Phoenix Intuition

Chapter Fifteen

As planned, Arthur got up early on Friday morning. He knew there were dozens of routine matters that had been waiting since Bright was incapacitated three weeks ago, but Arthur had one priority: a meeting with Kenneth Barclay. He asked Kingsley to set it up as soon as possible, and get back to him. To Arthur's surprise, Kingsley reported that Barclay would see them at eight-thirty.

Arthur wanted Kingsley along, and two 'staff,' he had told Kingsley to tell Barclay. Kingsley set up a Portkey, and they all took it from the Muggle Liaison office to a meeting room at 10 Downing Street. "Mr. Barclay," Arthur greeted him. "You know Kingsley, of course, and I'd like to introduce my assistants for dealing with Muggle affairs, Colin Creevey and Dudley Dursley."

Suitably impressed, both shook hands with Barclay, who greeted them politely. "My impression is that you are both quite young, but after meeting Professor Potter five years ago, I am used to the idea that in your world, young people occupy responsible positions."

"Well, it's not my world exactly," clarified Dudley as Barclay gestured them to sit. "I'm what they call a Muggle too; Arthur just wanted one working in Muggle relations. I knew about wizards anyway because I'm Harry's cousin." Dudley decided not to add that in the wizarding world, working in the Muggle Liaison office wasn't really considered a responsible position.

"I see. So he is still a phoenix?" Arthur briefly explained what had happened with Harry recently; Barclay shook his head in wonder. "I say, you people have the most interesting problems. Unfortunately, it is our problems that we must discuss. I have three days before I must make a final decision as to whether to withdraw British troops from Iraq. Or, I should say, to act on my decision. I have not told the Americans, because at this time I do not trust their leadership, but barring any highly unusual developments I will be withdrawing our troops. We did not ask for this war, and our people do not want it. Of course, the ideal course would be to stop this war now. Now that you are Minister, and congratulations on that, do you have more authority than before to act?"

"I have authority to act in Britain," Arthur said unhappily, "which does us little good at the moment. As you know, we've already done some unauthorized investigating in America, drawing the ire of our counterparts over there. But since they seem disinclined to act, I'll do it again if I think it'll be useful. What you can do to help is to let us know if you see or hear of anything that seems like it might have had anything to do with magic. We need a lead, and we don't have any right now."

Barclay nodded solemnly. "Of course. In addition, I will tell my intelligence leaders to be on the lookout for... events that cannot be easily explained. One advantage of being Prime Minister is that I need not explain my directives."

Arthur smiled. "I suppose not. Well, it's good to know that at least our governments are on the same page about this. All we need to do now is convince the rest of the world."

"Or at least the Americans, which should be the most difficult bit," said Barclay with sad humor. "No progress on that front, I take it?"

"I'm seeing my counterpart, the American Secretary of Magic, as soon as possible today, and I'm going to put forward the need for action as aggressively as I can," Arthur assured Barclay. "I have no idea what progress I may make, but I'm not optimistic."

"I hope you have better fortune than I did with their President," said Barclay. "Anything that is done to stop the war will probably have to be done over his objections. I believe he actively desired this conflict, which is why I am willing to remove our troops despite the precarious situation in which it will leave their troops. That, and the fact that I will be summarily removed from this office if I do not do so," he added with a self-deprecating shrug, humorously admitting his main motivation.

"Of course, we do have to listen to our constituents," agreed Arthur. The thought immediately occurred to him that he personally did not have to; he would be Minister for five years no matter what. He would listen, and do what they wanted when it seemed like the right thing to do.

* * * * *

Arthur returned to the Ministry to find Dentus waiting for him in the Minister's office; it would be difficult for him to think of it as his own. Amelia had agreed to stay on at Hogwarts another day while Dentus helped Arthur get started. Dentus, however, had bad news.

"Well, Arthur, there's been the first challenge to your authority. A little over half the Ministry called in sick this morning."

Arthur sighed. "Trent?"

"Yes, of course. It seems he's been trying to arrange this since last night; I've talked to a few people he tried to recruit and didn't do it. He's trying to convince people that what happened amounted to an illegal coup, and it's just a matter of time before he gets to the bottom of it. How you or the Aurors hoodwinked or manipulated the Arbiter, and fixed the Orbs. In the meantime, he expects those loyal to him--who, of course, will be rewarded when he get his rightful Ministership--to openly take his side, or at the very least, passively resist by calling in sick."

This is not good, thought Arthur. What makes it almost worse is that it isn't as though Trent doesn't have a point. I know the law is on my side, but what happened is still unexplained, and it smells very fishy. "Should I take this as a bad sign, or as a good sign that it was only as much as it was?"

"It's possible to see it either way. Of course, this is doomed to fail, if for no other reason than that the Aurors are with you; you have society's muscle behind you. But you should know, Arthur, that the way you're perceived isn't helping you. Apparently Trent's people had to overcome a certain amount of resistance to get this many people to call in sick; people were afraid of losing their jobs. Trent's people were saying, this is Weasley, you don't have to worry about consequences, and that persuaded some people. Calling in sick was like keeping a toe in Trent's camp, keeping their options open. You need to put a stop to it."

Arthur nodded; he could see that it made sense. "What do you suggest?"

Dentus gave him a level stare. "I'd like you to think about this one yourself, Arthur. Tell me what you think you should do, and I'll advise you. But this is a leadership test, and I want to see what you do with it."

Arthur was mildly annoyed, but he supposed he could see what Dentus meant. He mulled it over for a minute. "Is there any way to persuade people that the Choosing was legitimate? Any evidence we can point to?"

The expression on Dentus's face told Arthur that he hadn't given the answer Dentus had hoped he would. "No."

Dismayed, Arthur thought again. "Well, I can't exactly fire the people who called in sick. That's half the Ministry."

"You couldn't anyway," pointed out Dentus. "You have no proof that they weren't actually sick, and being sick isn't an offense for which one can be fired."

Arthur took another minute. "I suppose I could tell people that they'll be fired if they don't show up for work on Monday. Unless they actually are sick, in which case, they'd have to get a note from St. Mungo's."

"Arthur," said Dentus patiently, "you know very well that one can use magic to give the appearance of sickness. Your sons sell candy that will do it."

