HP: A Magical Journey

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Like many magical household buildings owned by old pureblood families, the Crouch House was situated in the countryside, away from the nearest non-magical villages: built on privately owned vast lands by those families, keeping them away from what they deemed unwanted.

Voldemort stared outside at the property’s front yard from one of the windows, which had twin gardens on the sides of a paved footpath that stretched from the manor’s doors and the estate’s gate. When he had arrived at the estate, the gardens were lush with vibrant flowers and rich grass spread, well-maintained thanks to the house-elf whose name he couldn’t bother to ask, but now, the same garden had wilted away after the caretaker’s death.

The door behind him creaked open, but he didn’t look away from the window. “Is everything ready, Augustus?” he asked.

“Yes, My Lord,” said Augustus Rockwood. “The preparations are done; the teams are ready to move at your order.”

Voldemort hummed. “Have you prepared well for today, Rockwood? Your role is going to be very important today. You might end up meeting old friends.”

“Please be assured. My old friends won’t be creating a problem today. Most of them don’t know how to wield a wand in a duel. The ones who do know, I’m ready to handle them.”

Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries, to be put crudely, were researchers who spent most of their time in labs, hunched over their research. While the Unspeakables were making substantial discoveries in magic, many of them weren’t proficient in dueling. However, there was a section of Unspeakables that researched dueling arts, and those Unspeakables were one of the real dangers inside the Ministry. After all, Augustus Rockwood was one of the Unspeakables who studied the dueling domain focused on weaponizing magic.

“Did you know I was asked to join the Department of Mysteries when I was young?” said Voldemort. Rockwood wasn’t surprised, given he knew how Unspeakables recruited, but he was highly intrigued by the image of the Dark Lord being asked to join the Unspeakables or even possibly working in the gallows of the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort continued, “I refused them that day. I wanted to travel and learn magic instead of being stuck in a cubicle doing mundane tasks so that my supposed superiors could focus on their research, or worse, waste their and, especially my time, doing nothing.”

Rookwood knew what Voldemort was talking about. He had done his share of grunt work before being able to focus on his choice of research. And he couldn’t even imagine Voldemort doing the same grunt work.

“When does the Wizengamot session start?” asked Voldemort.

“In about an hour, My Lord,” replied Rockwood.

“The bill for the usage of lethal action against my Death Eaters,” said Voldemort, quoting the topic of the Wizengamot discussion. “I still remember you telling how many problems it had caused our tropes the last time around. I should’ve killed Bartemius Senior before he caused those pesky problems. I made the mistake of not doing so last time. But this time. . . this time let us make them aware of what they are about to face.”

“If I may speak something, My Lord.”

Voldemort hummed, which Rockwood took as a signal to continue.

“If we proceed with this, then wouldn’t that sway the vote in favor of the implementation of lethal action. . . that would create problems, especially with Robards and Scrimgeour leading the current DMLE. Even Bones has her origin in the DMLE; she would be more perceptible to suggestions against us.”

“How do you think the vote would go if we don’t proceed today?” asked Voldemort.

“According to what Rivers have gathered, the bill is going to pass today,” Rockwood said. Rivers Lock, the resident Spymaster, had felt around the Ministry using his network of Novellus Accionites and had concluded that today was going to be passed. “. . . He also said there are rumors of George West endorsing the bill.”

“Then you should realize that whatever we do today isn’t going to make a difference. And if there isn’t going to be any difference, why not make the best out of the situation,” Voldemort turned to Rockwood and continued, “Gather everyone; I’ll address them before we leave. If everyone else wants war, let us give them one.”

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“If everyone could take their seats, we can get started with this meeting,” said Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

He roamed his eye over the circular room, looking at those who had inherited their family seats, those who had been elected, and those who had received them as part of their Ministerial designations. He looked at those people divided into the three major factions— Dark, Light, and Grey— and one minor faction of the Minister’s circle.

Dumbledore’s eyes stayed with the Minister’s circle. It wasn’t common in the Wizengamot and the British Isles political scene that the Ministers had their own faction. Almost every time, the Minister was backed by one or two major factions, representing part of the nation’s populace. The last Minister, Cornelius Fudge, was first supported by the Light faction in his first term and the Dark Faction in his second. But Amelia Bones was an outlier in the way that she didn’t belong to any of the factions— she had support from parts of both Light and Grey factions but didn’t exclusively support either. Her true influence came from her work and tenure in the DMLE. She had been so competent and done such good work during a period when DMLE was having trouble finding applicants who passed the Auror and Hit Wizard standards, keeping the reputations of her department so clean and successful that her approval ratings had been off the roof with the populace even without the explicit support of any political factions.

