The Future Will Be Better Tomorrow

The Future will be Better Tomorrow: Chapter Seven

Sometime in the afternoon Marcus stepped into the bakery. Admittedly, the bread smelled good. Adrian greeted him cheerfully, and treated Marcus to an apple and cinnamon muffin.

And Marcus wished that none of what happened last night were real. Adrian didn't deserve any of that. Marcus didn't quite know what to say, so he just stood there awkwardly.

Adrian pulled out a chair and made him sit down, which Marcus did. It was autumn and the sun was shining in through the window. Everything seemed to have a golden glow about it.

Marcus looked out of the window, where there was a clear view of the Hogwarts castle. Marcus began to remember the times he had in there, and how they so contrasted with his current state. And everything seems so wasted, he thought.

After arranging some buns neatly Adrian joined him at the table. Not a word was exchanged between them; they just occasionally half-smiled at each other and stared out of the window.

A customer had entered the bakery and was about to make her payment. Adrian got up and walked over to the cash register. An old couple walked past the bakery, holding hands. A group of boys tried to play pick-up Quidditch further down the street. Opposite, a young couple exited Honeydukes, sharing a large lollipop. Some fallen leaves were dancing in the wind.

Marcus looked at the scene and thought; if Antonin were here he would have taken a picture.

Marcus finished his muffin and told Adrian he was leaving. And with a 'see you' from Adrian, Marcus stepped out into the street. He was greeted with the laughter from the group of children playing Quidditch on the toy brooms. Somewhere further up some old women were making their purchases at the grocery.

And Marcus suddenly thought, what if he had to kill these people? He saw the man in a grey tweed coat buy some freshly squeezed pumpkin juice from a cart parked on one side of the street. What if that man was an Auror and Marcus had to kill him? What if he wasn't an Auror and Marcus still had to kill him?

Marcus went looking for Antonin after that, to take his mind off the depressing thoughts. Antonin said that it was a beautiful day and that he would be going out to take some photos. So Marcus followed, and occasionally Antonin let him take a few pictures of his own.

When it was evening they went back to Antonin's apartment, which was in Liverpool. Antonin went into his dark room to develop the photographs, and Antonin passed Marcus the album with the pictures they took just yesterday.

Some of them moved, some of them didn't. This was the same for the other albums lying around, and the photography magazines too. Antonin subscribed to both wizarding and Muggle magazines, and Marcus randomly flipped through them.

Marcus found a photo tucked into a photo album. The photo was out of place, being in an album where the main subject seemed to be nature. The photo was one that wasn't particularly artistic; it was a photo of Rodolphus, Bellatrix, Rabastan and Antonin. The picture did not move; it was just the four of them in Paris at night, probably taken on some holiday there.

Antonin came out of the dark room and sat beside Marcus. Marcus asked him why he didn't develop the picture so that it could move.

It was because Muggle photos captured the present, not the future, not the past, and not anything else.

Because they might never smile that way ever again.

Because there was no need for any more magic, Marcus concluded.

Antonin smiled, and Marcus looked at the picture again, and couldn't decide whether to cry or laugh or do nothing or do both.

Marcus had to leave for work, and couldn't stay any longer. Marcus still worked in the Screaming Banshee, where he could observe the behavioural patterns of mankind.

*

Early next day Rookwood appeared at his door, and told him that he would be starting official duties. Marcus somewhat brightened, finally he was doing something substantial for the Death Eaters. Marcus got changed, and followed Rookwood to the Victorian house that Marcus supposed was the Death Eater headquarters.

Inside, seated around a rectangular rosewood dining table, were Antonin and Macnair. Rookwood and Marcus both took their seats, and Macnair commenced the meeting. First they took attendance, and Mulciber was absent, because he had to mentor Adrian.

Basically Marcus was in the group of Death Eaters that did the strategic planning. Marcus was somewhat glad that Antonin was there.

The Dark Lord had ordered them to plan a large-scale attack; they were going open now. The Second War had begun, and it was time to announce their presence to the world. Rookwood suggested that they attack during a Quidditch game. The effect would be enough to garner enough headlines.

