes. She understood what he meant, what he wasn't saying.
Ron, on the other hand, didn't.
"Yeah, well, the Veritaserum still has another two weeks to go, and none of us can really do that Legilemency thing, so-"
"I-I meant that-that we should-we should make them talk"
Neville swallowed heavily after his pronouncement.
' If It has to be done, I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes'
"Neville," Hermione said gently, "I-I don't think we should-"
"No. He's right" Ron said suddenly. He was a bit greenish, but he plunged on. "Merlin, but he's right. Veritaserum can be blocked against. T-torture-"
"Can also, Ron! Neville, it won't-we can't-we can't sink to their level. We just-we can't-"
"We have to. We have to" He said thickly. "Ron's right. We're wandering around blind. We-for fuck's sake, Hermione, we have no clue. We have to do it. With the Veritaserum as well. Otherwise-otherwise it just-we can't know. We need an idea of where to go next-"
"Neville" her eyes focused on him, pleading. "Please. Remember how hard it was, with the Cup? And that-that was the Killing Curse, not the-the Cruciatus. And it wasn't on a person. Could-could you-"
He nodded slowly. "If I have to. I will. I'll do it, Hermione. I'll do anything"
She kept her eyes trained on his for a bit longer before looking at Ron.
"If-if we do this. We can't just-just obliviate them"
"No. We can't" Ron said grimly.
"Then we need to start planning. We'll-we'll have to pull this off perfectly. We'll need our questions planned out, everything"
Neville and Ron fell silent as Hermione's voice washed over them.
Dumbledore's words ran through his mind again.
' Good hunting'
Order of the Phoenix safe house, Bristol
"So, he's said he wants us ready," Diggle said, "the next few days, and he wants us to act"
"Again. He wants Potter?" Kingsley asked, sounding as calm as ever.
"Aye. Dead or alive, but preferably alive. He wants him badly, and-"
Remus turned to face them with a snarl. The last few months had been terrible on him. Besides Harry's betrayal, besides Dumbledore's murder, besides even Tonks' capture. He hadn't had any Wolfsbane, and the combined stress of his current life was slowly making him more and more wolf-like every day.
His face was gaunt, his eyes shadowed deeper than ever before, his hair grayer. He was slowly losing control.
"We take him alive" he growled. "He-he might know where she is. He might, damnit!"
Dedalus and Kingsley shared a look. Kingsley gave his head a small shake, but Dedalus chose to ignore that.
"Remus," he said gently, "it's been months. Months, mate. You need to come to terms with it. That she's probably been-"
"What would you do, if it was your wife? Huh? If it was one of your kids? Would you give up?"
"I wouldn't," Dedalus said, surrendering.
"Then neither will I. We capture him alive. He's got a lot to answer for"
"Those Weasley twins sent us some gifts," Diggle said, opening his hand and revealing a few beads clutched within. "Little explosives. Based on runes, they said. Should come in handy"
Remus turned and punched the wall, muttering under his breath again.
"Kingsley?"
Kingsley tore his eyes away and looked at Dedalus.
"You-you're my Secret Keeper. What happens-what happens if you-if you-"
"If I die?"
Diggle nodded.
"The Fidelius breaks. It's one of the downsides to the spell. But I'll do my best to keep that from happening"
"Please do. Mary'd kill me if anything went wrong, after all my talk about protections"
Kingsley laughed, a deep chortle. "I'll certainly try harder. Wouldn't want your wife angry with me"
"No" Diggle muttered, standing up, "no, you really wouldn't. Bloody women, I tell you"
Villa Zabini
"That," Blaise said, stretching out and kissing Theo on the back of the neck, "was fucking amazing"
Theo arched his back, pushing up against him.
Blaise stroked his lover, letting his fingers run along his entrance, letting them feel his own drying seed.
"You're the best, Theo, you know that" he carried on kissing his neck, raising his hand up and around, gently putting it into Theo's mouth, "I love you so much"
Theo released his finger with a popping sound. "Thanks" he muttered.
"Theo?" Blaise asked, suddenly alarmed, "What's wrong, babe? Was I-was I too rough?"
"Not at all. If anything, I want it rougher. It's-it's nothing"
Blaise pushed his boyfriend around, turning his body until they were staring each other in the eyes.
"Theo," He said warningly, "don't give me that. You've been acting out of it the last few days. Now tell me. What's wrong?"
