Ultimatum

Ultimatum

By Aerie22

The Minister of Magic was not having a good month.

First, he was summoned to the Ministry after hours only to be confronted by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named battling Dumbledore and the Potter boy. The resultant publicity forced him to admit he was wrong in denying the Dark Lord's rise and effectively insulating the Headmaster and The Boy Who Lived from any criticism.

Now this. For the third time in three weeks a small Muggle town had been attacked. Two dozen Muggles had been killed and seven had been reported missing. That put the Muggle death toll for the month at 52, with another 15 gone missing. And even worse, three Aurors responding to the attacks had been killed and five wounded. Further, the Oblivators were near exhaustion.

Fudge had his head in his hands, fretting about what this new incident would do to his popularity, which had plummeted in recent weeks, when his assistant, Percy Weasley, burst into his office.

"Not now, Weasley!" Fudge snapped.

Percy paused uncertainly, then proceeded forward. "Sir, this is urgent. Some Muggles showed up at the Ministry entrance and demanded this be delivered immediately."

Fudge looked up at his assistant with wary eyes. "Muggles, you say?"

Percy nodded. "They knew the codes at the telly-phone kiosk and gained entrance to the building," he squeaked. "They didn't try to gain entrance past the guard station, but insisted someone take their message directly to you. They said it was of grave importance."

Fudge took the letter, which was addressed simply to "Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic," and slit open the heavy buff-colored envelope. Inside was a single page letter. Fudge glanced at it, his eyes opening in shock.

Minister Cornelius Fudge,

Her majesty's government requires your presence at 10:00 am, tomorrow, at Thames House. A car will be waiting at the entranceway to your Ministry at 9:00 am. The future of your world is at stake. Do not be late.

Holcroft Chase

Home Office

Fudge blinked, then lowered his face into his hands. "Get Dumbledore. And get Bones," he mumbled.

* * *

As Fudge, Dumbledore and Bones stepped out of the secret phone booth at the Muggle-side entrance, they saw three full-sized, but otherwise nondescript black sedans waiting for them. Two men in gray suits ushered them into the middle vehicle without a word and the cars took off.

The drive was quiet and mercifully brief, despite the traffic. Soon, they passed the Lambeth Bridge and pulled up before one of two large brick buildings on the Thames. The three were ushered in and to the lift to the third floor, where they were escorted down a long corridor, to an anteroom.

"Wands please," said a burly looking man in a tweed suit.

Fudge and Bones looked outraged, but Dumbledore merely nodded and the three presented their wands.

They were then brought into a modest sized office overlooking the Thames. A medium-sized man with graying brown hair and an intense expression nodded and waved them into three chairs in front of a large oak desk. "Minister Fudge, Headmaster Dumbledore, Madame Bones, my name is Holcroft Chase. Welcome to MI5."

* * *

Chase simply sat down and, templing his fingers to his lips, stared at the trio for a few moments. Fudge had a nonplussed expression, while Bones was visibly nervous. Dumbledore, however, seemed at ease. "You've moved since the last time I visited the Security Service," he said in a conversational tone.

Chase simply nodded. "Last year."

The silence lasted a few more moments before Chase reached for a thick file at the side of his desk. He them looked up at the trio. "In the last three weeks, there have been a series of terrorist attacks against our people. Eleven people were murdered at Taine's Grove, Kent on June 30. Seventeen people were murdered and nine gone missing at Clouton, Lincolnshire on July 6. And 25 were murdered and five gone missing at Perth's Landing, Wessex, four days ago."

Bones looked up. "Not 24?"

Dumbledore winced at Bones's tacit admission of knowledge of the crimes, but Chase sighed. "Last night, an elderly woman succumbed to burns suffered in the attack."

Again, Chase paused. Finally, he took a deep breath. "We have tolerated your world for generations," he said quietly. "We have let you govern and police yourselves. We have not taxed you and simply presented your Ministry with bills for the costs of any extraordinary services we have been required to supply from time to time." He then shifted his eyes back and forth at the trio. "In return, we have expected that you would keep your world secret. And we expected that any problems you may have with your world not spill over into ours. We even tolerated the occasional exceptional incident, such as the one with your Sirius Black."

"Sirius Black was innocent," Dumbledore said quietly.

