Chapter 119: Penelope's Unease
As it turned out, Ryan was not particularly skilled at digging traps for people. After racking his clever little brain to no avail, he turned his pleading gaze back to the Headmaster. After all, the Headmaster was an old fox, cunning and farsighted; surely he had a good plan.
Is Ryan being a bit too extreme? Dumbledore wondered. Why is his mind so fixated on taking Fudge down, instead of trying other methods?
Can't he just use the Imperius Curse?
To ignore such a convenient and efficient solution in favor of a convoluted scheme to ruin a man's reputation, potentially causing social and political instability, was just so illogical.
Concluding that the young man was still too young, his experience too narrow, and his thinking too rigid, Dumbledore didn't elaborate. He simply told Ryan he would handle the matter. Dumbledore made a mental note to find some time for Gellert to teach Ryan a thing or two, to help broaden his horizons. He couldn't have him being so inflexible the next time a similar situation arose.
This whole affair made it clear that Ryan was far too law-abiding. The logical approach was to first use the Imperius Curse. Then, when the time was right—say, a crisis concerning the Statute of Secrecy occurred—they could orchestrate Fudge's downfall, let him dominate the headlines, and use the scandal to manage public opinion.
Now that, Dumbledore thought, is the proper way to use a Cornelius Fudge.
Ryan hadn't considered things on such a deep level. Seeing Dumbledore take full responsibility, he relaxed. "As long as you have a plan, Headmaster. Now, what should we do about Voldemort?"
There was no question about what to do with Voldemort in the grand sense. They had to announce it to the world, telling both Britain and the global magical community that a legendary wizard had been captured alive by the staff and students of Hogwarts. It would be a massive boost to their reputation and set the stage for the next phase: "Wizards of the World, Unite."
But the real heart of his question was how they could put Voldemort's power to their own use.
The most obvious application was research. Right now, the two men in the Headmaster's office were likely contemplating some less-than-humane experiments, such as separating slices of his soul to study their properties or conducting soul transference trials. But Voldemort had countless potential uses; research like that would tap less than one percent of his potential.
"We will need to find Voldemort's connections and weaknesses before we can decide that," Dumbledore said. He, too, liked the idea of having a pet Voldemort on a leash to sic on his enemies, but first, they needed to find a leash strong enough to hold him.
"For now, our next step should be to announce this good news to the wizarding world. Why don't we start with a feast here at the school?" Dumbledore suggested.
"Of course, I agree," Ryan replied.
"Not only that, Albus," Professor McGonagall said, emerging from the Hospital Wing and overhearing their conversation. "We must use the feast to recognize those who made significant contributions during this incident."
The three of them discussed the matter. It was mostly the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress talking, while the acting Defense Against the Dark Arts professor standing beside them could only nod in agreement.
"A school feast tonight—"
"—and attendance is mandatory for all students and staff?"
The news spread like wildfire, and students began chattering amongst themselves. Some used their Communicators to ask friends what the sudden feast could possibly mean.
Elsewhere, Doro was happily painting graffiti on a wall, held aloft by Neville and Hannah. She was covering up the scratches left behind from when she, riding her little wolf construct, had leaped into the air and brought her spear down in a devastating overhead strike that had shattered an enchanted statue.
"Penelope, did you see anything at the Tower of Wonders today?" Doro asked, spotting a witch hurrying past.
"The Tower of Wonders?" Penelope almost didn't react. The question came out before she remembered it was the excuse she had used for her absence. "Oh. Yeah, it was fine. The usual," she said vaguely, then quickly changed the subject. "What happened here at the castle? Are you painting graffiti?"
"Mhm," Doro nodded. "There were some bad guys, but Doro beat them. Now everyone is fixing the castle."
"So it's over..." Penelope murmured. "Do you know where Ryan is?"
"Ryan? I heard someone say he went to the Hospital Wing."
"He's hurt?!" Penelope's voice shot up in alarm.
Doro held up her wrist, showing off a small watch—a custom-made little Doro phone watch from Ryan. "I just asked him. He said he's fine. He's with the Headmaster and the other teachers, helping with the injured."
"Hey, don't run so fast! Watch your step!" Doro called out as Penelope turned and sprinted away, her expression one of grim determination.
"What's the big hurry? She should stay and paint with me," Doro muttered, pulling out an orange and peeling it. "Anyway, Neville, Hannah, what color do you think this part should be?"
"Blue, I think," Neville said.
"I think red would look better," Hannah countered.
"Alright then, red it is," Neville conceded instantly.
A joyful atmosphere filled the castle, but Penelope didn't notice. She sprinted down the corridors, heading straight for the Hospital Wing. As she rounded a corner, she saw Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Ryan standing together, deep in discussion. None of them looked injured.
So, nothing serious happened, she realized, relieved. She composed herself and walked purposefully toward them.
"Penelope, you're back. How was your day trip to the Ministry?" Ryan, who was struggling to get a word in with the professors, saw her approaching and broke away from the group to greet her.
"It was quite an experience," Penelope said with a small smile. "It was the first time I realized those 'pure-blood lords' who usually look down their noses at students could be so... obsequious. Wearing your face, I finally understood just how big your reputation in the wizarding world has become."
"They're just dead wood, unable to see the changing tides. Headmaster Dumbledore only humors them for the sake of stability," Ryan said, his opinion of most pure-blood families low. He didn't deny that many of them were clever, skilled at maneuvering within the existing system to gain power. Nor did he deny that the magical grimoires passed down through their families gave their children a significant advantage in learning advanced magic. But sadly, their minds were trapped by pure-blood ideology. They refused to even look at the wider wizarding world, let alone open their eyes to the Muggle one.
"'The changing tides'... Ryan, can we really win?" Penelope asked, her voice laced with an anxiety she only ever showed him. She could feel that his plans to reform the wizarding world were already in motion, and it made her uneasy. In public, she was his staunchest supporter, but in private, she had to ask.
Her anxiety stemmed from what she had learned from Professor Flitwick about Muggle weaponry—specifically, his research into magically constructing the equations for nuclear fission. The more she understood, the more she felt it was hopeless. They couldn't win. They simply couldn't.
Ryan calmly outlined his strategy. "'Winning hearts and minds is better than winning battles.' First, we need to select our mouthpieces among the Muggles to stir the pot and ensure they can never reach a unified consensus that wizards are a threat. Ideally, we get our agents into positions of power within their governments. Then, we demonstrate our own advantages with a show of force against the most powerful nation on the planet. After that, we can begin to establish diplomatic relations with other countries—"
As for taking a nuke to the face, no wizard could do that. Not even a legendary one. To survive that, you wouldn't be a wizard; you'd be a God of Earth. Ryan knew that Penelope was overawed by the power of nuclear weapons, so much so that she was forgetting the most important fact: weapons are always wielded by people.
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