HP: A Magical Journey

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“I don’t like this.” Amelia Bones slammed a thick manilla folder on the long conference table. “We had more than a dozen reported cases just this week. Reported cases! We don’t even know how many went unreported!” She fixed a look on the people sitting around the table that clearly told them she was greatly displeased. “We have had an explosion in the Aurors Office. Then the Dark Lord dared to barge into the Ministry, took hostages, put lives at risk. . . and it took two outsiders to repel him away— and one of them is a wanted criminal. Does anyone of you realize how that looks to the public? That the Ministry can’t do anything without Albus Dumbledore’s help. An absolute disgrace!”

Some of the biggest names in the Ministry— Head of DMLE Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror Gawain Robards, Head Hit Wizard Cillain Parry, Retired Captain Auror and Defense Consultant Alastor Moody, among many others— listened to the Minister in silence.

She picked up the newspaper and opened it to read the article, “Every Ministry employee ranging from office heads to the Minister of Magic herself have a bounty on their heads that can be collected in the seedy world of Knockturn Alley, dotted with connections to the Death Eaters.”

Amelia pushed the newspaper away as she dumped herself in the head chair, and with her fingers massaging her temple, she asked, “What is the situation with these Snatchers?”

Robards leaned towards the table and patted a folder in front of him twice but didn’t open it. “We have caught seven of them this month. . . . Another seven resisted arrest, and unfortunately, they lost their lives.”

The new law regarding lethal action against Death Eaters included a section that allowed an extension against groups like the Snatchers.

“What are the ones in custody saying?” she asked.n

“Nothing. . those dimwits know nothing. They’re just trying to earn gold

by rounding up Muggle-borns and ‘blood traitors.’ It is a hassle to clean up after them and their mess— some of them made a ruckus right in the middle of a muggle public square— at least the marked Death Eaters are careful about where they let the magic out. How are we supposed to handle the root of the problem if we are busy chasing after the fools?”

“That is your job to figure out,” Amelia sighed. She turned to Scrimgeour and spoke, “You’re coming with me to the Muggle Prime Minister’s office. The Auror in charge of his protection has been sending memos after memos saying he wants to meet. It’s on this Friday evening.”

Even the ever-serious Rufus Scrimgeour had a twitch when he heard the words ‘Friday evening’ in the work context.

“Understood,” said Scrimgeour. He glanced towards the door once before turning to Amelia. “I still don’t think it is good to get outsiders involved. DMLE is more than capable of handling this situation on our own.”

“Whether you like it or not, he and his group are a substantial effort against the Dark Lord. In this situation, it is better to coordinate with them for information.” Amelia turned to Moody, “Isn’t that right, Alastor.”

Moody grunted, which to those who know him was a grunt of affirmation.

“But, Amelia, you just talked about how you didn’t like Dumbledore’s involvement in the Dark Lord incident,” said Scrimgeour.

“No, I didn’t like it,” said Amelia bluntly, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate it. If he wasn’t there that day, many innocent lives could’ve been lost. And this time, I’m inviting Dumbledore and his Order of Phoenix upfront and—” she narrowed her eyes “— you can’t talk about outsider involvement after your meeting with George West.”

“We need potions and their ingredients at a cheaper rate,” defended Scrimgeour. “West can deliver us with that; we can even get Greengrass to sell us at a discount through West.”

“I’m not complaining.”

Scrimgeour sighed and rested his complaint. He looked at his wristwatch and frowned, “He is late. This is an important meeting. If he expects us to work together, then he must be on time—”

The meeting hall’s door opened, and Albus Dumbledore, dressed in his starry-patterned robes, entered the room with a smile beneath his beard and a shine in his eyes as if he was delighted to see everyone in the room.

“My apologies, everyone. I was caught up gazing at a bird I thought I had never seen before. Turns out someone had colored a Magpie in some fascinating shades. I suspect they came from the mind and hands of a brilliant child.” Dumbledore sat down on an empty chair right between Rufus Scrimgeour and Cillain Parry, smiling at both heads as if it was a Hogwarts reunion.

“If I missed something, I would request if someone could catch me up quickly,” said the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

“You missed nothing,” said Amelia and moved forward without wasting any time. “I want an update on the Taboo curse. How could the Dark Lord cast such magic in the country? I thought we had taken away the means he had used to cast the Taboo curse the last time.”

All eyes turned to the person sitting on the other head of the table, who hadn’t spoken a single word since his arrival.

Saul Croaker, an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysterious, tapped his fingers on the table for a moment before speaking up, “On the day Voldemort—”

“Are you mad?! Why are you taking his name?!” cried Parry.

Croaker sighed, “Do you think the Snatchers will come barging into the Ministry?”

“He will know someone spoke his name inside the Ministry. Speaking his name carelessly might become your downfall, Unspeakable,” scoffed Parry.

“I can say Voldemort,” Croaker said, and people in the room frowned, “as many times I want, wherever I want, and the Taboo won’t get triggered.”

“Unspeakables have a way to evade the Taboo?” asked Amelia.

Croaker nodded.

“. . . But it is not something that anyone can use,” Amelia threw a guess.

Croaker nodded again, causing Amelia to sigh, “Continue.”

