"Vice Chairman Watson, do you believe that this attack by the terrorist organisation known as the Death Eaters on Erkstag Wizarding Prison, located within German territory, was anything but a coincidence?"
In the great assembly hall of the Confederation, a representative from the African continent raised the specific question weighing most heavily on everyone's mind.
"What I mean to ask is—is it possible the Death Eaters will continue carrying out further terrorist attacks in other regions, not limiting themselves solely to the facilities where various nations happen to hold their prisoners?"
The German Ministry of Magic had already slunk back to its seat in disgrace, Adenauer's earlier fire was entirely extinguished. Now it was Bryan Watson, representing the British Ministry of Magic, who stood to answer this new, considerably more pressing questioning.
"I believe that is, unfortunately, the most likely way events will continue to unfold from here."
Watson's offhand, unhesitating remark set off a fresh storm of anxious murmuring across the assembly hall.
So long as the calamity hadn't touched them directly, most nations represented in this chamber had regarded, with a certain wry, comfortable amusement, the British Ministry of Magic's own decades-long entanglement with this particular terrorist organisation.
Indeed, the vast majority of the wider wizarding world's inhabitants had come to see the British wizards' own reluctance to even speak the true name of Voldemort—the man who led the Death Eaters as nothing short of cowardice on their part.
But now that the storm had begun sweeping toward their own borders as well, and the wizards gathered here from every corner of the world called properly to mind, for the first time with personal stakes attached, the crimes they had only ever heard secondhand attributed to this Voldemort, they found that they, too, could no longer utter the name "Voldemort" aloud with any trace of their earlier, comfortable ease.
"But why, though?"
Even Chairman Quahog of the MACUSA could not help voicing his own confusion aloud.
"No offence intended, Vice Chairman Watson, Chairman Dumbledore—but as far as we've generally understood it, this dark wizard known as Voldemort has confined the bulk of his activities strictly to British territory since his infamy first became widely known. There are few recorded cases of him waging any continuous terrorist campaigns in other nations before this.
Why, then, would he suddenly choose to change his entire approach and extend his reach into other countries now, at this particular moment?"
"That is easily explained, Chairman Quahog—"
Bryan, standing at the podium, spoke calmly, his voice carrying without strain to every corner of the vast hall.
"Contrary to what Minister Adenauer evidently believes, the Death Eaters' recent push beyond British borders is not because the British Ministry of Magic has failed to crack down hard enough on this evil force domestically. Quite the opposite is actually true, in fact."
"You mean to say—"
Chairman Quahog's eyelids flickered faintly at that, as though something significant had just properly emerged on his mind.
"I imagine everyone gathered here is already well aware of the fierce battle that took place not long ago on Britain's principal commercial thoroughfare—Diagon Alley."
Bryan looked around the packed hall as he said it, and wherever his own gaze happened to fall, heads nodded in ready acknowledgment.
"At a heavy cost, the British Ministry of Magic ultimately emerged victorious from that engagement. Among the tangible gains from that victory: Voldemort himself, who took part in the fighting personally, was driven back and forced to retreat; a considerable number of core Death Eater operatives were killed, wounded, or arrested; several hundred dark wizards who had crossed our own borders illegally in support of his cause were subsequently expelled; and the previously turbulent, unstable security situation within Britain's magical community was, as a result, greatly stabilised—"
Watson said all of this evenly, without any particular emphasis, his gaze drifting lightly across the assembled ministers and regional representatives of the various European nations as he spoke.
And each of them, the moment they happened to meet his eyes, looked away almost immediately, not daring to properly hold his gaze for long.
Exactly where such a vast, sudden number of dark wizards had come from was something everyone present in the room understood perfectly well—and something the various national Ministries of Magic had been, in fact, rather pleased about at the time.
"It was precisely because of this crushing defeat that Voldemort himself, along with a great many within the Death Eaters' own ranks, came to realise that under Amelia Bones's determined leadership, the British Ministry of Magic would act with the utmost, uncompromising resolve to stamp out evil wherever it surfaced. The soil of the British magical world was, quite simply, no longer fit ground for them to survive and operate on!"
Beside Chairman Quahog, Ms. White gave a slight twist of her mouth at that framing.
Anyone with clear eyes in this chamber understood, without needing further explanation, that no matter how brilliant and heroic Amelia Bones might personally be as a leader, she alone was in no position to have led the entire British Ministry of Magic against the Death Eaters to such a decisive, costly victory.
The one who had truly, ultimately forced Voldemort's hand, who had made him abandon his old, comfortable course of action within Britain, was none other than the man now holding forth so eloquently at the podium before them all—Bryan Watson himself.
Of course, the beloved, long-serving chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards, Albus Dumbledore, remained an important factor in the equation as well.
But his own well-known methods of confronting terrorist organisations were far too conciliatory and passive for the current moment—nothing at all like the "ruthless and merciless" approach of Bryan Watson.
The chief powers of the world's various magical civilisations all understood quite well, in private if not in public, that the so-called Battle of Diagon Alley—the very engagement that had dealt such heavy losses to the Death Eaters' organisation had been driven forward entirely, from beginning to end, by Watson's own forceful hand.
And yet, here in this particular assembly hall tonight, remarkably few present felt any real joy at Vice Chairman Watson's achievement.
"Vice Chairman Watson—would you be so kind as to give this assembly a properly detailed account of the true, current strength of this terrorist organisation, the Death Eaters, under Voldemort's leadership?"
