The ancient city was merry with activity as Harry walked down the
high street. Since India fell to the east of Mesopotamia, it was nearly
ten in the night when he arrived at the International Portkey Terminal
in the Ministry building. Even though it was quite late, the wizarding
city was still bustling with activity, a phenomenon Harry realised, was
common around the world. Bright lights and massive temples
dominated the layout of Ayodhya, and so did large statues and
sculptures dedicated to ancient Indian witches and wizards, their rich
cultural heritage on display for all to see. Like the recently
constructed New York City, the new headquarters of MACUSA, this
beautiful city too had a Muggle namesake several kilometres away,
with this one being a purely wizarding settlement.
Briefly stopping for dinner, Harry Apparated to his intended
destination – a modest house set on the banks of the Sarayu River
on the outskirts of Ayodhya. An amused smile formed on Harry's face
as he briskly entered the house, the wards having instantly
recognized him. His mentor was sitting in the living room, reading a
book.
"Master, what is it with you and rivers?" Harry couldn't help but
tease. "Each and every house that you and Lady Perenelle own is
set on the banks of a river. Do you love the water that much?"
Nicolas Flamel smiled mysteriously. The room was lit only by the
glow coming from the fireplace.
"I'm afraid Perenelle and I love water as much as we love air,"
Nicolas chuckled. "We can't seem to exist without it! Perhaps you
can cure us of this illness?"
Harry smiled faintly at the poor attempt at humour. Like him, his
master wasn't really good at making people laugh.
"Come. Sit, my chela . And tell me what happened in Bābili."
"The council granted us both the title of Grand Sorcerer, Master,"
Harry said softly.
Nicolas was beaming with pride. "I knew you could do it, Harry," he
said. "I never lost faith in you. Did you speak to the Head
Unspeakable?"
"Yes, Master. Croaker was initially leery about the Asthron , but I
think we managed to make him see things from our point of view. I
brought him into the fold and told him about the prophecy. He didn't
agree to all our demands, but Daphne and Dylan did get into the
Department of Mysteries as high ranking Unspeakables."
"Good, chela ; very good," said Nicolas. He looked at Harry and
hesitated.
Harry picked up on it at once. "What is it, Master?"
"You have completed your training in Alchemy, my child, and have
exceeded my expectations in every way possible. Do you remember
the condition in which I accepted you as my apprentice?"
"That you wouldn't limit my training to Alchemy alone, and that you
will teach me more aspects of magic that you feel is essential for me
to learn."
Nicolas nodded as he scrutinized Harry's expressionless face. "Well,
the time is right for us to begin. Tell me, what do you know about
Divination?"
Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. He paused to gather his
thoughts before answering. "It is an extremely ancient form of
magic," he answered. "It has existed ever since humans realised
they could wield magic outside their bodies – the primitive humans
who were still evolving – and that was a very, very long time ago.
Other magical species have their own versions of Divination, with the
Centaurs universally considered the best in the art."
"Go on. How did Divination help at the end of the ice age?"
"At the end of the ice age, when the sea levels rose rapidly,
Divination was the only source of warning for the population that a
calamity was to strike upon them soon. Seers were able to predict
the destruction of various magical cities and civilizations, and it was
their efforts that led to our species from not becoming extinct. It is for
that reason that Seers are respected and revered to this day. They
are seen as messengers of Mother Magic, and it is a terrible crime to
attack or use a Seer for your own benefit."
"Very good," praised Nicolas. "Now think back to your earliest
lessons in magical history and tell me ... if Seers had indeed warned
various kings and queens about the impending rise in sea levels,
why didn't they heed their warning?"
"They did listen –"
"– not all of them, chela ," Nicolas shook his head. "History has been
muddled, and not many wizards know their true origin. Most of the
wizarding royalty at the time ignored the warnings of Seers. The
common people were divided; some listened to them, while the
others chose to agree with their leaders, sitting contently, not
knowing that nature was slowly ending their great civilizations for
good."
Harry was confused. Where was his master going with this?