“On the day Voldemort and his Death Eater came barging in, there was another party that secretly entered the Ministry, taking advantage of the commotion, and made their way to Level-9 to get something that enabled the Dark Lord to cast a Taboo over the lands of the country.”

“What is this something?” asked Dumbledore.

“That is confidential information, not to be shared outside of the Department of Mysteries,” Croaker spoke the words as if he had rehearsed them until his throat was raw.

“I, with my authority, as the Minister of Magic, order you to disclose that information, Unspeakable Croaker,” Amelia spoke with her tone daring him to defy it.

Croaker shrugged, “You’re privy to that information, Madam Minister— but,” he pointed to the rest of the people in the room, “they can’t know about it.”

“What?”

“According to Section 44-DOM of the unnamed code drafted in the unspecified year by unknown parties, the Minister of Magic has access to a certain level of classified information in the Department of Mysteries, but they’re not allowed to discuss those facts with anyone outside the Department of Mysteries.”

“That is bullshit,” the crude language didn’t make a single eye twitch.

“There’s a sub-section in the law wherewith an internal vote inside the Department of Mysteries can lead the classified status to be revoked, or select people can be given temporary clearance status to the information. . . but other than that, the Department of Mysteries holds the rights to the information produced by us,” Croaker answered with a straight face. “As for this specific piece of information, there’s no need to go through the procedure— it’s not something that would make a difference if more people knew it.”

“. . . I’m shocked how your Department isn’t overrun with corruption,” Scrimgeour said with derision.

“We have our ways to keep everyone in check,” said Croaker, smiling mysteriously. “And who knows, we might be teeming with corruption. . . . Whatever, the works been going on well, so no complaints.”

The way he said that was so potentially serious with such a light tone made people stare at him for a good second.

“I am assuming it was Augustus Rockwood who led that other party?” Dumbledore continued the conversation along.

“Yes, Augustus Rockwood, an Ex-Unspeakable,” Croaker said that term as if he had tasted something bitter. He looked to Amelia, “You know. . . we don’t have that. . . Ex-Unspeakable. We have retired Unspeakables, and they don’t have to be oldies who don’t work another day in their lives; we have plenty of young guys who leave us to pursue other interests. . . but not a single Ex-Unspekable— that is, until Augustus Rockwood came along and the Ministry had to make everything a media spectacle. We couldn’t deal with Rockwood as we usually do with others in his position.

If this time around, we find another Death Eater Unspeakable— we did a thorough check this time, but still, if we do— please make sure that we get to deal with them this time. If we dealt with him back then, we wouldn’t have this situation today.”

“We will see to that. Let’s get back to where we were before.”

“In the case of Ministry headquarters being compromised, like it came close becoming, the protocol for the Department of Mysteries is to pack up everything important and leave the premises. Even down at the ninth, people were in a hurry packing their respective inventory— and what was used in the Taboo magic is really specific and not useful for a lot of other magic— so it was down the list of priority packing. . . . It was somewhere in there that Rockwood and his group came in, took the stuff they needed, stunned the poor boy in charge of the area before leaving.”

“Stunned. . . not killed?” asked Robards

“Rockwood knew better than to kill an Unspeakable. He might have been one of our more battle-oriented members, but he knows that he wasn’t the only one and the trouble it would bring him if he did kill in his old workspace.”

The smile on Croaker’s face was simple, but at the same time, it lacked the humor it was trying to portray.

“Can you stop the Taboo?” asked Parry.

“We can. Destroy the anchor to which the magic is tied or kill the caster. But I doubt we can either do that easily.”

Dumbledore said, “In the last war, Unspeakables were working on another method that would forcefully eradicate the magic. Are you working on something similar this time?”

“. . . You know too much, Dumbledore. We need to do something about that.” Croaker stared at Dumbledore in silence for a moment before speaking, “Yes, we are working on something. But because the approach to casting the magic is different than the last time, we are working up from the ground up.”

“So, you don’t know until when it will be ready?” commented Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye.

“No, we don’t.”

“Voldemort will—”

“Unspeakables can speak his name, Dumbledore; that doesn’t extend to you,” said Croaker.

“I understand it doesn’t extend to me. But who said I can’t cast something similar on my own.”

Croaker’s eyes observed Dumbledore. “You have found a way to dodge the Taboo magic?”

“Of course, it was easy enough to figure it out the last time around Voldemort cast it.”

Dumbledore smiled and then Croaker smiled. The two smiled at each other like the best of a friend until the door swung open, and a Hit Wizard came barging with a labored breath and hurry in his eyes.

“What is the meaning of this, Rust?” asked Parry.

“S-Sir, a group of Snatchers tied together were suddenly dropped at our backdoor entry. . . and t-their hands sir— their hands are crippled sir.”

As soon as everyone in the room heard about crippled hands, they got up as all brains pointed in the same direction.

“It’s the Invisible Vigilante, sir!”

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Amelia Bones – Minister of Magic – This job better gets easier.

Gawain Robards – Head Auror – The lethality law is excellent, but they need to reduce the paperwork. . . or at least streamline it.

Rufus Scrimgeour – Head of DMLE – I want a wartime budget.

Saul Croaker – Unspeakable – No comments.

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