Marcus immediately protested. He thought of the two boys he sat in front of for the Puddlemere-Arrows game. He thought of Wood and the others. If they attacked a Quidditch game the Ministry might suspend all Quidditch games. They couldn't do that, no.

Everyone turned to Marcus, giving him looks that said 'so think up of a better plan then'. Marcus somewhat panicked, and ran through a million different ideas in his head. None of them seemed vaguely plausible. And there was the added panic factor of Antonin, Rookwood and Macnair staring expectantly at him.

"Uhh... Destroy the office for Muggle-wizard interrelations?" He offered lamely.

"That actually makes sense," Macnair drawled, chewing on the end of his quill. "Not only are we telling them that the War has started we display our dislike for Muggles as well."

Rookwood half-raised his hand, and said, "But you know, I don't recall the Ministry ever having a Department for the Harmonious Coexistence of Wizards and Muggles."

"Whatever. Let's just destroy the building!" Macnair grinned maniacally, and went on to say that he didn't care who they killed; he just wanted to see some 'action'.

Eventually they settled down and decided to bomb the Ministry building.

Marcus was relieved to have come up with some alternative. Antonin pushed some parchment that had grids on it to the centre of the table. He tapped it with his wand, and then the map of the building for the Ministry of Magic spread across the grids.

"And how do we do this?" Macnair asked.

Everyone turned to Marcus again.

"Uh, Percy works in the Department for International Magical Co-operation, right? He could, well, er, help us get in?"

Honestly, Marcus felt rather embarrassed talking in front of all these more experienced Death Eaters.

"Well, um, you know, earlier this year, sometime in June, there was this bombing at Manchester? By the IRA? We could do something like that," Marcus suggested.

There would be protective charms all around the building, ones that made it fireproof and so on. They would have to find out a way to undo all the charms, or at least the ones that mattered.

It was a really complex matter. They would have to go about doing it without being discovered. And this wasn't as simple as Muggle terrorist attacks were. This involved magic, which was basically doing the impossible. Then again, impossibility could be countered by more impossibility, and so that was what their plan constituted.

They would have to activate the other 'departments' too. They called for a meeting, where all the Death Eaters turned up. The rosewood dining table was enough to seat all of them plus one, but the extra seat wasn't needed for the day.

The strategy planning team presented their proposal, and the other Death Eaters offered their suggestions. The plan was refined, and then roles were assigned to everybody. The plan was deceptively simple, to have a few Death Eaters remove the spells and sent off to Azkaban, where their escape will be planned. Because of the tampering of the spells used to protect the Ministry building, the Ministry would send out a squad to redo all the spells.

And all the Death Eaters had to do was to use Finite Incantatem while they were redoing all the spells, and the Ministry would be defenceless. Then they could blast the entire building to smithereens.

Rookwood said that the problem was that the Department of Mysteries would not be affected. The powers held within protected it, and so they didn't have to bother about attempting to remove protective charms for that Department. Also, the courtrooms were a level below it, and the gap caused by the Department of Mysteries might affect the overall damage of the explosion. They decided not to bother too much about it, because this attack was primarily one to start off the war, and really, just as long as there was enough damage, it didn't matter how many people died in this attack. So it was decided that they would leave the courtrooms untouched too.

As Percy was the only one working in the Ministry, he had quite a big role to play. Jugson, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle and Travers would sacrifice themselves by tampering with the protective charms and get brought off to Azkaban. This would not only mislead the Ministry that they had caught some Death Eaters, they would also think that they had foiled the Death Eater's plans.

They would then have Death Eaters walk about the Ministry, pretending to be on official business. While in the building they would use Imperio to control the minds of the people redoing the protective charms so that there wouldn't be any.

And on the day itself, they'll put explosive powder all over the Ministry, made invisible through combining the powder with powdered Tebo hide. Tebo hide was expensive, but really, the cost hardly mattered.

Truth be told, their plan had many flaws and loopholes.

It might seem that blowing up the Ministry was a very Muggle thing to do, but really, Muggles were humans and so were wizards.