"You think I should say that people have to come in, even if they're sick?"

"If you make that exception, at least the same number as today won't come in, maybe more, and St. Mungo's will be packed with people getting notes. I guarantee it. Arthur, I know it's not fair to what few people might actually be sick, but this is important. There's being fair, and there's letting yourself get pushed around. You're legally the Minister, but if Trent has his way, there'll be enormous public pressure on you to do something outside the law, such as hold another Choosing, or even choose a Minister in some unconventional way. That's his aim, and a non-functioning Ministry would be a powerful argument for him. 'Look how weak Weasley is, he can't even get the Ministry to come into work.' Trent will do anything, anything, to find a way to get the results of the Choosing declared void, and himself restored to his former position. If you don't act firmly, you're setting a tone that will haunt you for five years even if Trent fails here."

Dentus saw the unhappiness on Arthur's face. "Arthur, there was a story I was told soon after I joined Hogwarts. When Harry was made the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at the beginning of his sixth year, Draco Malfoy started manipulating younger students, challenging Harry's authority. Did you ever hear about that?"

Arthur nodded. "He threatened Malfoy with detention, which he eventually gave when Malfoy didn't back down. But I can't give Trent detention."

Dentus tried not to roll his eyes. Arthur was a good man; Dentus would have to be patient with his inability to grasp certain things. "The point is that Harry acted firmly, he didn't tolerate what Malfoy was trying to do. He acted with the authority he had. You need to find out exactly what authority you have, then use it. Your first impulse was conciliation, to persuade others of the rightness of your position. That's understandable, but it's Trent you're fighting more than the Ministry people he's manipulating. Taking a firm line with Trent will persuade the Ministry employees a lot better than any verbal persuasion will. People must understand one thing: when the dust settles, you'll still be Minister, and Trent will be out. Perception is extremely important here; what is seen to be the case is what will end up happening. As we speak, Trent is out there doing all he can to get you removed as Minister, even though there's no legal means for it. I strongly suggest that you find out exactly what Trent is saying and doing, meet with your legal advisers--those that showed up for work today, anyway--and find out what your options are. Having done that, you can decide what action to take."

Somber, Arthur nodded again. Dentus was tempted to take Arthur by the hand and walk him through every step he needed to take, making sure he did it all. But I'm not going to do that, thought Dentus. I've told him what needs to be done, but there are some things a man has to do by himself, decide by himself. If he lets himself get pushed out of this job under these circumstances, then he really shouldn't have it in the first place. Still, Dentus had compassion for Arthur. Arthur hadn't really wanted the job; it was a substantial burden for him. Dentus stood to leave, then paused. "There's a difference, Arthur, between being a strongman and being a strong man." He left, hoping that Arthur would recognize the right thing to do. Once Arthur did, he would surely do it.

* * * * *

Luna had more or less recovered from the angst she'd suffered the previous night, but she still felt the weight of responsibility. The morning Prophet, with its passing suggestion that there was another with Harry's power going unnoticed, hadn't helped. It couldn't be proved, and as long as the Arbiter remained silent, there was no way to link it to her. She tried not to think about it; she would just have to try harder to take no actions with her unusual abilities that would have strong effects on others.

She had decided to go to the Ministry with Colin and Dudley, partly to be around Colin, and partly for her Muggle Liaison article. She knew that the general, behind-the-scenes article she'd planned to write would now become a story of how the department reacted to effects that wizards had on the Muggle world, and in particular, their response to this war. After lunch, Colin had gone to meet an acquaintance who worked in another department; she talked to Dudley as he checked out the Web, getting details of what had happened in the Muggle Prime Minister's office earlier.

Colin came in, sat near them, and spoke in a low voice. "The guy I told you about, it turns out he wanted to talk to me because he wants to quietly let me know what Trent is doing. Trent basically wants the Ministry to refuse to recognize Arthur as Minister, for them to do nothing Arthur says. He's trying to get the support of the big businesspeople, the very rich, people like that. If Trent gets enough support, he would make up some story about the Choosing being rigged, maybe even make up some evidence for it, and basically declare himself Minister. The idea would be that if enough Ministry employees followed him, he would be the Minister, in fact if not by law. The Aurors wouldn't follow him, at first at least, but his people are saying they eventually would. They'd want Arthur to slink away with his tail between his legs."

Luna frowned. "I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Isn't it illegal to plan to get rid of the Minister in any way not otherwise approved of by law?"

"Yes, it is," agreed Colin. "A challenge from the undersecretaries or a Choosing are the only ways it's allowed. Anyway, he's also whipping up opinion about the energy of love, even more than he was at the end of the campaign. He's saying that the love magic people are trying to take over, and Arthur's challenge was a plot by them to take power, and using the way the Choosing works--and, he claims, manipulation and corruption--never let it go. He's trying to paint it as a revolution against the established authority, a coup. It reminds me of what Professor Dentus used to say in History of Magic: if you want to gain power, you always have an enemy, an 'other', someone to blame. His is the people who use the energy of love."

"Could he succeed?" asked Dudley.

Colin shook his head. "I don't know, but if I were Arthur, I'd worry. We all know that Trent will do anything to get what he wants. I thought I'd stop in and tell you two first, but I'm heading straight to Arthur. He needs to know this."

* * * * *

In the early afternoon, Rogers met with the President and the other usual foreign-policy principals. He reported that it was highly likely that the Brits would leave Iraq, and it could not even be taken for granted that they would stay for every moment they possibly could. He was alarmed to hear that satellite images were showing that North Korean military exercises were occurring in an unusual pattern, unusual even for surprise exercises. The President asked Rogers for his best guess as to the North Koreans' state of mind; he deferred to Adams, suggesting that North Korea's intentions could be discerned better by objective facts than diplomatic analysis.

Back in his office, his heart was heavy. Would North Korea seriously consider invading the South? Even with America's nuclear deterrent? America had just sent half its troops that were normally stationed in South Korea to the Middle East; could this be some head fake by North Korea designed to get America to pull them back, thus weakening its position in the Middle East? Rogers desperately hoped so, but had a sinking feeling that it was more than that. With America diverted by a war that demanded its total concentration and resources, there would never be a better time for North Korea to attack the South, if it was ever going to. The question was, if the North attacked the South with conventional weapons, would America respond the only way it could with any effectiveness--with nuclear weapons? They had not been used since World War II, and it would be very difficult to justify their use. Adams had pointed out that if North Korea did attack with conventional weapons, the South's defeat was far from a foregone conclusion, though it was possible.