One of the vice-chairmen among the seven council seats asked.
"Voldemort himself is a wizard of formidable power, one whose raw magical strength may well rival Chairman Dumbledore's own—"
Bryan nodded once toward Dumbledore across from him.
"As for the terrorist organisation he leads, we have not yet fully determined the exact number of its core members—the Death Eaters—but it is no fewer than fifty individuals, every single one of them a powerful, well-trained wizard of elite ability.
Beyond that core group, even after the crushing defeat we inflicted at Diagon Alley, the number of non-core dark wizards remaining under Voldemort's broader influence and control stands at no less than five hundred additional individuals, and these, too, are not to be casually dismissed as mere foot soldiers.
I would also ask that none of you present tonight overlook the sobering fact that Erkstag has just suffered a successful invasion. That prison held several hundred remaining members of the Purists within its walls, as well as several hundred more dark wizards imprisoned there for crimes over the years.
We do not yet know precisely how many of these criminals perished in the resulting collapse and landslide, but I believe, based on everything we've gathered, that this terrorist organisation went to such genuinely great and costly lengths specifically to destroy Erkstag for reasons that extended well beyond mere slaughter or spectacle.
Recruiting fresh members into their own ranks was, I am now convinced, their true underlying objective all along. If that assessment proves correct, then the total number of dark wizards under Voldemort's control may well approach a thousand individuals or more, in the very near future!"
Bryan's expression turned grave as he delivered this final figure.
"I ask the members of this assembly to be properly, seriously on their guard tonight—nearly a thousand powerful, coordinated dark wizards is not even the full extent of the true danger we face.
Should we show the slightest sign of weakness or hesitation in our confrontation with the Death Eaters going forward, then the countless dark wizards lurking in every shadowed corner of our magical civilisation, will move the moment they catch wind of that weakness, rushing to join the Death Eaters' expanding ranks, each one eager to seize whatever advantage they can for themselves in the coming, wider war.
And the seductive banner of 'restoring pureblood glory' that Voldemort has raised will likewise beguile a considerable number of stubborn, older wizards still clinging to outdated, dangerous notions of blood purity. They may not join the actual terrorist activities outright themselves, mindful of the personal risk, but they will nonetheless lend the Death Eaters aid in secret, through funding or information or simple willful blindness.
Finally, I would remind everyone gathered here that the immense wealth this organisation's members already command between them will bring lasting turmoil to the commercial and industrial worlds of every nation represented in this chamber—the worker strikes and economic disruption that broke out across Britain last month stand as clear, undeniable proof of exactly this dynamic in action!"
A pall of gloom and despair settled slowly over the entire grand assembly hall as the full accounting concluded.
Nearly every delegate present now sat with their brows knit tight in private worry.
Few in this chamber had genuinely, seriously given thought to this particular question before tonight but now, after Bryan Watson's thorough disclosure of the Death Eaters' true scope and strength before the assembly, the ministers and regional representatives of every nation present could not help but feel a fresh tremor of dread settle into their chests.
At this very moment, a terrorist organisation numbering potentially in the thousands—unscrupulous, without a shred of restraint, secretly commanding vast financial wealth, and capable of expanding its own ranks at any given moment given the right catalyst—lurked in the surrounding darkness, stirring, poised and patient, waiting to strike some fatal, decisive blow against the world of light and order.
This left the assembled power-holders of every nation squirming in their seats.
People understood well enough, that with both Bryan Watson and Albus Dumbledore—these two universally acknowledged great wizards of their age, both currently stationed together in Britain, the likelihood of war breaking out again there anytime soon remained slim.
This time, it was the German Ministry of Magic that had borne the direct brunt of the calamity instead. Who, then, could confidently say who the next unlucky victim might be, given how thin that particular margin of safety actually was?
Faced with an organisation of dark wizards operating on such a massive scale, most of the world's magical civilisations stood entirely defenceless.
A small handful of nations might possess some meaningful measure of independent self-defence capability, but the realistic possibility of any of them actually defeating such a force alone remained was basically non-existent.
"Vice Chairman Watson—"
Chairman Quahog of the MACUSA was, by this point, no longer remotely half-asleep as he had appeared at the session's opening. His own sharp, focused eyes were fixed steadily on Watson at the podium.
"I believe we all properly understand now, just how fearsome and formidable this Death Eater organisation genuinely is. But you are a wizard widely renowned for working miracles, and moreover, you personally hold a record of victory against the Death Eaters in battle.
So, in your view—how should the world's various magical civilisations properly respond to the profound challenge this thoroughly evil organisation now poses to the normal, established order of our entire world?"
Within the hall, the murmur of unsettled, anxious discussion quickly died down at the question, and tens of individual gazes converged on Bryan's face.
People were desperate to know what wisdom Bryan Watson—a wizard who could rightly be called a genius even in the annals of the world's magical civilization—might have to offer them tonight, in this moment of collective crisis.
"I believe," Bryan said, "there is only one answer."
After a brief silence, Bryan lifted his face fully to meet the expectant, waiting eyes fixed on him from every direction.
His lips moved slightly, and the words he spoke, soft as they genuinely were, set the aged heart in Vipor Dreghorn's chest—one of the seven council members present—pounding hard and sudden, and made his own pale eyes flash with a fresh, unexpected light!
"Unity, and unity alone."
Bryan declared it, and the two simple words rang out through the vast chamber like iron striking stone.
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