Theo sat up, leaning against the headboard. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the bedside table and touched his wand to the end of one.
Pungent smoke filled the air as Blaise sat up and followed his example.
They sat there, smoking in silence for a few minutes.
"I walked in on Harry and Daphne the other day" Theo finally said.
"Really? So what, you realized you want to try a pussy out? We could arrange-"
"No. God, no. It was just-you remember that guy, at the ministry? The head of the Goblin Liaison Department?"
Blaise nodded.
"The Dark Lord gave him to them. And they've kept him. I mean, fuck. What they'd done to him"
Theo shivered. Absentmindedly, Blaise pulled the covers up over him, spellbound.
"He was chained to the wall opposite their bed. And they'd-they'd cut off his lips, and his ears, and his nose. And his-his whole body was fucking covered in cuts and burns and shit. Like, they really went to town on him"
"You walked in on them this week?"
"Yeah"
"Merlin" Blaise whispered reverently, "the ministry was almost two weeks ago"
"Exactly. And they've kept him since then. And he-they didn't notice me, they were really going at it. But-but he was screaming. They fucking had him under the Cruciatus while they were fucking"
"That's-that's pretty fucked up"
Theo nodded. "I've-I've seen a lot of messed up shit. I've-I've killed people. I've fought, against the ministry, against the Goblins. But I've never seen anything like that. Never"
Blaise stretched his arms around him, pulling him close.
"And-and the worst is. That-that a part of me was really, really turned on by it"
"That's not so bad," Blaise said, stroking his lover's body. His hand slowly making its way down. "I can kind of hear why. It's all about power, really. Total power"
"Ex-Exactly" Theo moaned, his breath coming quicker as his cock hardened in Blaise's hand.
"Maybe we should try it sometime?" Blaise whispered, his tongue lapping out into Theo's ear.
"Are we-are we monsters?" Theo asked, making Blaise stop his motions.
He cocked his head to the side, thinking about it. He'd certainly killed quite a few people in battle. And he'd tortured and murdered a muggle just to get in. And he'd helped perform the executions at the ministry.
Eventually, he shrugged and started kissing Theo's chest, his head making its way down.
"Maybe we are," He said, "but if so, we are fucking beautiful monsters"
10 Downing Street
The Prime Minister sighed, his eyes flickering to the man sitting in the corner of his office.
Andrew, his name was. Andrew had barely spoken the last few weeks. He'd seemed nervous, keeping his hand on his wooden stick at all times, his eyes darting around.
He'd spent a lot of that time invisible, too. Just shadowing him, invisible. It was downright creepy.
But things weren't looking good. Up until a few weeks ago, he'd been receiving bi-weekly updates from the-the other minister or his envoys.
As terrible as it was, having that communication with a world ninety percent of his constituents did not, could not know existed, the sudden silence from that world was almost worse. A lot worse.
It was outright damning.
He'd begun worrying, in fact, that the lunatic had managed to take control.
But then, tonight, that accursed painting had finally broken its silence with its usual cough.
"The Minister's envoy will be here in ten minutes" it had said.
He glanced at his watch, noticing Andrew doing the same thing.
About a minute to go. These people were generally quite punctual.
"Be-be on your guard, Minister"
He looked up, startled.
Andrew stared at him intently, hand on his-on his wand.
"I've been out of the loop for a while now. And I've got a funny feeling. Just-just be wary"
And then the fireplace lit up green, and a young man swirled out of it.
He had a single, startled moment where he realized that this was not the usual envoy. This scarred, black-haired and green-eyed boy, and he was no more than a boy, was not someone he had seen before.
One single moment of peace, before all hell broke loose.
"You!" Andrew shouted, drawing his wand.
But the newcomer was quicker. He shouted some nonsense phrase and slashed his own wand and Andrew-
Andrew's stomach split open, pale flesh being revealed under his clothes for an instant before his innards came tumbling out.
The Prime Minister stared, shocked at the gore before him.
And the green-eyed boy laughed, a high pitched, cruel sound.
"Well. That was fun"
He snatched at the gun that was taped to the bottom of his desk, and only had time to raise it before it was blown out of his hands.
He stared at the boy.
"That's not very nice," the boy said with a giggle. "Not at all"
"Who-who are you?" He whispered.
The boy's grin grew, and he stroked the long scar that ran across his face.