Rogers wondered for the hundredth time since the war had started four days ago whether he could have made any difference had he done what his conscience told him to do. He'd told himself that he'd had no choice, and it was true, but the number of dead that could possibly be attributed to his actions was already far too high, and could escalate extremely quickly. An idea came to him, one that he'd had many times over the past four days, but shot down as too risky. He started gathering his courage; not doing anything was starting to become terribly, soul-crushingly risky.

* * * * *

It had been a very busy, and very stressful, first day of work for Arthur. Worrying about the Muggle war and the immense responsibilities of his job would have been bad enough, but his main focus had to be on the challenge Trent was mounting. What he wanted to do had conflicted with what he understood he should do.

The door to his office opened; he remembered that he had told his secretary, who had been Bright's secretary before, to have the man come in when he arrived. "Mr. Atkinson," said Arthur, extending a hand. "Good to see you again."

The reporter nodded. "Minister. Excuse me for saying so, but it still sounds odd saying that to you."

"It still sounds odd hearing it," agreed Arthur. "But I'll have to get used to it, and so will Roger Trent."

Arthur gestured Atkinson to a chair, and they both sat. "Does this mean that you've decided to take action against him?"

Arthur nodded grimly. He almost started the next sentence with 'I'd really prefer not to, but...', then decided that he didn't want to sound wishy-washy while he was trying to be firm. "If I'm to follow the law, I really have no choice. It couldn't be clearer that he's trying to engineer the removal of a lawfully Chosen Minister, and that is illegal. Fifteen minutes ago, I ordered the Aurors to arrest him. It should be happening any time now."

Atkinson's eyebrows rose. "Did you consider taking a more tolerant line, in view of the curious circumstances of the Choosing?"

"Of course. I wish it hadn't come to this. I wouldn't have minded if he had protested this, or tried to suggest that we should consider changing the way the Choosing works. That would have been within the law. But he has gone outside the law, and I can't allow that. I'm sure he feels genuinely aggrieved, and for that, I don't blame him. He got the support of sixty percent of the people, and in most systems of choosing leaders, that would be more than enough. But we can't change the law retroactively because we don't like its results, and that's what he's trying to do."

"Will you take any action against his supporters in the Ministry, or against those who called in sick today?"

"Not yet, but I'm issuing a firm warning to them. Anyone who continues what he has done will be joining him in custody. His inner circle, who I understand have been assisting him, are now being warned by Aurors that continued activity will not be tolerated, and that they must act strictly within the confines of the law. As for those who called in sick, I am announcing now that anyone who calls in sick on Monday will be summarily dismissed. I have already made it known to all in the building, and warning owls will be sent to those who called in sick today."

Again, Atkinson's eyebrows went up. "Being sick is not a sacking offense."

"No, but disobeying a direct order from the Minister is. It is within my authority to do this. I apologize in advance to anyone who happens to be truly sick on Monday, but they must come in. I think that everyone will understand why it must be this way."

"Do you think that in view of what happened yesterday, the way the Choosing works should be changed?"

"I think that would be premature. Choosing based on a wizard's strength may or may not be 'fair,' but it is the way things have been done for five hundred years. Changing the system based on one unusual occurrence would be an overreaction, I feel."

"It may not be only one occurrence," replied Atkinson. "As you may know, Roger Trent has been saying today that this is a coup by those who use love magic, and that as more people use it, those who do not do so risk becoming a permanent underclass, ruled by those who do. What do you say in response to this?"

Arthur repressed a chuckled at the absurdity of the thought. "As someone who does use love magic, I can safely say that those who do have no desire to 'rule' anyone. This was not a 'coup,' since I expected to lose, and was very surprised to win. I only initiated the challenge because I felt that Roger Trent would have been a harsh and divisive Minister, and I think events have proved me right. As we see right now, he is trying to whip up fear, trying to divide our society. That is not the way to lead. I think we need to remember that what happened this time was unexplained, and that there's no way to know if it would happen again. I tried to find out what had happened, and if I can, I will. But it's far too soon to make dire predictions about the future."

Arthur was very uncomfortable, because he felt in his own heart that he had not been legitimately Chosen, or at least, that the will of the people had not been reflected. But he knew Dentus was right; people were sometimes handed difficult situations, and had to do the best they could. Arthur personally felt that the Choosing needed to be reviewed and perhaps changed, but to say that right then would only give credence to what Trent was saying. He would wait until some time had passed, perhaps a year, then bring it up as a general public policy matter. It couldn't only be about him.

* * * * *

In the offices inhabited by the leading North Korean Dark wizards--no one of them was in charge, they had varying levels of influence--the question was not about whether to attack, or when, but how. One option was a standard conventional attack, by which they hoped to overcome the South's technological advantage by sheer force of numbers. Their Muggle military leaders--the wizards didn't deign to become involved in such details--had gamed it out many times, and victory was highly speculative at best, even though half of the American troops and much of their high-tech weaponry would be gone. Better yet, once the attack happened, additional help from the Americans would not be forthcoming.

The other option was a first strike using its newly manufactured nuclear weapons. One would be aimed at the South's command and control centers in Seoul; two others would target the South's front-line troops near the border. One advantage in taking prompt action was that the winds were blowing towards the south, so the nuclear fallout would fall only on the South, not the North. The wizards didn't care a great deal about damage to the civilian population; the effects had to be considered, but in a purely utilitarian way.

The problem with this approach, of course, was the possibility of an American nuclear response. They had reason to believe that the American wizard's plans would succeed, but they had to plan as though they would not, and that the American response would be an unimpeded one. Magic would allow them to survive the nuclear attack, but the wizarding population would have to be warned, and some might lose their homes. The only serious danger would come from the Americans deciding, in response, to truly blanket the North with a few dozen nuclear missiles, which they considered extremely unlikely; the American response would likely be a proportional one. In addition, unless the American response was extremely fast and accurate, the North's troops would be well into the South by the time the Americans could respond, and the Americans would never fire nuclear weapons onto South Korean territory.