Fudge's head jerked up and he glared at Dumbledore. Bones, however, nodded sadly.

Chase's face clouded. "Innocent? So the real killer is still out there? And we were not informed?" he said in an annoyed tone.

"Black is still on the run, but we have leads," Fudge said anxiously.

Dumbledore closed his eyes in resignation. "Sirius Black is dead. He was sent to prison without a trial. The real killer was Peter Pettigrew, who remains free."

Bones stared at the Headmaster. "Pettigrew? Alive?"

Fudge scowled. "We will catch Black and administer the kiss!"

Chase sighed in resignation. "It is apparent, that you in the Wizarding World cannot keep the peace. And it is apparent from everything we've read and seen that you are unwilling or incapable of keeping your problems from spilling over into our world."

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "We are now all working to contain the problem. We have plans and steps are being taken ..."

Chase shook his head. "Headmaster, just as I am sure you have people who monitor our world, we have people who monitor yours. Over the past year or so, it has become increasingly clear that you have no ability to govern yourselves. That is not our concern. However, when your problems and conflicts affect into our world, harming and killing our citizens, we will no longer sit back and refrain from action."

Dumbledore frowned, but Fudge and Bones looking at Chase with growing horror. "I assure you, Mr. Chase ..." Dumbledore began, but was quickly cut off as Chase slammed his hand down on his desk.

"We will not tolerate the killing of our citizens! You apparently cannot control the persons responsible for the deaths of 55 of our citizens and the disappearances and presumed deaths of 14 others."

"You have no proof ..." Fudge blustered.

Chase sighed. "Your Obliviators missed several eyewitnesses to each attack. Further, there were security cameras set up in several commercial establishments that caught numerous witches and wizards in black cloaks and masks casting killing curses at patrons. Do you really believe we are that stupid, Mr. Fudge? Or you, Madam Bones? Or you Headmaster?"

Dumbledore seemed to shrink in his chair. "What would you have us do?"

"You will turn over all evidence and leads relating to this ... Voldemort and his gang. You will tell us where he and his operatives are based. You will provide the names of all such operatives and supporters. And you will not interfere with our operations against this monster."

Fudge glared at Chase. "And if we refuse?"

Chase stared intently at the Minister of Magic. "The Diagon Alley area is on the books as part of the National Trust. As is your Hogsmeade. Hogwarts. The Wizarding areas around Sheffield, Liverpool, Portsmouth, and Glasgow. Azkaban Island. The large Wizarding estates in Essex, Kent, Wales and the Midlands. All will be confiscated and disposed of in the Muggle way. The land in Central London occupied by Diagon Alley alone should be worth several hundred million pounds to developers. And don't think your wards can stop us. You have your ways, but we have ours. And we will act. It will be the end of an effective Wizarding world on the British Isles, Mr. Fudge. That will be your legacy. If, that is, you fail to cooperate."

Fudge paled. "But we don't know where ..."

Dumbledore lowered his head. "Voldemort's lair is heavily warded against magical intrusion and discovery," he said thoughtfully. "But there is one person who might know."

Chase turned his intense look to the Headmaster. "Who?"

"Harry Potter."

* * *

Petunia Dursley frowned as the large Black limousine pulled up in front of No. 4 Privet Drive. She'd seen at least four other such cars pass by in the last 15 minutes. She didn't know what that freak of a nephew was up to, and the man on the telephone didn't explain. Perhaps the authorities were finally coming for him to put him away.

"They're here!" she shrieked. Then she opened the door to see the boy's Headmaster, dressed in a Muggle suit, flanked by two ominous looking men. She caught a glimpse of a gun under the jacket of one of the men and almost fainted.

"Come, Harry," Dumbledore said in a reassuring voice. "We are going to London. Muggle London."

Harry was shocked when he got into the limousine. There was a bench-type jump seat and he was ordered to sit in the middle. On one side was Mad-Eye Moody. Dumbledore slipped into the other. In the meantime, the two Muggle guards sat in the back seat facing the three Wizards. Each had pistols on shoulder holsters, which were now exposed for easy access. And two also now had automatic weapons in their laps.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore. "What's going on?" he whispered as he noticed several black sedans pull up in front and behind them as they got underway.

Dumbledore sighed. "We are going to help the Muggles hunt down Voldemort."