"Me? I'm Harry Potter. Crucio!"
Pain. Pain like nothing he had ever imagined was even possible. He was screaming, he knew it. He was lying on the floor of his office, one of the most powerful men in the nation, screaming as he pissed himself.
And he didn't care at all. All he could think of was a burning desire screamed out by every cell in his body for the pain to end.
Eventually, it did. He lay there, shaking on the carpet, the stench of his vomit sinking into his nose.
"Wh-what a-a-are you?"
He heard the boy's laughter, the grinning demon giggling as he drew nearer.
"I'm your master. Imperio!"
And blissfully, there was nothing in his mind but peace.
Highgate Cemetery
The mist was rising, curling around the waists of the kneeling captives.
His warriors stood ready, just waiting for the signal.
' Let us see how far they are truly willing to go'
"Begin the chant"
They obeyed the words of languages long dead spilling from their lips and echoing into the night.
Into the air of one of the largest cemeteries in England. Not the largest one, no. He had plans for that one. This place though, this would serve well enough for now.
Albus' words echoed in his mind.
' And I feel certain, I fear, that you will be capable of raising an army'
And again, in his letter.
' Raise an army. Raise them'
And he would.
He would show the world what he was capable of.
This, what he was about to do, was almost as great a perversion as the creation of a Horcrux. Almost. To steal the bodies of the dead, to create the abominations that they would become.
Not to mention the sacrifices required.
One of the captives, the girl in front of Patil, seemed to realize what was about to happen. She couldn't speak, of course. The silencing charms prevented the sacrifices from interfering with the ritual.
But her rictus of terror, the way her body shook with silent sobs. Those spoke more than mere words could ever.
He gave a curt nod, and the twin on the far left began.
His silver sickle flashed, as it sliced the throat of the kneeling boy before him.
Grindelwald moved quickly, catching the flowing blood in a large crystal goblet.
He was pleased to see that the Weasley did not seem fazed by what he had done. His face stayed almost blank, only a small snarl crossing his lips for an instant.
Even though they were merely Slytherins, and surely would eventually prove to be Death Eaters in training, he had been afraid that his warriors would balk at sacrificing their schoolmates.
Once the first sacrifice was done, the next twin repeated his brother's action, also showing no emotion.
Then it was Patil's turn. She paused for a moment, her sickle against the kneeling girl's throat.
"I'm sorry, Tracey. I'm sorry" she whispered.
And she too, slit her sacrifice's throat.
He gave the goblet to the eldest twin to hold, while he went to claim the final ingredient.
The chanting began again behind him, in a lower pitch, and faster.
He bent to the final captive.
Gibbons, his name was. He had screamed it out over and over again during his questioning since he had been captured during the battle at Hogwarts.
He was an extremely low ranking Death Eater, barely more than muscle. He had imparted no useful information. But he had been a valuable assistant when it came to teaching his warriors interrogation techniques and other such spells.
And he would come in very handy now.
The Elder Wand flashed, humming its joy as it was used.
Gibbons' chest split open, blood squirting out.
The man's eyes widened, and he clearly tried to scream, but no sound emerged.
The Wand flashed again, and his rib cage shattered outward, bones sticking out like spikes.
Gellert reached in and tore out his still-beating heart.
As it still frantically pumped out its last droplets, he dropped it into the steaming goblet.
He withdrew a small glass vial from his pocket and emptied the Thestral's saliva into the goblet.
He sliced a long cut open in his palm and allowed it to freely bleed into the mixture.
As the chanting reached a fever-pitch, their words seeming to curl around the mist, he took the goblet back from the twin, and with a flowing movement, cast its contents into the air.
The blackish red mixture hovered in mid-air for a second, as the Elder Wand flashed again.
A single lightning bolt, of a black so deep it seemed to suck all surrounding light into itself struck the bloody mixture.
And then split into a thousand, ten thousand separate bolts, each one finding a grave and earthing itself.
For a minute, there was no sound other than that of the wind rustling through the trees.
And then the ground began to rumble.
It shook, as every corpse that had not yet faded to dust regained flesh, and began to escape their graves.
Right before him, a graying, rotten hand punched its way out of the cold earth.
Gellert Grindelwald laughed, and the Weasley Twins and Padma Patil laughed with him, as around the cemetery, ten thousand Inferi began to rise.