Truth Is

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"Truth Is"

Chapter 3

 "So," Hermione began slowly, she sat at the opposite end of the table from Ginny and stared her straight in the eye. She ran her fingers over her hair while trying to forget the pulsing headache that was ruining her Saturday morning and think about the night before with Ian.

 "So what?" Ginny retorted, with a mouthful of Ice Cream, as she looked up at her friend.

 "Where were you last night? I tried to get in touch with you after I got home but you were no where to be found," Hermione asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

 Ginny sat her spoon in the pint of ice cream before answering. "That was so long ago that I don't even remember."

 Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend’s horrid sarcasm. "You weren't with Harry, were you?"

 "Ha," Ginny chuckled loudly before placing the pint back in the freezer, with a smirk, "Harry and I, that's absurd."

 "Really now, why?" Hermione asked as she suppressed a chill that ran down her spine, a product of the early morning April air that was flowing in through the open window.

 A devious smile appeared on Ginny's fair features as she sat back in her chair. "I like my men a little more dangerous."

 Hermione raised an eyebrow at her younger friend, questioningly. "Dangerous?"

 "Dangerous in a good way, Hermione," Ginny replied her eyes widening in some unforeseen happiness. "He nourishes this passion within me that every other man in my past has tried to kill, he understands that it's a part of me and he refuses to do without it."

 "He's a good man?" Hermione asked, maternally, she actually wondered how long Ginny could live life as a single woman, it was hard for her to even imagine.

 "Extremely," Ginny answered softly looking down at her slender fingers.

 "Fine," Hermione continued, watching the emotions flying across her younger friend's face, "I won't grill you about him anymore but I will find out who he is."

 Ginny was quiet for a moment, looking up at the thick-haired woman before her, before she asked, "What about the man who ignites the fire in you?"

 "What?" Hermione questioned, quite surprised, as the comment caught her off guard. "What about Ian?"

 "Not Ian, Hermione, Ian does nothing but satisfy your need for affection and that's barely momentary," Ginny remarked quickly, preventing Hermione from interjecting a statement.

 "Ginny, Ian does more for me than that," Hermione argued gently.

 "Sure," she replied, brushing off her friend's argument, "what about the meeting yesterday?"

 "What about it?" Hermione replied, nonchalantly, arching an eyebrow.

 "What was he like? Was he the same as before or what?" Ginny asked, in a voice reminiscent of a young school girl.

 Hermione sighed loudly as she stared into her coffee. "It seemed that damned meeting lasted all day, we argued, like we used to yet being in that office with him just felt normal. Still, Blaise was different, I can't put my finger on it exactly but I could feel it, even in the way he spoke, it just wasn't the same. His hair is a lot shorter and, somehow, his chest is a lot broader yet when he stood next to me – "

 "What? Come on, Hermione, be honest," Ginny prodded as Hermione became enthralled with the thoughts in her head.

 Hermione shook her head as she looked up at her friend. "I ended up asking him to leave and that's how we ended the meeting."

 "Hermione," Ginny whined, as Hermione obviously closed the door to that subject.

"Drop it," Hermione replied sharply, as she stood up and placed her cup in the sink.

 "You can't ignore it forever," remarked Ginny as she heard the front door close and the approach of two voices.

 "That's what you think," Hermione mumbled just as Ian and Harry entered the room laughing at something that Harry had said.

~*~

 "It's Saturday morning," Blaise groaned as he greeted the head of his Minister of Defense floating in the fireplace.

 "I'm sorry, sir," said Carrick Blair as he watched Blaise sit on the dark green couch with a loud sigh.

 "What is it? What's got that look in your eye, Blair?" Blaise asked after a moment. He had chosen Carrick Blair for the position just moments after his elections for his ability to be ruffled by nothing, which is why the worried look in his eye caught Blaise's attention.

 "The situation in South America is worse than we thought, Minister," Carrick answered as the bustle of the crowd behind him reached Blaise's ears.

 "How much worse?" Blaise asked as Draco entered his office quietly and leaned on his desk.

 Carrick Blair sighed loudly, squeezing his eyes tight before answering. "Montague returned this morning with reports full of incidents that lead no where but to something that we are trying to avoid accepting."

 "Isolated incidents or something that is far greater?" Blaise asked, his tone more serious, as he laid his elbows on his knees and clasp his fingers together.

 "Far greater, sir," Carrick replied with a sigh, "we sent Montague's reports, as well as his assistant's reports, to the Minister of Justice and he agrees, this is systematic murder. Sir that is as simple as we can state it."

 "Murder?" Draco questioned loudly, Blaise wasn't surprised to hear his presence in the room there was rarely a moment in his political life that Draco missed.

 "At first we thought it was just a case of another fascist Dark Lord trying to arise through the image of saving the pure bloods but Montague says it wasn't like that at all. So Pucey looked through his records and found many Muggle incidents like this, several in Africa, one gigantic incident in Europe when Hitler came to power, and several in Asia. We've never seen it done like this in the Wizarding world," Carrick replied as if he had spent the entire night trying to understand it.

 "Blair, are you telling me that they are committing acts of Genocide over there?" Blaise asked as his knowledge of Muggle History and War Tactics kicked in.