"Those ancient civilizations were spread all over the planet. They
were an advanced society, and even without wands, their grasp on
magic was exceptional, much like our civilization today. They were
warned of a disaster, years, and in some cases, even decades in
advance, but they didn't budge. Many witches and wizards left for
safety, but by the time most of the population realised what had
happened, it was too late. Atlantis, for example, a thriving and
powerful magical kingdom thousands of years ago, is at the bottom
of the ocean. Many more kingdoms and empires joined them. These
people were warned ... and yet they chose not to listen to the magic
of Divination. Why do you think this was?"
Harry was silent.
" Think , chela ," Nicolas urged softly. "You can answer this."
"Bad leadership was the cause of their downfall," answered Harry
quietly. "The kings and queens of the era were tasked with the
protection of their people. They were arrogant enough to dismiss the
claims of Seers or perhaps thought they could change the future.
The common witches and wizards didn't want to leave because
they're afraid of change. They all thought they were capable of taking
on the brunt of nature's fury."
"Yes ... and no. It was not nature's fury, Harry. Some things are
meant to happen, whether we like it or not. It is the will of Magic
itself. The planet has a life-cycle. Anyone who can sense the planet's
magical activity can tell you as such. The end of the ice age was
normal. The ancient witches and wizards were just not willing to think
such a calamity was beyond their capabilities. Most of them perished
as a result. Those remaining were the ancestors of the magical
humans we see today. Divination saved the human species from
extinction."
"So you're saying that prophecies always come true?" frowned
Harry. "I really don't believe that, Master. Had Grandfather Alfred not
trained me since the time I was a child, I would have been ignorant
of the existence of the magical world until I was eleven years old. My
father would still be in Azkaban. Dumbledore would have moulded
me into the boy that he wanted me to be. Had that happened,
Voldemort would have won, or at least, the war would have resulted
in the deaths of thousands. My entire life was changed only due to
my magic whisking me away to Potter Castle. How then, would the
prophecy have been fulfilled?"
"Prophesies are not mere ramblings of a drunken woman," Nicolas
chuckled. "Ignorant people will tell you that a prophecy can be
ignored; that not all of them are fulfilled. But you have to realise that
these words are the warnings of Mother Magic herself – through a
Seer. Prophecies always come true, without a doubt, in some form or
the other. Sometimes you may not even realise that it has been
fulfilled. They account for all possibilities. Even had you been a naïve
child under Albus' guidance, I believe you would have still prevailed
in the war against Voldemort. The war may have lasted longer, with
enormous destruction and loss of lives, but you would have won .
The magic of Fate is one of the purest forms of magic there is.
Voldemort lost because he was stupid enough to think he was
superior to Mother Magic, the primordial energy that created the
universe itself. What arrogance! Such a disgusting creature could
never hope to survive."
Harry was silent.
"This new prophecy," continued Nicolas, "was not only foretold by
Sybill Trelawney but was also foreseen by every Seer in the world.
And not all of them are humans. Most of them belong to other
magical species. Why do you think the goblins respect you as much
as they do? Two years ago, when you visited the Veela colony in
France, why do you think the Queen invited you and your wife to her
court? They know the prophecy exists! Not the human one, but the
prophecy they had in their own culture. Your birth and eventual rise
may have been foreseen centuries ago! That belief was maintained
to this day, which is why you see so many magical species
interacting with each other without hostility, a phenomenon you
couldn't hope to see just a decade ago! They recognize you for who
you are, and they're all working towards a single goal – the survival
of magic."
"Who overheard Trelawney's prophecy?" asked Harry curiously.
Nicolas smiled. "She's one of your friends, chela . A very gifted and
wise Seer named Luna Lovegood, the granddaughter of the famed
wandmaker, Garrick Ollivander, who, incidentally, is a Seer himself."
"Ah."
Harry took a deep breath. "So what you're saying is," he said
cautiously, "there is no way a war with the Muggles can be avoided?
That the prophecy will come true, regardless of what Daphne, Dylan
and I are trying to do to prevent exposure?"
"That is my belief," Nicolas said softly. "But I'm not a Seer. I honestly
didn't fully understand the prophecy myself. Your friend, Luna, might
be able to explain it to you better. You might want to ask her.