The North Korean wizards did not worry about international response after the invasion was successful; no one would attempt to drive them out, as the Iraqis had been driven out of Kuwait. That would never have happened without Americans propelling the effort, and the Americans had their hands full. The Chinese would not be pleased, but would take no serious action against them; the rest of the world would protest and wail, but do nothing. The Americans would not be able to lead, and no other country would be willing.

The North Korean wizards decided to wait until there seemed to be a sign that what the American wizard intended was actually happening. As soon as they had it, they would launch the nuclear weapons. They decided on an extra one aimed at South Korea's wizarding population, which lived and worked in the same small area. With any luck, they would be caught napping, and would be sufficiently decimated that they would cause no problem for the new rulers of the entire, united country.

* * * * *

It was four-thirty on the U.S. east coast as Bob Rogers looked at his watch. Unless his nerve failed him, he would very soon do something that would put his career and life at risk, and risk the lives of his family as well. But he couldn't escape his responsibility for what had happened, even though his actions had been coerced. If he had done three weeks ago what he would do now, there would very possibly not be a war taking place. He wanted to call his wife and two grown children to warn them, but he knew he couldn't trust any phone. He would just have to pray that nothing happened to them. He knew what had happened to the Vice-President's son, though, and had no illusions. He was taking a grave risk.

One thing he did not want to risk was the President finding out what was happening any sooner than he had to. Rogers had heard that the President would, as usual, take the presidential helicopter Marine One to Camp David, the Maryland presidential retreat, as he usually did on Friday afternoons. Normally in a time of war, a President would be expected to stay at the White House, but modern communications equipment made that necessity obsolete; the President could be briefed anywhere, with the same information and level of security present in the White House Situation Room. The President, Rogers knew, also wanted to paint a picture of normalcy. As for Rogers, he wanted to wait for the President to board Marine One before doing what he did; he knew that the first thing that would happen would be a Presidential summons, which he preferred to put off.

A few minutes later, his TV screen finally showed the President walking out to Marine One. Rogers stood, and headed out the front door of the White House; he would find the nearest cluster of cameras. He didn't want to do it in the White House briefing room, as he felt that only words that were officially sanctioned should be said there. Before he left, he'd called a CNN producer on his cell phone, telling him that he'd have something important to say that he wanted to go out live, and asking him to tell the other major media outlets the same thing. He assured the CNN man that he'd get an exclusive later.

* * * * *

Dinner had been two and a half hours ago, and Dudley was feeling that it was time for him to go. His parents had invited him for dinner again even though it had only been a week; obviously they'd been very impressed by his association with a Special Forces captain. All through dinner they'd made little comments clearly showing that they'd like any hints he might be inclined to drop about his work. He hadn't done it, of course, and was starting to wonder if he might have to start begging off dinners if they started doing it too much.

Fortunately, when dinner had finished, that line of conversation had stopped. They'd been watching television for the past few hours, and Dudley had listened to his parents talk about the usual things. As his father was flipping channels during a commercial, he went past the BBC's Channel One; Dudley fleetingly saw a familiar-looking man in front of a cluster of microphones. "Wait, Dad, go back to Channel One," he said urgently. Surprised, Vernon did so, and Dudley listened carefully.

"My advice to the President over much of the past month has been coerced and flawed," the American Secretary of State was saying. "My life, and my family's life, has been threatened by an individual, perhaps part of an organization, who has demonstrated that he can access any area, no matter the level of security. He demanded that I urge the President in the direction of conflict with Iran, which, fearing for my family's safety, I did. I urge anyone currently near any of my family members to protect them; they may be in grave danger as I speak. This war never should have happened, and was sought by parties who did not have the best interests of the United States at heart."

Dudley's heart was suddenly pounding. Access any area, no matter the level of security... that sounded very much like something a wizard could do, and pushing a war was consistent with the aim of the sarin gas attack. This was enormously important, he had to do something...

"What is it, Dudley?" asked Vernon, mystified by his son's reaction; Petunia was looking at him strangely as well. He was about to answer them when his cell phone rang. Must be Colin, he thought, he's watching this.

He took the phone out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"Mr. Dursley?" The voice sounded very familiar.

"Yes."

"This is Kenneth Barclay speaking."

Dudley knew immediately why he was calling. "Mr. Barclay!" he exclaimed in surprise; his stunned parents gaped at him, wondering if it could possibly be 'that' Barclay.

"Mr. Dursley, if you will turn your nearest television to the BBC news--"

Dudley had never thought he would interrupt the Prime Minister, but he did. "I'm already watching it, sir. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"It would seem so. If what we think is correct, this may be the break we have been looking for."

"Yes, sir, I think so too. But time is critical; we have to do something right now."

"Indeed, I fear that the Secretary could fall victim to foul play at any time. He clearly does not know that his tormentor is likely a wizard. I know the people of the wizarding world are reluctant to act, but something should be done, and very quickly."

"Absolutely, sir. Don't worry, I'll get it going. I'll make sure they know what has to be done. Can you contact Captain Ingersoll? We might need his help."

"I will get in contact with him as soon as possible."

"Thank you, sir. I'll let you know what happens as soon as I know anything."

"Thank you, Mr. Dursley. I look forward to hearing from you." Dudley turned off his phone and snapped it shut, then looked around for his jacket, which he remembered was hanging near the front door. "I'm sorry, I have to go," he said as he stood.

"Dudley! Was that the Prime Minister?" asked Petunia, both incredulous and excited. They followed him as he practically ran for the door.

"Yes, which is why I have to go," he replied, throwing his jacket on quickly and opening the door. "Don't tell anyone!" he added over his shoulder as he ran from the porch to his car, parked in the driveway.

Looking at each other in amazement, they watched their son jump into his car and drive away. "How can he expect us not to tell anyone about that?" asked Petunia plaintively. "My friends would just die!"

* * * * *

Dudley was greatly annoyed that he had to drive away, but he wasn't quite ready to blow his cover by using the fireplace at four Privet Drive. His cell phone had never left his hand; he speed-dialed Colin as he drove. "Colin! Did you see what was just on TV?"

"No, what?"

"Never mind, no time to explain. Meet me at Harry's place, I'll be there in a minute."