 Carrick nodded. "I thought Voldemort was as close as we would get to Genocide but it's been broken down to even broader groups than bloodlines."

 "How much broader, Carrick?" Blaise asked as he began biting his bottom lip with worry.

 "All over South America in Brazil, Peru, Argentina, Bolivia the rich are killing the poor, and, it seems, the bigger the country the worse it is. It all started years and years ago when the Governments in these countries were banded together as one huge Magical government, about the time that they were taken over by the Ministry in the US. The US split up the rich from the poor and, in the name of, quote unquote, democracy there was more poor so the ministry gave the poor the right to rule. So for years while we were fighting Grindelwald and Voldemort the rich was sitting angrily while poor wizards ruled them. However, just last year the US gave each of these magical countries back their right to rule -- " Draco interrupted Carrick as he sat next to his friend and finished Carrick's thought.

 "All the men elected to offices in those countries were rich, landholding, investment spending wizards."

"Exactly," Carrick answered with a restless sigh, "ruthless, each and every one of them are. The President of Brazil, who was just elected last week, was the one who allegedly spurned this particularly bloody turn of events, and he is using his personal money to cover his tracks."

 "Look," Blaise began with a mumbled curse, as he stood to his feet, "I'll be in a bit just keep gathering intelligence, you know we can't do a damn thing without adequate information. Get Fletchly, Montague, and Pucey there before I arrive, I'll need all of you to brief me on this situation."

 "Sir," Carrick began slowly, almost fearful of the stormy look in Blaise's eye, "I believe this is an International situation, the ICW will be here when you arrive also, they have already contacted us."

 Draco nodded with a chuckle. "Your decision to become involved with Brazil has turned Britain into the next destination of all the heads of every branch of the ICW, including the Supreme Mugwump if you don't handle it."

 "Don't worry," Blaise answered darkly, as he made his way to his desk and grabbed some parchment and quill, "I'm going to handle this."

 "Blaise," Draco began as he made his way to the desk, his long blonde hair flowing behind him, "I have a feeling you won't be able to handle this behind a desk in London."

~*~

 "He was the only man I killed worth remembering," Harry told Ian as they continued their conversation about years long past.

Harry had taken a distinct liking to Ian, although his best-friend and his sister both agreed that he bared too much of a resemblance to their traitorous brother, Percy. Ian and Harry spent many Saturdays together since Ron no longer resided in England and Harry was without a steady woman in his life. Harry found comfort with a man that would actually discuss the things that they had gone through and not shut himself off like Ron would, though he often thought that Ian could do with a number of Ron's better qualities.

 "If Voldemort hadn't gotten his mind he could have been great," Ian replied as he took a long drink of his butterbeer.

 "His son came out pretty well, no?" Harry asked of the young man that he had paid little attention to during his days at Hogwarts.

 Ginny frowned at the two and signaled for Hermione to follow her out into the hall. Ginny stood beside the living room door and waited for her slightly hungover friend to follow and as she rounded the corner Ginny caught her arm. "Hermione, you might want to go into your office soon before Rodion owls you."

 "Why? It's a Saturday," Hermione remarked, in a whisper, "I usually don't go in."

 Ginny frowned at the brunette, saying, "Something crazy is going on, Hermione, it could affect the entire Wizarding world."

 "How do you know?" Hermione whispered, suspiciously, peering into the room at the oblivious men.

 "A friend of mine just sent me an owl," she replied, with an urgent tone, "you need to go support Zabini, from what I hear he's going to need it."

 Hermione frowned, whispering harshly, "That is Victoria's job to support him, I'm not going until my boss tells me to, whatever this situation is he can handle it alone."

 "Hermione," Ginny interjected softly, "I think it's your job now."

 "Look," Hermione sighed loudly, "I doubt anything that horrible has occurred this early in his administration, I'm sure he can handle whatever it is without me."

 Ginny shook her head and thrust a folded piece of parchment toward Hermione. "Fine, read this."

 Hermione slowly took the letter from her friend with a frown and began reading softly, to herself, "Darling Ginerva --"

Darling Ginerva,

                     I know this message is extremely short notice and I do hope I'm not disturbing you but I write this letter to regretfully inform you that our meeting tonight will have to be indefinitely postponed. There arrived news this morning, from South America, of an incident that will soon set the precedent for the Minister's administration and I have to be there for him, you know that it is required of me. I can almost envision your long wavy lock swaying as you shake your head and mumbled of my antiquated noble ideals, even your reprimanding is beautiful, my dearest. Regretfully, this cannot be helped, the Minister was informed this morning that this will very soon become an International situation and it could possibly threaten even the peace that has been constructed in our own lives. What is happening over there is a bit like the horror that filled our lives for years while we lived in fear of Voldemort, yet it is quite different. Ten years ago this wouldn't have been an international situation, as you didn't see France and the US running to save us from Voldemort, but when the war ended the ICW passed several Bills that made this a Humanitarian emergency, for what if the unrest reaches our own shores. I will come see you later tonight, probably after midnight for I fear I will be in South America before I know it. Please, do not worry and do not forget me, I will write when I can.