However, I can certainly confirm that you do have allies. Allies that
were thought to have disappeared a long time ago."
Harry's curiosity was piqued.
Nicolas took a deep breath. "But before I do, I have a confession to
make."
A faint smirk appeared on Harry's lips as he spoke, "You and Lady
Perenelle are not human. Is that it?"
The shock on the face of his master confirmed it. Nicolas Flamel was
dumbfounded as he stared at his apprentice, his eyes wide with
disbelief.
"H-How did you know?" he exclaimed.
"I suspected it ever since our first meeting, Master. Your aura was
way off as compared to any other wizard. It was like nothing I had
ever witnessed before. I never questioned you, but I did confide the
matter with my wife. Daphne is a lot better at sensing magic than I
am. The moment she met you and Lady Perenelle six years ago in
Inbu-Hedj, she realised that you both are masquerading as humans."
"Amazing," Nicolas muttered to himself.
"The next clue you gave us was when you started calling me your
chela . We spent years looking for any clue that would identify which
language the word originated from. Finally, we stumbled upon a very
old manuscript in the ruins of an ancient wizarding settlement in
Magical India that explained the meaning of the word to us –
apprentice; disciple. Daphne spent more time analysing the
language, trying to understand where it came from."
Harry looked at his master shrewdly. "She believes you and Lady
Perenelle are High-Elves. Is she wrong?"
Nicolas couldn't help but laugh. "It is rare to find such beauty and
intelligence in one person, Harry. You are certainly lucky to have her
as your partner in destiny."
The younger man simply smiled.
"Daphne was correct. Perenelle are I are Elves."
" Elves? " asked Harry in surprise. "Not High-Elves?"
"The prefix was added in recent centuries by wizards. There is no
such thing as High-Elves or Wood Elves or House Elves. There is
only one species – Elves."
This was certainly an eye-opener. Harry was dazed. "But the houseelves
–" he protested, but was interrupted.
"– are a lot different and weaker than us," explained Nicolas. "That is
not a story I can tell you. I'm sure, in time, the Queen of the Elves
shall explain to you in detail about the house-elves, and why the
Elves and humans – magical humans – have traditionally been
allies, and why the Elves disappeared into obscurity thousands of
years ago."
Harry simply sat, pondering about the latest development. "Then the
Philosopher's Stone," he said slowly.
"Is a fake," laughed Nicolas. "Nothing in the world can make one
truly immortal. Voldemort, for all his so-called advanced knowledge
of the Dark Arts, never realised that even Horcruxes have a specified
time before the soul withers into nothingness. The laws of magic
cannot be broken. I always thought he was an idiot for believing
himself to be truly immortal. He may have lived longer than any other
wizard. Perhaps another hundred years or so … but he would have
still died at some point. Horcruxes prevent one's death should they
be attacked, but it wouldn't prevent your death should you die
naturally. If Horcruxes could grant true immortality, then why is Herpo
the Foul still not alive today? If Horcruxes were the only solution to
complete immortality as Voldemort believed, we would have
immortal wizards everywhere. All you have to do is kill ... assassins
and bounty hunters will be the first to attempt the ritual.
Unfortunately, it's not that simple."
The green eyes belonging to the Boy-Who-Lived narrowed in
calculation. The Deathly Hallows were not made by mere mortals.
The voice in the back of his mind whispered to him again. The laws
of magic that Nicolas spoke of didn't seem to apply to him, Daphne
and Dylan.
"As for Perenelle and I, we are merely agents of the Queen. We
were tasked to masquerade as wizards and live in their society – all
for one purpose. Wait for you to be born and assist you in your
destiny."
"You waited for seven hundred years?!"
"When the existence of magic is threatened, seven hundred years is
a short time. Besides, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel are not our true
names. They are only titles given to those Elves who live like us. In
fact, we are the third generation of Flamels. The first Flamel couple
set up everything necessary to interact with the wizarding society.
The second couple rose to fame after spreading rumours about the
Philosopher's Stone. Thanks to the work done by Perenelle Flamel I,
it worked wonders. We are Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel III."