He drove for three blocks, and parked in a residential area he knew his parents never drove by. Silently thanking Harry for providing him with an emergency Portkey in both his car and home, Dudley locked the car doors, opened the glove box, grabbed the old, obviously empty pen at the back of the glove box, and disappeared.

He found himself sitting on Harry's sofa. Ginny and an obviously recently arrived Colin were there. "Dudley, what's going on?" asked Colin.

"We need a phoenix," said Dudley. "We have to find Arthur, ask him to let us use Fawkes." A second later, the phoenix that Dudley had seen a few times recently suddenly appeared; Dudley glanced at her in surprise. "Well, obviously, it doesn't have to be Fawkes," he amended. "Thanks," he added, to the phoenix. "Could you take us to the Potions dungeon--"

"He won't be there, it's quarter to ten," pointed out Colin. "He'll be in his quarters."

"Okay, take us to his quarters."

"Outside his quarters, or in his quarters?" asked Colin. Ginny was clearly wondering why they needed Snape, but motivated by Dudley's urgency not to ask.

"In his quarters. This can't wait," confirmed Dudley. Colin nodded, they grabbed the phoenix's tail, and were soon face to face with a startled Severus Snape. "This had better be good," he growled as he put down his book and stood.

As quickly as he could, Dudley explained what had happened. Without hesitation, Snape looked at the phoenix. "Please bring the headmistress." The phoenix disappeared, and came back a few seconds later with Hermione, who was in a nightgown, obviously ready for bed. "Headmistress, I need your ring."

She quickly took it off and handed it to him. "What's going on?"

"They can brief you when they brief the Minister, which I assume they will be doing shortly. I must go, quickly." He turned to the phoenix. "You cannot take me where I need to go, but I would like you to take me to Harry's home; I need to borrow his Invisibility Cloak." She took off, and both were gone.

Hermione looked at Colin and Dudley quizzically. "Who..." Wondering who was bonded to the newest female phoenix, she trailed off as she got the information from Flora. She looked at Colin, eyes wide. "Colin! That's wonderful! Congratulations! When did it happen?"

He smiled. "About four days ago."

Dudley gave a start, remembering what Colin had told him four days ago, that he hadn't particularly wanted to know. "What, did you go around telling everyone about that?"

Colin chuckled. "Different thing. C'mon, let's go see Arthur."

* * * * *

Snape's short trip to America the previous week had taught him a great deal about the geography of the American Muggle power centers; covered by the Invisibility Cloak, he Apparated onto the White House lawn. He walked towards the nearest group of people, who appeared to be reporters, and started scanning memories for the location of the Secretary of State. Discovering that the Secretary had gone back inside, he briskly walked to the lobby, doing quick Legilimency scans as he went.

He soon discovered that Rogers was in a meeting with the Chief of Staff. Casting a spell to make sure no one looked at the door, he opened it, and could hear voices. "For God's sake, Bob, why didn't you go to the President with this?" he heard. "And do you know what you just did to the President out there? Made him look like an idiot who's easily manipulated by his staff, including you! As if this would've happened differently if you'd advised him differently?"

"It might have!" insisted Rogers. "Because he listens to my advice doesn't mean he's being manipulated. Look, I had to do it this way. I couldn't trust that this guy, whoever he is, couldn't hear anything I said, even if it was alone with the President!"

Snape knew that he didn't have time to wait for the conversation to end naturally, and he didn't want to interrupt obviously. He resorted to a spell that James Potter had once used on him successfully in their little war at Hogwarts: he cast a spell on Rogers that caused the sensation associated with an extremely urgent need to urinate. Rogers was immediately in obvious discomfort, but didn't move from his seat as the other man spoke. Annoyed, Snape then cast a Suggestion Charm, which did the trick. "Excuse me," said Rogers abruptly, standing. "I'll be right back." He hurried from the room, Snape quickly following.

Snape followed him into the nearest men's room, which was otherwise unoccupied. Snape took away the two spells he'd just cast, and as Rogers stood alone wondering why he'd been in such a hurry, Snape cast a Confundus Curse, then Legilimens. "Aha," he muttered quietly, finding what he'd expected: a Memory Charm. Using Hermione's ring, he quickly dissolved it, finding evidence of the scans that had been done and covered; he also got an image of the face of the wizard who had manipulated Rogers. As Snape was considering whether to place a new Memory Charm, and what to cover, he didn't see Drake sneak up on him from behind. A Stunning Spell hit Snape, and he collapsed.

* * * * *

"Enervate," said Drake.

Snape's eyes opened, and he looked around. He was on the floor, and standing in front of him was the wizard whose face he had seen in Rogers' memory. Standing two steps behind the wizard and to his left was Hugo Brantell, with an expression that told Snape volumes. Things began to become very clear to Snape. "And you are?"

"Leonard Drake," came the reply. "Of course, those with whom I share that information either do not leave my service, or do not leave here alive."

"Oh, no," cried Snape, in an openly mocking tone. "Please don't hurt me. I'll do anything you say. Oh, I'm so frightened..."

Surprised, Drake glanced at Hugo, the question in his eyes; Hugo nodded. "It's how he really feels. His attitude is that you don't know what you're up against."

Drake didn't take his eyes off Snape for more than a second, making it clear that he had no intention of letting Snape get away. Snape saw his wand on the floor two meters away, but knew that it was a test, and that he would not try to lunge for it. He would play the game on Drake's terms.

"Is that so," replied Drake calmly. "Well, let's see why." He cast Legilimens; Snape easily kept Drake out of his mind. "You must be joking," countered Snape haughtily. "You know better than to think you can do that."

"We'll see," said Drake. "Crucio." Hugo cringed as Snape screamed, reacting exactly as everyone did to the Curse. After about fifteen seconds, Drake stopped it, then cast Legilimens. His eyebrows went high as he was again shut out. "You shut me out even after just having been Cursed; I'm impressed," admitted Drake. "But you will break eventually. Everyone does. You will be very useful in my service."

Still recovering from the Curse, Snape laughed disdainfully. "I will not be in your service. I will defeat you. If you had a brain in your head, you would kill me now. But you will not; the challenge of breaking me is too much for you to resist."

Drake again briefly glanced at Hugo; again, Hugo nodded confirmation that Snape's outward attitude was the same as his internal one. "You seem to forget that I have a wand, whereas you do not. This may take a while, but I have time."