“Ahem,” Dumbledore cleared her throat, “members of Wizengamot, today we have gathered here to discuss a bill proposed by Minister Bones in conjunction with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I’m sure all the concerned individuals already have a copy of the draft and have had the time to go through them to gain an understanding of what it entails. Now, I would give the floor to Head of DMLE Rufus Scrimgeour to place the bill in front of the Wizengamot.”

Amidst the buzzing chatter, footsteps echoed as Scrimgeour walked to the room’s well. All eyes followed the man who looked poised; one look at the man, one could tell that this was what an Auror was supposed to be. Scrimgeour walked to the table in the center and placed some documents in the middle, and the man took his time to set up as if the other didn’t exist.

“Members of Wizengamot,” he started, “today we have gathered here to discuss a solution to the problem that ails our country and every person that lives within it,” he turned to the Dark faction as he said the last part. “It’s not a secret that the Dark Lord,” he said, and the people straightened up, “and his Death Eaters have risen again. They have gotten back to their terrorizing ways of the war days. In the past few months, DMLE has apprehended many Death Eaters, who have been sentenced to Azkaban, but not a single time have the Death Eaters not tried to rescue their compatriots— going as far as to attack Auror guards escorting the prisoners. There have been many more incidents in which the DMLE suspects were caused by the Death Eaters. And, just recently, the Death Eaters directly attacked the Ministry itself by sending an explosive to the Ministry that everyone knows caused much damage. In that one incident, they not only threatened everyone’s lives in the headquarters and so many important documents but also risked breaking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, which would’ve not only endangered the lives of wizardkind in our country but worldwide.”

When the population of one country found out about the magical population, then it was just a matter of time before the other countries would find out about it. It would spread like a pandemic, and the lives of so many people would be risked without them anything. It would bring judgment upon the magicals of the British Isles, and in those times of turmoil, no one would be willing to help them.

“So, on behalf of the Minister’s Office and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I propose that lethal action be allowed against the Death Eaters. Like the last war, I propose that the Unforgiveables be allowed to be used against the Death Eaters, and if in a situation of concern, Aurors and Hit Wizards be allowed to execute the Death Eaters.”

There was a heaviness in the air. A lot of chatter rose up within the room, making people.

Dumbledore raised his wand to the air and shot harmless explosions, making people quiet up. “If anyone wants to question Department Head Scrimgeour, please raise your hand,” he said.

It seemed that a lot of people had questions as hands were raised from all the questions.

There was a reason why Dumbledore had stuck to the Chief Warlock position for such a long time without letting anyone have the chance to replace him. Chief Warlock was responsible for facilitating any discussion that happened in Wizengamot, and it was completely up to Dumbledore who he chose to give a chance to speak and in what order. For a big part, he got to decide how the discussion could go.

Right now, if he allowed someone from the Dark Faction first, the tone of the conversation would turn to one of an offensive questioning, trying to undermine the bill with the aim of scrapping the entire thing. But at the same time, if he handed it to the Grey Faction, Dumbledore was sure they would engage in a conversation supporting the bill, as discord at this scale was terrible for business.

And if he was to give a chance to the Light Faction. . . . Dumbledore glanced towards where the Light Faction sat with complicated looks in his eyes. Ever since he had revealed the truth about Harry’s situation, he had lost the trust of some influential members of the faction, and with it, a lot of people who didn’t know the truth but were followers of said influential people. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he gave a chance by the Light Faction.

As he contemplated who to give a chance, a sudden tremor went through the room. It was so violent that many people shifted off their seats, and entire rows of chairs moved by several inches. Even Dumbledore had to grab onto his chair to not fall off because of the violent shaking.

Dumbledore even heard someone, presumably, an Auror, shout, “Again?!”

Dumbledore’s eyes went straight to the Dark Faction members, and he started to scour the people looking for people who were acting strange. He noticed people who were acting strangely calm in this current situation, especially when there had been a similar incident very recently.

He clutched his wand and let the magic flow as the Legilimency mind magic shot through like an arrow from a taut bow, piercing through the embarrassingly weak defense of the people who acted strangely. Dumbledore started to rife through their memories, and that’s when he found the reason behind the sudden shock.

He immediately stood up in shock and at once rushed towards the door out of the Wizengamot room. Before he exited, he spoke in a commanding voice,

“With me.”

And even those who were at odds with Dumbledore knew he was serious and not to doubt his orders.

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Quinn West – MC – Me not here. It’s been happening a lot.

Albus Dumbledore – Chief Warlock – Likes to be in influential positions.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – We are starting soon.

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The link is in the synopsis!