Harry exhaled. It was a lot to take in. He felt a gentle hand on his
shoulder. He also sensed a shimmer of magic as his master's
elaborate Elvin glamour was unravelled. Dark-blue skin with large,
pointed ears, orange eyes and sharp nails appeared on his body.
"I understand that all this is stressful, young one," Nicolas said
gently. "But we still have time to prepare. Perenelle has been
interacting with several magical species for years, waiting for the
right time to introduce you to them. You do not have to worry about
that. Right now, all I want you to do is focus on becoming the leader
of the wizarding community. The rest will fall into place once you are
the Supreme Mugwump. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, Master," Harry nodded. He hesitated. "Six years ago, you
promised that you will not manipulate me and that even if you
withheld information, you would reveal it to me at the right time.
Thank you for not going back on your word. I'm honoured to be your
chela ."
Nicolas smiled, his orange eyes suspiciously moist as he patted
Harry's head.
Potter Castle
Astoria Lestrange gasped and moaned as she wrapped her arms
and legs around her husband. Her grip on him was so tight that her
nails dug into his flesh, drawing blood. Not that Dylan cared. He
continued to pleasure his wife as he thrust his thick cock in and out
of her vagina, making passionate love to her.
After they achieved orgasm, with Dylan spilling his seed deep inside
her, he finally collapsed next to his wife, breathing heavily. Their
naked bodies glistened with sweat and magic. Astoria was gasping
for breath, riding out the after-effects of the latest orgasm. Her left
leg was still twitching as Dylan's flaccid penis slipped out of her
spent vaginal opening.
"How," she gasped, "how do you have the strength to do that over
and over again? And how in the world are you so good at it?"
A hint of a smirk formed on Dylan's face, his mischievous eyes
twinkling, but he didn't answer her. Instead, he kissed her softly,
enjoying the tender moments he was able to spend with his wife.
He had still not told her about the Deathly Hallows. Harry and
Daphne had urged him to confess to Astoria, but Dylan had decided
not to. It would only bring unending pain to her, and there was
nothing anybody could do about it.
Truthfully, Dylan didn't want to think about it either.
Successful marriages were formed when partners were honest with
each other, true, but there were some secrets that were still too big
for a marriage to handle.
And this was one such secret.
They simply lay in each other's arms, enjoying their post-coital bliss.
Astoria kept looking at him, gently running her fingers through his
slightly curly hair with one hand while occasionally fondling his balls
with the other. As she did so, the young woman couldn't help but
reflect on her marriage to Dylan Lestrange.
Their relationship had not been easy over the past six years. Like
Harry and Daphne, they too had several problems and obstacles
they had to overcome. Unfortunately, they also had to deal with the
pain of separation at the age of sixteen, when Dylan went to Siberia
to attend the academy. Astoria was brought out of her thoughts when
she felt her husband gently squeeze her hand.
"I still can't believe you agreed to marry me," Dylan said softly.
Astoria smiled, intertwining her fingers with his. "I married you
because I love you," she confessed.
"Then why did you –"
"Why did I reject your proposal the first time around?"
Dylan nodded hesitantly. That was an incident no one knew about.
Not even Harry and Daphne. He had proposed to Astoria four years
ago, when they were eighteen. She had rejected him, and he had
never understood why that was. Their relationship had been tense
for months after the incident and Dylan honestly thought there was
no future for them. But slowly, over time, they were able to make
their relationship work again, and just six months ago, the couple
had gotten married.
"I rejected your proposal because I didn't know if I truly belonged in
your life," answered Astoria truthfully.
There was a pause. " What? " Dylan exclaimed loudly. "Astoria, I've
loved you for years! Why would you ever doubt that?"
"I never doubted your love for me, Dylan. But at the time, I was still
not ready to accept the truth, even if it had been in front of my face
since the beginning. As I grew older, I accepted reality for what it
was. I decided to live in the present and enjoy the moment instead of
thinking too much about something that is beyond my control."
"Tori, you're not making any sense."
Astoria smiled, though there was a hint of sadness to it. "What I
meant was, at the time, I couldn't handle the fact that I'm not the
most important person in your life."