Two hours later, Harry, Dumbledore and Moody were in a sealed-off basement situation room in Thames House in London.

"His name is Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry said. "His father was a Muggle ... uh, nonmagical person. When he got out of Hogwarts, he murdered his father. The father must have been rich, because the gravestone was huge. And I could see the Riddle Mansion on a hill just above the cemetery."

"How is it that you could see this mansion and other magical people can't?"

Harry sighed. "Because I was invited there. Voldemort had me brought there to aid in his resurrection and to kill me. Only those invited to a location under a Fidelus charm can see it."

Chase nodded. "And the father's name?"

"Tom Riddle. It was on the grave marker."

"And his date of death?"

Harry turned to Dumbledore. "In the mid 1940s?"

"In 1944," Dumbledore said with a nod.

Chase turned around to an assistant. "Run that through the databases, would you Claire?"

Just over an hour later, the assistant returned. "Lower Hagleton, in southern Lincolnshire. Small town, maybe 800 people."

Chase left, leaving Harry, Moody and Dumbledore alone in the room.

"What's going to happen, Professor?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "The Muggles are going to try to kill Voldemort."

Chase returned almost an hour later. "It's on," he said flatly. "Terrain is perfect. The mansion is on a hill isolated from the rest of the community. There's a single point of egress, but the mansion is surrounded by a wooded area except for the front. Good cover." He then turned to Dumbledore. "How far out do you think the wards extend?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Maybe to the property line. Not much father than that."

Chase nodded. "Tomorrow night," he said. "Are your people alerted?"

Dumbledore merely nodded.

Chase gave a curt nod in return. "You'll bunk here for the night."

* * *

Maybelle Leander answered the polite knock to find a concerned constable. "Evening mam," he said. "Sorry to disturb you, but there's been a gas leak up the road. We'll need to move you to the town hall as a precautionary measure," the young constable said.

Maybelle's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, goodness!" she exclaimed.

The constable smiled. "No need for alarm. It's just a precaution. The leak is up the road a ways, at the old Riddle Manor."

Maybelle frowned, then nodded. "I must get my budgies, and a few other things."

The constable smiled. "Certainly, but please hurry. We want to make sure you and your neighbors are safe."

* * *

And thus, it began. Every Muggle within a two-mile radius of the Riddle mansion was very calmly and quietly evacuated.

Every Muggle except for two platoons of S.A.S., the elite arm of the British military. And a half dozen military ordnance officers from the Royal Air Force.

Harry sat in a dugout position on a rise just above the Riddle Mansion, which was about 250 yards away.

"He's there?" Dumbledore whispered.

Harry gave a jerking nod. Voldemort was there. He could feel the pain in his scar.

A Royal Air Force major in camouflage fatigues slid in beside Harry. "Ten minutes," he whispered.

Harry nodded grimly.

The major frowned and pulled out a pair of night vision goggles. "Give it a go again, son."

Harry aimed the stock of the weapon and aimed it at the roof of the mansion, pressing the button.

The major nodded. "Good to go." He then turned to Dumbledore. "No disrespect to the lad here, but why him? I'd rather one of mine do it."

Dumbledore sighed. "It's a group of our people who have caused the problem and it is best that one of our people end it."

The major frowned. "And who are your people?"

Dumbledore gave the major an enigmatic look.

Suddenly, conversation was cut off. "One minute," the major whispered and hunkered down. After a brief pause, the major turned to Dumbledore. "Thirty seconds. Signal your people."

Dumbledore set off a silent flare from his wand as the major turned away, then raised his wand to cast the anti-apparation ward. At the same moment, Filius Flitwick, Minerva McGonagall, and Alastor Moody cast their own anti-apparation wards on the other three corners of the property.

"Inbound," the major announced.

Harry simply concentrated on keeping the thin red beam of laser light focused on the roof of the mansion.

Suddenly, the world exploded.

Four 1,000 kilo bombs detonated almost simultaneously only a few yards apart after penetrating through the roof of the mansion. Slowly, over 40 S.A.S. fighters rose and began to make their way toward the now fiercely burning structure. And much more quickly, two Harrier attack jets of the Royal Air Force flying some 15,000 feet above made their way back to base.