Snape briefly wondered why Drake didn't just take any information he wanted while he was unconscious, but immediately understood that Drake was far more interested in simply breaking him than in any specific information. As he realized this, Drake cast the Curse again; Snape screamed at the very familiar, though no less unbearable, pain. Memories of what he'd gone through to re-enter Voldemort's service came to him as he screamed, trying to somehow compartmentalize the pain. He knew that most people couldn't even think while under the Curse.

Drake continued it for two minutes, then stopped, leaving Snape gasping for breath on the floor. Snape glanced up at Hugo; he could see the pain in Hugo's eyes, and the sense of helplessness. "Are you familiar with slave conditioning?" asked Drake.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Of course I am," he spat. "There is no Dark magic with which I am not familiar. I assume you did that to Malfoy, but that would have been no great challenge. I do not think you have had enough time to do it to Brantell here. And you will never do it to me."

Drake looked amused. "And why do you think that?"

"Such a shady character as yourself can never hope to accomplish anything great," said Snape, his eyes flicking to Hugo as he spoke the emphasized word.

Mildly puzzled, Drake asked, "And just why am I... 'shady?'"

"You keep to the shadows, like a cockroach; you do not show your face. And you do not see the means of your own demise, even when it is close by. I say again, you would be a fool not to kill me now."

Drake smiled. "It is a somewhat dignified way to beg for death, I grant you, but it will not happen. Brantell would take his own life at the first opportunity, and I see that you are trying to goad me into allowing you to do the same. It will not work, however. You will break."

Drake cast the Curse again; Hugo flinched, but as he was behind Drake, Drake didn't see it. Hugo flinched because he had a forbidden thought; one of escape. There was a way out, it was staring him right in the face. Snape had communicated it to him covertly, using words Drake hadn't understood. Hugo knew what Snape wanted him to do, and he knew he could possibly do it. But his conditioned, wounded mind kept turning away from it, not wanting to face it. Twice he almost moved, and twice his battered psyche kept him rooted to the spot. He couldn't take the chance.

You're going to be tortured anyway, what remained of the person he had been told him. With Drake, thinking about it is the same thing as doing it. He won't punish you any differently if you try and fail than if you think about it but don't try. Terrified, he didn't move. Drake kept his attention focused on Snape, on Snape's pain. He ignored Hugo.

Look at Snape, his mind commanded him. Look at what he's going through, and he's not afraid. He's going through unbelievable pain, and he will continue to unless I do something. He wants me to do this... 'You do not see the means of your own demise'; Snape had meant Hugo, not himself as he intended Drake to think. Saying Drake was 'shady'; Harry had clearly told Snape, as he had told Hugo, about that amusing Ring of Reduction his students had created--

DO IT, his mind screamed at him. Feeling like he was about to jump into a pit of lava, he launched himself at Drake, swatting his wand away in the same motion. Hugo tackled Drake as Drake tried to turn, startled; they crashed to the floor a few feet from Snape, who was recovering from the Curse and in no condition to help. Drake twisted on the ground, trying to reach his wand, which was just a few feet away. Hugo swung his left arm around Drake's neck, enclosing it in a tight headlock. Drake struggled for breath as Hugo tightened his grip.

Snape had recovered enough to take in what was happening. "Brantell! No!" he shouted as he scrambled for his wand. "We need him alive!"

Hugo didn't tighten his grip further, but didn't relax it either; a part of him wanted to rip Drake's head off. It was a very appealing thought...

Drake suddenly went limp under Snape's Stunning spell. "Brantell! Let him fall." In a fog, concentrating hard to follow Snape's instructions, Hugo let go. Drake fell to the floor as Hugo sat, catching his breath, mentally adrift. The conditioning was still strong; he couldn't allow himself to think that what was happening was actually happening.

Snape cast a Full-Body Bind, then wrapped Drake in ropes. "That should hold him, for a few minutes," Snape muttered, struggling to his feet. Seeing Hugo sitting on the floor, gazing into the distance, Snape offered a hand. "Come on, Brantell, up. It's all over."

Hugo gazed at Snape as if he had never met him before. He slowly reached out his hand. Could it be a trick? Could it really be over? It had been so long since he had even entertained the thought that it didn't seem possible. Even believing the evidence of his own eyes was like a leap of faith. Finally, he took Snape's hand, and added his own strength to Snape's as he was pulled up.

It was really true; it was over. Submerged so long, his head was finally above the water. Overcome by emotion, he lurched forward, throwing his arms around Snape and clinging to him. He started sobbing uncontrollably.

Very much taken aback--he had never embraced another man, and found the idea very distasteful--Snape tried to step away, then realized that Hugo was holding him so tightly that he would have to assault Hugo to do it. He cast Legilimens, and got Hugo's recent memories, and his emotional environment. It was one that was familiar to Snape; it was utter desolation, hopelessness, helplessness, a psyche once whole and healthy now deeply wounded. Snape realized that right then, to Hugo, Snape was the light at the end of the tunnel, a light Hugo hadn't hoped for and couldn't have hoped for. Snape felt deep compassion for Hugo, for he knew that Hugo had been through hell. He slowly, hesitantly put his left arm around Hugo's shoulders, holding him, as he kept an eye on the bound and unconscious Drake. "It's all over," he repeated quietly.

As Hugo continued sobbing, Snape cast Legilimens on Drake, looking for memories of the past hour. He saw Drake place the bomb on Marine One shortly before takeoff and make it invisible; according to Drake's memories, it could go off any minute, or might have done so already. Snape briefly considered leaving immediately to check, but he knew he couldn't; it would mean leaving Brantell alone with his tormentor, and Snape would not do that, even for five seconds. He knew Brantell's emotional state was extremely precarious, and being left alone again after he had dared to hope could be crushing. Snape had to deal with both of them before doing anything else.

He started to disengage from Hugo; he put his hands on Hugo's shoulders and gently pushed him back. "Brantell, we have to move now. Do you understand? We're going to Harry's home, you'll be safe. It'll be all right, but we have to move. Fawkes!"