"Astoria, you are the –"
She placed her finger to his lips, interrupting him. "You don't have to
say that, Dylan," she said softly. "No matter what you claim to me
otherwise, Harry and Daphne are – and will always be – the most
important people in your life. And I'm almost positive they feel the
same way about you. Sometimes they act like you're more important
to them than their own children. It's very subtle, but I've observed it –
in all three of you."
He was speechless, his eyes wide with shock. What could he
possibly say to that?
"The truth was clear as day, but I didn't want to accept it." Astoria
gently cupped his face, looking at him lovingly. "Four years ago, I
was mad at you. I was also mad at my sister and brother-in-law
because I knew that they meant more to you than anyone in the
world. Your actions portray that. If someone asked you to circle the
entire universe, you'd probably just point at them and say they're
you're whole world. It is not just sibling loyalty. It's much more than
that. But I've come to accept it because I love you, and I can't
imagine living my life without you, just like you can't exist without
them in your life. But I realised that it doesn't matter. Harry and
Daphne have been through a lot. They have suffered, and so have
you. How can I bring myself to cause you any more pain?"
"Astoria, I never meant to make you unhappy," Dylan croaked out.
"Dylan, it's not your fault. That's just who you are. Trust me, I couldn't
have asked for a better husband than you. No offence to my sister,
but I'm very glad that you're not like Harry. I'm blessed to be married
to a man who is one of the most romantic, passionate and
considerate lovers that nature has ever produced. You do make me
happy and I know that you love me unconditionally. What more could
I ask for?"
His grey eyes glistened with tears as Astoria buried her face in his
muscular chest, breathing softly as she went to sleep. Dylan hugged
her tightly as tears fell from his eyes and into her soft brown hair.
"You're right, Astoria," he admitted softly. "But you're truly a great
woman for marrying me despite knowing that. You may not be with
me until the very end, for I don't know how long I will live, but I
promise you, I will cherish you, keep you happy and make all your
dreams come true to the best of my ability. I love you."
Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, nuzzling her face
affectionately, Dylan too drifted off to sleep. A hint of a smile formed
on Astoria's face as she wrapped a leg around her husband.
The Floo in the entrance hall burst into green flames as Harry
stepped out. Yawning, he slowly walked up the marble stairs and to
the second floor. He paused outside Dylan and Astoria's room. He
could sense his brother's turmoil through their bond, but he knew
that he couldn't disturb the couple. Moving forward, he opened the
door of his oldest son's bedroom, frowning when he saw that Charlie
wasn't there. The next two rooms were also empty.
Harry rolled his eyes in fond exasperation when he found all three of
his children sprawled across his bed, pestering their mother to once
again tell the story of how their parents got married.
A story that was probably the most boring one in existence, but since
the children loved it, Harry had to bear with it. When she realised
that her husband was home, Daphne's eyes twinkled with mischief.
"– and then we got married here, at the castle."
Belladonna crinkled her nose. "That's it?" she cried in frustration.
"Daddy is not romantic at all! "
Daphne couldn't help but laugh, staring at her husband who looked
mock-offended. "I guess you're right," she teased. "What was I
thinking, getting married to a man who doesn't even know the
meaning of the word romantic?"
"So that's how it's going to be, huh? My family is making fun of me
when I'm away!"
"Daddy!" exclaimed Charlie. Harry caught him just in time as the boy
jumped into his father's arms. "You'll never guess what happened
today!"
"We caught a thief!" James grinned, jumping on the bed excitedly.
"Not one, but two!" Belladonna said, looking very pleased with
herself.
Harry simply raised an eyebrow at his wife. Daphne sighed, shaking
her head. Now was not the time to chastise them. The two of them
would have to speak to them later so that such incidents wouldn't
happen again. A soft conversation could accomplish more than
yelling, especially for kids their age.
For one hour, Harry listened as his children excitedly recited the
story about what happened at the hotel in Bābili. Finally, Charlie
frowned.
"You should smile more, Daddy," he said. "See? Mum does it!"