*

Part one of the operation turned out to be successful. Jugson, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle and Travers managed to tamper with the security charms enough for it to be redo-ed. They were packed off to Azkaban, and for a while the incident was much discussed.

The Ministry was perhaps the easiest place to enter. One didn't even need a valid excuse to obtain a pass. However, all names were recorded down for reference if needed, so the Death Eaters easily overcame this by using aliases.

Some of them would pretend they were at the Ministry to obtain permits for Magical Visas for travelling by magic to other countries. Other would pretend to be making complaints against certain companies, or request that the Ministry remove the Doxies in the Museum of Magical History courtyards. Marcus went in there a few times himself, to cover the Department of Magical Games and Sports by pretending to obtain information on advertising in Quidditch matches.

Marcus would stand somewhere close enough to the Maintenance people to use Imperio to stop them from re-casting the protective charms. Otherwise, he cast a Finite Incantatem while they worked, so that the protective charms were not cast at all.

On the day itself they set about with bags of explosive powder concealed in their robes. They cut open a small hole in the bags, and where they walked they sprinkled powder on the ground. The powder was further spread by the other people walking about, and when they were done spreading the powder they put bags of it in strategic locations, and in the storeroom.

They made a few homemade bombs too, which rather amused them. Through links with people who frequented his pub Marcus managed to find out the addresses of some supposed 'terrorists'. Some wizarding folk, namely the ones that can be found in Knockturn Alley had connections with the part of the Muggle world that liked to cause mayhem as well. It was rather fortunate for the Death Eaters, really. Marcus would very much like to collaborate with them someday, if only because of Mischief, Mayhem and Soap.

There was this Irish warlock who frequented the Screaming Banshee whenever he was in London. He belonged to the IRA, and as far as Marcus knew, he would be of some use to them.

Thus they were able to receive help from experienced bomb makers. Marcus found it quite ironic that the Death Eaters who were supposed to be Muggle-hating were learning from the Muggles themselves. Then again, once they had learnt all they could the Death Eaters would probably have to destroy the Muggle world as well, and what better way than to destroy the Muggle world with methods they learnt from the Muggles themselves?

Adrian was the one who was talented at Potions, actually. Maybe it had something to do with his cooking skills as well. Adrian mostly refused to help, but he did tell them how to make the explosive powder invisible.

Bundimun secretion, Clabbert pustules, Demiguise hair, Re'em blood, Erumpent horn fluid, Fairy wings, Graphorn horn, Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, pumpkin juice, broomstick polishing wax, Weasleys' Wild-Fire Whiz Bangs. And really, they could have used anything and everything, because most failed potions, if failed in the proper manner, result in explosions.

Marcus felt Evil, and he was getting to like it. And he could not be blamed. After all, betrayal was an evil trait.

When they were all done they gathered at the Trafalgar Square fountains. Trafalgar square was quite close to the position of the Ministry. They were in Muggle clothes to blend in with the others in the Square. Actually, most wizards wore a combination of Muggle and wizard clothing; the Muggle clothes were worn under the robes. Still, one might suspect them, for while dressed in Muggle clothes, some of them were too well dressed and there was too much black amongst them.

There was only one Death Eater left, and that was Percy. The Death Eaters had split themselves into smaller groups standing around Trafalgar Square to be less conspicuous, and they waited.

*

Percy looked at his watch, then at the clock at the wall. It was time. It felt so dramatic to him, the whole business of blowing up the Ministry. It was something that he was supposed to read about in the newspapers, not something that happened to him. Furthermore, he was directly causing the explosions, so there was no escaping the reality. He stretched a little, and told his colleagues he would be going out for a walk.

He was immediately bombarded with requests to buy back coffee and some snacks. If Percy felt cranky he would make a show of protesting before agreeing. If he were in a good mood he would agree straightaway. Occasionally he would tell them to go buy it themselves, something they should have done this time.

Today, Percy was in a very good mood, and took down their orders for coffee.

He walked out of the office, and collected his wand from Eric the watchwizard with a smile. Before he stepped into the lift that would take him up to the telephone booth, he threw the scrap of parchment with the orders for coffee away.