He wasn't sure if Fawkes, now that he was bonded to Arthur instead of Harry, would come, but he did. Snape levitated Drake and slung him over his shoulder. "Fawkes, we're going to Harry's home; please have Flora tell Hermione, and Red tell Pansy, to meet us there. Brantell, grab his tail feathers. Concentrate." Hugo did, Fawkes took flight, and they were immediately in Harry's living room. "Ginny!" Snape shouted.

She came running from the kitchen. "Severus, what's the..." She gaped at the sight of Snape with the captive and... "Hugo! What happened?"

Flora and Red appeared within seconds, their companions in tow. Drake still over his shoulder, Snape addressed Hermione, gesturing to Hugo, who still looked dazed, looking around. "Headmistress! Legilimens, now!"

Taken aback by his manner, she did, and an appalled expression came to her face. "Good Lord," she gasped. She looked as though she had seen a person with numerous and gaping injuries, which he supposed it was somewhat similar to. He didn't know if Hugo would ever be all right again.

He turned to her. "Hermione," he said, and saw her blink at the first-time usage of her first name. "I asked you to do that because I want Flora and the other phoenixes to know. There is something I want them to do for him. You do not know what it is, but they will know what I mean. They may not be willing, but I ask because I think it could help him, and I know Harry would want them to do it."

Hermione concentrated on the impressions she got from Flora. "They're discussing it... they say it would be difficult, because of the condition he's in, but they think it could help... yes, they'll do it."

Snape nodded. "Good." He turned to Hugo. "Hugo, Flora is going to take you someplace, and the phoenixes are going to help you. When it's time for you to go, a phoenix will fly above you, and take you back here. Do you understand?" Hugo nodded. Flora hovered; Hugo grabbed her tail feathers, and was gone.

"What are they going to do?" asked Ginny, confused.

"Something private to phoenixes; they don't even tell their companions about it unless they do it for them. Fawkes did it for Harry once, just before Albus died, which is how I know about it, through viewing his memories." He turned to Pansy. Gesturing to Hermione, he said, "She can tell you about Brantell's condition. I don't want him taken to St. Mungo's unless it's absolutely necessary, and then, only in a private ward; it would be preferable for him to be taken care of here, in a guest room, if possible. His recovery will be difficult enough as it is; his situation must not be made public. Healer Haspberg has Apparation privileges here; she can take a look at him. I have more things to do, but I will be back to check on him. Ginny, find your father and tell him that the man responsible for all the recent strife has been apprehended, and that the American President has likely just been killed. Tell him I will do what I can to rectify the situation."

He Disapparated, and was suddenly in the Apparation detection area of the Auror compound; Aurors were still on late-night detection shifts, protecting the homes of individuals deemed to be at high risk for an attack. Fortunately for Snape, Kingsley was there; he immediately hit Snape with a Polyjuice check. As well he should, thought Snape.

"This is your man," said Snape, hauling Drake off his shoulder and passing him to an astonished Kingsley. "The name is Leonard Drake; he is responsible for all that has happened, including the American Muggles. I must go and try to mitigate some of the damage he has caused, but I will return for a debriefing as soon as possible."

Kingsley nodded. "Drake... two of the ones executed after the broom battle had that last name."

Snape performed a quick scan with Legilimens. "His brother and father."

Kingsley nodded. "That explains a lot. Okay, we'll be expecting you." Snape asked to borrow a broom, and Disapparated.

* * * * *

The North Korean Muggle leader was the leader in name only; he was foolish and simpleminded, easily amused by toys, alcohol, and young women. For mundane functions of leadership, such as visiting schools and congratulating veteran soldiers, he was allowed to function as the leader of the government. For anything that truly mattered, however, one of the true leaders assumed his form via Polyjuice Potion to interact with their Muggle subordinates.

That wizard was in the leader's office when a subordinate entered and bowed. "Marine One has crashed, sir. The President's death has not been confirmed, but it is all but certain."

The wizard nodded and dismissed the man. He Apparated to the outside of the military planning area, then entered. The Muggle military men stood; the wizard only spoke one word. "Begin."

* * * * *

Snape Apparated into the air above Camp David, and mounted the broom as he fell. He was quickly able to see the emergency vehicles heading for the crash site; from his high altitude, they stood out easily in contrast to the countryside. He hadn't expected to get there in time to prevent the President's death, which had probably happened as he was apprehending Drake.

He set out to do the last thing he could in the Muggle world before leaving it to itself for the time being. He Apparated back to Drake's hideaway, Summoned Harry's Invisibility Cloak, then Apparated to the White House. He wondered whether the American Aurors would have established a presence around the very new American president, but he somehow doubted it. Again, he scanned people until he found who he was looking for; fortunately, the man was alone. Snape cast a Forgetfulness Charm on the doorknob; anyone who tried to enter the room would temporarily forget why they had been trying. He knew it wouldn't work for long, however.

He entered the room and threw off the Invisibility Cloak, startling the man inside. "Mr. Patterson, as you have no doubt guessed, I am a wizard. I am here to tell you that the man who threatened you, and who is responsible for your son's death, has been apprehended. I tell you this so you will know that you are safe, and your family is safe. You may take any action you wish without fear of repercussions."

Patterson stared dumbly for a few seconds; clearly it was all quite a shock. Finally, he said, "You're British. Why is an American not telling me this?"

"An American did not apprehend this man, though I suspect you will soon be visited by the American wizards. I should mention, in case they do not, that we now know for a fact that the sarin gas attack was conducted by the same wizard who threatened you. I do not particularly care, but you may want to re-evaluate your war with Iran, based on this information."

Patterson paused, taking it all in. "Do you have proof?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "No, I do not. Nothing that you would consider proof, anyway. Do feel free to continue your war, if it pleases you."

"I didn't mean that," said the American quickly. "I didn't think this was a good idea. I'd just like something I can take to the people."

"You are about to become the American leader, Mr. Patterson. Lead the people." Politicians, thought Snape as he Disapparated.

Patterson walked to the door and opened it; the Chief of Staff hurried up to him. "There you are. Mr. Vice-President, are you ready to be sworn in?"

"Yes, I am. Have they recovered the football from the crash site?"

"Yes, sir. The Joint Chiefs have informed me that North Korea has just launched four nuclear missiles at the South. Impact estimated in five minutes."

Patterson felt the weight of the enormous responsibility of what he was about to do, but at least he was free to act as he saw fit. "Make sure they open that thing right away. I want those launch codes ready."