Harry burst out laughing as he hugged the boy closer. "No one has
ever dared to say that to my face," he chuckled. "Look, Daphne!
After twenty-five years, I'm being told to smile by my children who
won't take no for an answer!"
"See?" Belladonna said, pinching her father's cheek. "You look so
cute when you smile, Daddy! Now I want you to smile all the time,
okay?"
"I'll try, princess," Harry said, kissing her forehead affectionately.
"Now come on. It's past your bedtime."
The twins whined, but James nodded sleepily. Grumbling, Charlie
and Belladonna went to their rooms. After ensuring that they were
tucked in bed, Harry returned, only to find James refusing to leave.
"I don't wanna sleep alone," he whined.
Harry chuckled and slipped into bed. "Oh, Jamie … what are you
going to do once you go to Hogwarts?"
James huffed as he sat on his father's stomach, folding his small
arms across his chest. "I'm never going to Hogwarts!" he declared.
"Why not?" exclaimed Daphne in surprise. "Don't you want to enjoy
your teenage years at school?"
The five-year-old boy shook his head. "Uh-uh! If I go to Hogwarts,
then I'll have to leave you! And I'll never leave you and Daddy. I'll be
with you forever and ever!"
A shadow passed over Harry and Daphne's faces, but it was gone
before James could see it.
Harry lightly tapped the tip of his son's nose. "We still have six years
for that, don't we?" he said softly, kissing James' hand. "We can
make a decision then. Jamie, you're burning up!"
"He has a fever," Daphne yawned. "Don't worry. I've given him the
potion. He'll be fine by tomorrow morning."
James squealed with delight as his father levitated him, gently
floating him in between the couple. Quite exhausted, the little boy
cuddled up to his mother and was off like a light within a minute.
"What is it?" whispered Daphne, having picked up on it immediately
as she gently rocked her son.
"You were right about Master Nicolas," Harry answered softly. "He
and Lady Perenelle are Elves."
He spent the next several minutes briefing her about what his master
had told him. Daphne didn't look surprised.
"You might want to talk to Luna as soon as possible," she advised.
"The more we know, the better we can prepare."
Harry nodded. "I need to talk to Astoria too. She knows more about
magical law and regulations than any of us. I'll certainly need her
help in order to amend the International Statute of Secrecy."
Daphne hummed. "Good night, Harry," she said softly, hugging
James closer. Harry smiled, kissed his son's head affectionately as
his eyes drifted shut too.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Nesebar, capital of the magical province of Bulgaria
Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum threw the newspaper down in disgust
as he read the headlines.
HARRY AND DAPHNE POTTER AWARDED THE TITLE OF
GRAND SORCERER
Of all the people in the world, why them? Why couldn't the Sorcerer's
Council have simply laughed in Potter's face when he showed up?
Krum's blood boiled as he saw the smiling face of Harry Potter that
was on the front page of the newspaper.
With an angry flick of his wand, the newspaper burst into flames.
Krum took deep breaths to calm himself. His opulent surroundings
still looked too alien to him. The previous building that housed the
headquarters of the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic had been shifted
here, a new city that was a purely wizarding settlement. It disgusted
Krum that he had been unable to stop it. The poison inflicted by
Potter's words and fame had seeped far and wide.
The mirror on his desk vibrated, and his secretary's face appeared
on the screen.
"Sir, Miss Hermione Granger is here to see you."
Krum nodded. "Show her in."
Less than a minute later, twenty-five-year-old Hermione Granger
entered the room, smiling at the leader of the international magical
community whom she had met several times over the years due to
her line of work. She respected Ivan Krum a great deal, and the
Supreme Mugwump was also quite fond of her.
"Thank you for seeing me, Your Excellency," she said. "I hope I didn't
disturb you."
"Not at all, Hermione," Krum shook his head. "Please take a seat.
What can I do for you?"
Hermione sighed. "I'm afraid I'm here for the same reason as last
time. The I.C.W.'s latest trade bill is causing unrest in our
Wizengamot. Apparently, they feel that trading with the Muggles will
be a violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. I was sent here
to tell you that Britain will be voting against it."