* * *

THE BOY WHO LIVED

SAVES US AGAIN

Harry Potter, the boy who saved us 16 years ago by defeating You-Know-Who, has saved us again. Late last evening, Potter cast a single spell that destroyed Riddle Manor, the childhood home of the Dark Lord, killing all inhabitants, including You-Know-Who.

Details of the battle are sketchy at this time. However, the spell Potter cast appeared to be a single, wand-width sized beam of red light that hit the roof of the manor, causing a massive explosion, according to one eyewitness. All that was left of the spacious mansion was a crater 40 feet across and ten feet deep.

The remains of at least 12 witches and wizards were left at the scene. Of those positively identified were the Dark Lord, himself, Bellatrix LeStrange, and George Goyle. Another body, tentatively identified as Peter Pettigrew, was also found. Pettigrew, long thought murdered by Sirius Black, had only recently resurfaced in rumors that he was, in fact, to be alive after all, and the actual killer of 13 Muggles that long had been blamed on Sirius Black. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge has announced that the case against Black will be reopened.

"I've worked closely with Harry to bring this great victory about," says Fudge. The Minister says that much of the planning and execution of the battle had to be done in great secrecy to avoid alerting spies for You-Know-Who. "It was very hush-hush," he says.

Eleven Death Eaters remain in Azkaban Prison, all of whom have been sentenced to life terms. Most prominent among those is Lucius Malfoy, who was pardoned 15 years ago under the claim of acting under an Imperious curse. However, transcripts of a recent interrogation of Malfoy under Vertiserum show that he lied then and continued to work the 15 years for the resurrection of You-Know-Who, a resurrection that took place over a year ago.

In light of this new information, Minister of Magic Fudge announced that the entire Malfoy fortune, except for a small house and modest stipend for Malfoy's wife and son, would be confiscated. "I think it is only fair that the fortune amassed by such an evil person should be turned over to the Muggle authorities to be distributed to the victims of the outrages against them by the Death Eaters," Fudge says.

As to our hero, Harry Potter, he remains modest to a fault, and declined comment. "I just tried to do what's right," he was heard to say. "Maybe we can all live in peace now."

"The importance of Harry's victory in this battle cannot be overestimated," says Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School or Wizardry and Witchcraft. "He did not just defeat a Dark Wizard. He preserved the very existence of our world. For that we owe him a debt of gratitude."

* * *

Petunia Dursley glanced out the front window and was shocked to see a large black limousine pull up in front of No. 4 Privet Drive. A burley man in a dark suit jumped out and held the door open as Harry Potter stepped out, followed by another man in an elegant dove-gray suit.

She opened the door to see Harry give her a crooked smile. "Hello, Aunt Petunia."

Petunia glanced up at Harry's two escorts. "Holcroft Chase of the Home Office," the elegant if intense looking man said, handing her his card.

Petunia looked disconcerted. "What has the boy done now?"

Chase gave her a surprised look. "He has served his country with distinction beyond what anyone thought possible." He then glanced over at Harry's overweight cousin Dudley, who had wandered over to the foyer to see what was going on. "We can't go into detail as the whole matter is highly confidential, given Harry's status in his world. However, you should be very proud of him. This morning, he was secretly awarded the Victoria Cross for defeating one of the greatest threats to England's security in generations. Isn't that right, Sir Harry?"

Harry blushed and shuffled his feet. "Thanks, Mr. Chase," he said quietly before turning to go up the stairs to his room.

Chase smiled at Petunia, then nodded. "Thank you for your time. Take care of our hero," he said, before returning to the limousine.

Petunia closed the door with a dumbstruck look on her face. Then she looked up at her son Dudley, who was scowling.

"I want a Victoria Cross, too," he whined.

Petunia sighed. "I'm sure you'll get one too, Duddikins." Then she noticed Harry had returned with one of his old hand-me-down sweatshirts on.

"Aunt Petunia. I'm going to be leaving in a few days. The Headmaster is making arrangements for me to move to another place. And with Voldemort dead and most of his followers dead or in prison, I don't think I'll be returning."

Petunia huffed, being at a complete loss for words. Finally, she fell back on years of interaction with the boy. "Well, be that is it may, if you are expecting any supper in this house tonight, you'll have the lawn mowed first."

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Sure thing, Aunt Petunia. Sure thing," he said as he wandered laughing out the backdoor to the gardening shed to get the mower.