* * * * *

Snape Apparated to the Burrow's living room, where he found Arthur, Dudley, Colin, and Luna sitting around Arthur's computer. "The President is dead," he announced.

"We know, it's all over the news websites," said Colin.

Dudley had his cell phone out, holding it to his ear as he looked as the screen. "I'm holding on for--" He abruptly looked down. "Mr. Barclay?"

"Yes, Mr. Dursley. What information do you have?"

"One of our people just caught the man who did all this. The sarin attack, everything."

"Excellent, Mr. Dursley. I am most gratified to hear it, but we have a new problem now. Do you know of North Korea's attack against the South?"

"Only what I've seen on the news, just rumors so far. Has it happened?"

"I'm afraid so. I've just been informed that South Korea has launched what appear to be four nuclear weapons; they may be striking their targets at any time. Does this man have anything to do with that?"

Dudley repeated the information and question aloud; Luna looked horrified as Snape took the phone from Dudley. "This is Severus Snape speaking, Mr. Barclay. Yes, the man in question suggested the attack to the wizards who control Muggle North Korea, and--"

Snape stopped speaking as he saw Dudley and Arthur frozen, unmoving. Snape glanced at Colin, who was moving as usual, then Luna. Luna appeared to be about to cry. "Wizards," she repeated. "Wizards just launched nuclear weapons at Muggles..."

Colin looked at her sorrowfully. "Luna, you can't--"

"How many will die?" she asked him.

"Luna--"

"How many?" she demanded, raising her voice.

He sighed. "At least a hundred thousand, probably more."

She shook her head. "I can't allow that. If it were wizards fighting wizards, or Muggles fighting Muggles, I wouldn't do anything. But wizards are supposed to stay out of Muggle affairs. This Drake has already caused one war, and he's helping start another. This isn't right."

"You shouldn't do it, Luna," repeated Colin earnestly.

"Would you, if you were me?" she asked. He didn't answer. "You'd let a hundred thousand people die, just so I wouldn't have to break the rule I made for myself?"

He sighed again, and looked into her eyes. "All I know is that I love you."

She smiled sadly, and kissed the back of his hand. "I know. I'd probably say the same thing if it were you. But I'm going to do this. I'm not going to let a hundred thousand people die at the hands of wizards."

Reluctantly, Colin nodded. "You can't just make the missiles disappear, though. Their launch has already been recorded. Remember, the wizarding world is a hair's breadth away from being exposed; there's already too much evidence around. If something big--"

"The tipping point, I remember," she assured him. "You said that North Korea was new at making these weapons. I'll do something that'll make it look like they didn't make them right, or something. Don't worry."

"I'm much more worried about you than I am about that."

"I know. I'm going to go, I need to concentrate to do this." She resumed time, stood, and Disapparated.

In her room, she froze time again, sat on the floor, and focused on her remote eye. Looking at Korea from above, she zoomed in, looking for the missiles. It took her a few minutes, but she found all four, frozen in mid-flight. She looked inside them, at their internal mechanisms, but didn't know enough about them to create a malfunction that she was sure would cause them not to go off. I'm not going to let a hundred thousand people die just because I don't know how to make these not work for sure, she thought, annoyed.

She hit on the idea of simply removing all of the nuclear material from them. She knew she could do it, and it would guarantee that almost all the people who would have died would survive. At worst, they would be like normal missiles, blowing up on impact but not causing that much damage. She knew it would seem strange that missiles that others thought were nuclear turned out not to be, but she was sure ways could be found to explain it. She couldn't think of a better way, so she did it. She focused, and the nuclear material disappeared from each missile in turn. Over a hundred thousand people who would have died, now would not. She started time again.

* * * * *

At the Burrow, Snape finished reporting to Barclay on what had happened. It occurred to him to tell Barclay that the nuclear weapons were being dealt with, but it would give Luna away, so they would just have to find out for themselves.

Barclay was now talking to Dudley, but putting him on hold every few minutes while he conferred with advisors. Dudley listened to Barclay, then covered the phone as Barclay put him on hold again. "He says that the missiles have landed in South Korea, but didn't go off as expected. They don't know why."

"That's odd," remarked Arthur. "Good, but odd."

A minute later, Dudley listened again, then reported. "He says that American nuclear submarines have launched a counterstrike. Four nuclear missiles, heading for North Korea."

A horrified Colin looked at Snape, who gestured for him not to be too obvious. "Why did they do that, if the North's bombs didn't work?" asked Arthur.

"I imagine the Americans launched before the North's missiles hit their targets," responded Dudley. "Is that right, Mr. Barclay?" Dudley listened, then nodded. "He says yes, almost certainly."

"I have a feeling," said Arthur grimly, "that when these land, they're going to work the way they're supposed to."

Snape stood, silently gesturing Colin to follow him; they went into the kitchen. "Do you think she knows about the American missiles?" asked Colin anxiously.

"Undoubtedly," said Snape. "She may well be viewing this house remotely, right now. Unfortunately, she can do nothing. She must allow these missiles to reach their targets, unimpeded and unaltered."

"Why?"

"Because anything else would be noticed, and unexplainable," said Snape patiently. "She was able to alter the North Korean bombs, on the premise that they were manufactured imperfectly. Such an explanation will not be possible with American bombs, especially four of them. Particularly after what happened with the Korean bombs, any malfunction in these would be highly suspicious, and be the 'tipping point' you have described. She knows this, and she will know she must allow them to fall."

Despondent, Colin sat at the table. "She saved a whole lot of people, and wants to be able to save more, but she can't because it would expose the wizarding world. Remind you of anything?"

Snape nodded. "Harry, on nine-eleven."

Colin's sadness came through clearly in his tone. "She saw that happen, she told me. She saw Harry, how it affected him, and she didn't want it to happen to her. And now, here it is." He stood. "Luna, if you're seeing this remotely, take me to where you are. I want to be with you."

A few seconds passed, and he was suddenly standing in her bedroom. She looked up at him, tears behind her eyes. He sat on the floor next to her and reached out to hold her; she put her arms around him, and dissolved in tears. He held her tightly as she cried harder and harder into his shoulder. He glanced up at the bedroom window, and saw the wind gently blowing the leaves of a tree. Time was running.