Krum snorted. "That's nothing unexpected." He surveyed her
critically. "So, they've finally given you the promotion that you
rightfully deserve."
The young brunette flushed with pleasure at that. "Yes, Your
Excellency," Hermione glowed happily. "I'm now the deputy head of
the Department of International Magical Cooperation."
"I'm happy for you, Hermione. You are perhaps the brightest witch of
your generation. I'm sure you'll scale new heights and one day,
perhaps, even become the Minister of Magic."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me."
Krum nodded slowly. "Tell me, Hermione … what do you think of the
Free Trade Bill that is tabled before the Confederation?"
"I think it's a very wise move, Your Excellency," Hermione said
fervently. "With those ridiculous trade restrictions repealed, wizards
can freely trade with Muggles without those outrageous taxes they
would otherwise have to pay on such income. How they even put
such a restriction is beyond me! Why did the Confederation agree to
it at all?"
A low chuckle escaped Krum's lips. "People fear what they don't
understand, my dear child. That is true for both wizards as well as
Muggles. The Statute of Secrecy was enacted more than three
hundred years ago … Muggles have since evolved. I can see it, but
my colleagues don't. Ever since I was elected, I've been doing my
best to reduce the tensions between our two worlds, just like my
predecessor had done."
"Professor Dumbledore?" asked Hermione eagerly.
"Yes," Krum sighed. "He was my mentor. I met him shortly after my
family had been slaughtered by Gellert Grindelwald, and it was with
his help that I was able to rise to the seat of Supreme Mugwump."
Hermione hesitated. "Your Excellency, I don't mean to pry, but why
did Grindelwald target your family? During the Triwizard Tournament,
your nephew, Viktor, confessed to me that his grandparents had
been murdered, but he never told me why."
A dark look appeared on Ivan Krum's face. "Grindelwald was, in
many ways, not unlike Voldemort. He too craved power, only he was
far more influential that Voldemort could have ever hoped to be. He
amassed a huge army, mostly by promising people power and
manipulating them from the shadows. My father was a powerful man
in Bulgaria, and he was the only thing that stopped Grindelwald from
conquering this country. Grindelwald murdered my parents, and five
years later, murdered my wife and child."
"I've heard that … that your wife was a Muggle."
Krum smiled. "Yes," he said softly. "A wonderful woman, she was. I
was blessed to have met her. We were married for six years, and our
daughter was only four when Grindelwald killed them – to show his
might and thus dominate our magical government. He hated
Muggles, you see. He wanted a war between wizards and Muggles
in order to subjugate everyone, with him as the supreme leader. If
not for Professor Dumbledore, we might still be under his oppressive
rule."
Hermione smiled. "Professor Dumbledore was truly a great wizard."
"That he was. Unfortunately, there are those who would do anything
to destroy the reputation of such a noble soul."
"Your Excellency, are you referring to Harry Potter?"
Krum growled in anger. "That boy has caused innumerable
problems! In the past six years, he has destabilized everything that
Dumbledore tried to accomplish. Look at your surroundings,
Hermione! Where are we? A new city … a city with absolutely no
wizard-Muggle interaction at all. Give it a few months, and you'll see
the same everywhere in the world. This whole idea sickens me!"
"Then why didn't you stop it, sir?"
"It does not fall under the purview of the I.C.W.," Krum said bitterly.
"Only the regional magical governments can take such decisions. I
tried to stop it, but no one listened to me. An enlightened idea it was,
they said. Harry and Daphne Potter are revolutionaries, they said.
Hippogriff shit! Such actions will cause nothing but further divide
between the Muggle and magical worlds. With those two now
awarded the title of Grand Sorcerer, the biggest achievement that
can ever be officially recognised, they'll be unstoppable."
"Potter has always been a pureblood bigot," Hermione sighed. "I
should know. I went to school with him."
Krum laughed. "Oh, he's not a pureblood bigot, Hermione. Bloodpurity,
a problem that was mostly restricted to Magical Europe, is
very quickly fading away, to be replaced by the theme of 'magic is
might.' Isn't that message displayed outside the Ministry building in
Camelot?"
Hermione grimaced.