He walked out of the telephone booth, and once he joined the sub-group of Marcus and Adrian, flicked his wand in the direction of the phone booth.

And with a rumble, a huge cavity opened in the ground, and chaos ensued.

It felt as if the whole world was revolving around them. The groups of Death Eaters were the only ones not running, staying calm in their position watching everyone panic and run around them.

Percy felt a rush of power. The number of lives that were at his mercy was astounding. Ambulances, Muggle ones, started to arrive, sirens blaring. The Ministry would now have the additional burden of explaining to the Muggles what this complex, unfamiliar building was doing underground of London. And of course, a number of Muggles and their vehicles unfortunate enough to be near the site of the explosion were affected as well.

Malfoy turned to the group of newly recruited Death Eaters, and congratulated them on a job well done. Adrian didn't seem too happy about it; he stared at the hole in the ground with a troubled look on his face.

Then Malfoy said, "Debrief, fifteen-thirty, headquarters."

Percy was somewhat shocked, although he shouldn't have been. A debrief would be a very normal thing to have, but somehow, it just ruined the entire feeling of this situation. But before he left, he thought to all his colleagues trapped under the weight of all the rubble down below, suffocating slowly and painfully to death and thought, serves them right for not buying their own coffee.

And as they left the scene, a Dark Mark appeared above the hole that was once the Ministry building.

Back at the headquarters they stood in place at the garden again, and Percy realised that the debriefing would be worse than he thought. The Dark Lord would be present, something Percy didn't quite look forward to.

It was a cloudy afternoon, with a strong wind blowing. The Dark Lord stepped out of the house, and Percy found that he was as intimidating as he was at night.

"Surprisingly, a job well done. After what happened in the Department of Mysteries last year, you finally come up with something that not only works, but was a success."

Percy could sense a hint of sarcasm in the tone.

"Oh, and I vaguely recall some older members vehemently protesting the addition of new recruits." The Dark Lord said, turning to face the section of Macnair, Malfoy, Mulciber and Nott.

"Goodness knows how you would fail this time if they weren't here."

Percy was somewhat relieved to find that the Dark Lord was pleased with their performance at his first official mission.

"Gloating, aren't you?" The Dark Lord said, snapping his head around to face Percy, who was at the end of the line.

Percy was immediately struck with fear. No, he wasn't. He was just relieved that he wasn't scolded.

"I find it rather interesting, how I can categorise you in groups based on your personality. We have the selfish ones, who put themselves before anything else. Malfoy, Nott, Mulciber and Weasley."

Percy noticed that he seemed to emphasize on the 'Weasley'.

"Then I have the ones who have such great faith in me. Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan." The Dark Lord appeared to be rather amused at the fact that the three people he just mentioned all shared the same surname.

"And I have the ones who are willing to do anything for me, but only out of fear. Avery, Crabbe, Goyle and Wormtail." The Dark Lord paused for a while, to look at the people he just mentioned.

"There's also Crouch Jr., Jugson, Pucey and Travers, who are quite good for anything, really. I have a group of ex-Death Eaters too. Regulus, Karkaroff, Rosier, Snape and Wilkes."

Snape? Percy thought. It seemed rather unlikely to him, but now that he thought of it, it did make some sense.

"Finally I have Dolohov, Flint, Macnair and Rookwood. The ones who can think, but the ones who have to watch out."

Percy noticed the Dark Lord looking at Marcus especially.

"So." The Dark Lord said. "One arms' length, review in by Monday."

With that, he dismissed them and went back into the house. It seemed to Percy less like a debrief than a random meeting for the Dark Lord to pigeonhole them into neat little groups, and tell some of them off.

There was also the essay that was due. Percy felt rather horrified, really. After years of slogging away in school to come up with essays of a sufficiently high standard to hand in to the professors, he expected to be rid of it in his adult life. He had been proved wrong the moment the entered the Ministry though, for he constantly had to draft letters and proposals.

Writing essays wasn't such a chore to Percy Weasley. It was that he was such a perfectionist, that his standards were so high and he put in so much effort even for the most trivial of letters that so much of his hard work was under appreciated.