Regretfully Yours,

          D. L. M. XII

 "What's going on, Ginny?" Hermione asked softly, as she handed the letter back to Ginny slowly.

 "I don't know, Hermione," Ginny answered slowly, her voice barely reaching her friends awaiting ears, "but Draco never puts that much intimacy into a quick owl."

 "Draco?" Hermione gasped, as the letters that ended the note flashed through her mind. "This note is from Draco?"

 "Yea." Ginny nodded as she folded the note and placed it back in her robes. "So what about Blaise, Hermione? If Draco is reminding me of his affection what do you think Blaise is going through?"

 "Ginny, stop that," she demanded, as she peered in at Harry and Ian again, "I know I need to go in now, I'll more than likely receive an owl from his secretary soon, I better go to the bedroom before it arrives and Ian starts asking questions."

 "Okay, I'll go and make your excuses," Ginny said as she began to make her way back into the living room, leaving Hermione to ponder the possibilities.

~*~

 "Blaise!" Hermione called as she entered the bustling office, flew by many distracted men, and made her way toward two figures standing by the window one with his hand in his pocket and the other talking softly, almost under his breath.

 Blaise looked over at her, almost relieved, as her long brown hair flew behind her and even in her haste her voluptuous body seemed to glide toward him, saying quickly, "You remember my father, Lucio Zabini?"

 "Of course," she smiled, wryly, at the older wizard whose son was a mirror-image of him, "nice to see you again. Blaise, what's going on over there?"

 "Look, son," Lucio began as he fingered the cigar in his hand, "I'm going to go talk to Fletchly and find out who is going to head the operations between us and them."

 "Thanks, Papa," Blaise answered as his father made his way to the other side of the office and he turned his attention to the young woman in front of him. "Hermione, you were right."

 "About what?" she asked, glancing around at the different officials that crowded the spacious office and the hallway outside of it.

 "Not getting involved with Brazil," he retorted softly, as his eyebrows creased into a frown, "the entire continent over there is either committing Genocide or becoming a victim of it."

 "Oh, Blaise," Hermione whispered with a sigh, "and they are going to put this whole operation on your administration because you were the only one that decided to get involved with that country so soon after their transfer of power."

 Blaise nodded as he watched the worry build in her eye and she dared to lay a caring hand on his arm. "Hermione, the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW doesn't want to deal with this, at all, he says it's up to me and my diplomats."

 "I'm your only diplomat, besides Fletchly and he's going to be needed to deal with all of these other countries and their Branches of government and ICW," she retorted with a chuckle, the irony of the situation was not lost on her at all. She looked up into his captivating eyes, watching something that she hadn't seen in years float between the worry and could not stop herself from reassuring him. "Don't worry, you have the ability to solve this problem and I'll be here every step of the way."

 "Sir," called a tall, raven-haired, man as he approached the two.

 "Yes, Montague," Blaise answered as he loosened his tie and tried to replace the worry with something short of resolve.

 "It's been reported that Brazil, Argentina, and Peru alone have begun to train an army of seventy-thousand men while several hundred mercenaries, from every country on the continent, have been sweeping the countryside killing towns of poor Muggleborns and half bloods. The Italian ICW has reported that it's much more than money, now bloodlines have been added," Montague reported with a look much like those that were worn by the Aurors in the last great war against Voldemort.

 "Oh, dear gods, Hermione," called a deep voice as a buff, Scottish, man approached the two, "we were waiting on you to arrive!"

 "Broderick, I just arrived," she answered, giving him a simple yet cordial smile, "how are things?"

 "It's getting insane out there, Hermione," Broderick Boyle explained, ignoring the eyes of Montague and Zabini, "they've burned all the ICW embassies and refused to release any of our employees out there. They've turned from the modern Wizarding world and the Supreme Mugwump is dealing with the Russian crisis right now, he's leaving it to our Minister of Magic. What in the hell are we going to do?"

 "We are going to research all of the postwar bills that were passed by every branch of the ICW and find out how we can persecute these governments while Britain plays good guy, goes over there and tries our best to negotiate with these men," Hermione began as she unbuttoned the button on her suit and began to do what she did best.

 "Tell Blair that I need some defense tactics, now," Blaise demanded as he sat behind his desk and began to leaf through the piles of reports that covered his desk.

 Hermione looked down at the Italian as she leaned on his desk holding a pile of bills that she had once helped enforce as law in many countries. She watched the lines around his lips appear and disappear as Carrick Blair went over dictatorial tactics of men long dead. She watched the muscle jump in his jaw as he made endless observations and she couldn't help but remember exactly what it was that made her so attracted to him. She was jolted out of her reverie by a familiar voice asking for her attention as he handed her more papers.

 "Rodion," Hermione called as he turned to walk away.

 "Yes, Miss Granger?" the slim Russian answered quickly, as he turned to face her.

 "Send an Owl to Miss Ginny Weasley telling her that I'm giving what is need in this situation, no more or no less," Hermione dictated as he applied it to his memory, it was one of the things that had made her want to hire him, his ability to commit things to memory.

 "Is that all?" he asked as he pulled a stray quill from his pocket.

 "That'll be all."