"This is how Dark Lords began their journey," spat Krum. "They
slowly rise to power, seeking support everywhere, appearing as
though they want to protect their people, and by the time you realise
that he is a Dark Lord, your greatest enemy, they would have already
sunk their venomous teeth into the government. You'll be left
helpless. This is how Grindelwald and Voldemort took over. And
soon, the same will happen again, this time with Harry Potter."
Hermione was aghast. "Your Excellency, surely you are
exaggerating!" she cried. "Potter is a bigot, yes, but – but – a Dark
Lord? I really don't think –"
"Why not?" snapped Krum. "Let's scrutinise his personality and
actions, shall we? He's a known Muggle hater. Professor
Dumbledore told me this when the boy was just eleven years old.
He's the Lord of the Peverell Clan, the richest family in the world. His
adopted father is the British Minister of Magic, and his mother, the
head of the British D.M.L.E. He's the Boy-Who-Lived, the only known
survivor of the Killing Curse. At the age of sixteen, he defeated Lord
Voldemort, one of the most feared Dark Lords in recent centuries,
second only to Gellert Grindelwald, and rose to fame because of it. It
was him who orchestrated the construction of Camelot and put the
idea into Sirius Black's head. It was him who convinced everyone
else to do the same, and it was thanks to his efforts that there is no
wizarding settlement in Muggle areas anywhere in the world today."
"He walked into an I.C.W. emergency meeting as though he owned
the place, and insulted me in front of the entire Confederation. He
has the ear of the global Head Unspeakable himself. Potter has
spent the last six years interacting with several politicians from
around the world. He knows them personally and has earned the
respect of each and every one of them. Even the ones who hate him
wouldn't dare challenge him, for they are absolutely terrified of his
powers. And that fear is not unfounded. Do you even know how
many times his political enemies from different parts of the world
have tried to assassinate him over the past six years, when they
sensed Potter's influence rising and their own political block
dwindling? Seventeen! And he has survived each and every
encounter, with each of those deadly assassins killed! There is no
denying it, for I have felt it myself – he is ridiculously powerful. His
political growth has not been sudden, Hermione. It's been gradual.
Potter has been working on it for years! "
"His adopted brother, Dylan Lestrange, is considered by many, albeit
secretly, as one of the most powerful and talented duellists of our
time. His wife, Daphne Potter, is a master in the field of Enchanting.
Both of them, very recently, were inducted as Unspeakables. Even
as the Supreme Mugwump, I was unable to stop it. Do you know
why? Lestrange is a graduate of a school run by the Unspeakables.
He's so cunning that he entered into a magically binding contract
with the I.C.W. In essence, we can't get rid of him. Daphne Potter,"
Krum snorted, "is a Grand Sorcerer. People will laugh in my face
should I even think of booting her from the department. My sources
have told me that Potter will be joining the Wizengamot tomorrow.
Mark my words; he will be elected as the Chief Warlock by the end of
the week. If he doesn't make himself the head of the British
delegation to the I.C.W., then I'll eat my own hand!"
Hermione was stunned.
"Tell me … where does all this lead to? When does it culminate?
What are his motives? A powerful wizard who hates Muggles,
destroys those who stand in his way, and is seizing power globally …
who does that remind you of?"
"Gellert Grindelwald," breathed out Hermione.
"Exactly," Krum chuckled darkly. "I am the Supreme Mugwump, the
chosen leader of the entire international magical community. It is my
duty to protect them from the wrath of Dark Lords who seek to
destroy the world. I swear in the name of Albus Dumbledore, I will do
everything in my power to ensure that Harry Potter will never achieve
his goals!"
Hermione took deep, shaky breaths so as to calm down. Never had
she realised the danger posed to them by Harry Potter. Ivan Krum
was truly brilliant to have figured all this out. So, it was without any
hesitation that she said, "I am with you, Your Excellency. I promise to
help you in any way I can."
"I knew I could count on you, my dear child," Krum said, his eyes soft
with fatherly affection. He leaned forward. "I'll take care of a few
things from my end, but this is what I want you to do."
Hermione listened attentively.