78 How diplomacy can help
Sirius stood up from the small stone bench in his family's family cemetery. A marble angel with sagging wings, a small epitaph on a pedestal, was all that remained of one of the last members of a glorious family. "You were wrong - but you remain in our memory," the inscription, not carved, but melted by fire into the rough granite of the monument's base.
- Yes, my dear? - The nobleman's face was impenetrable.
- The goblin representatives have arrived," the girl who had taken on the role of voluntary secretary smiled softly.
- Good, thank you for the warning," Sirius stroked his wife's hair affectionately.
They walked in silence towards the exit of the cemetery, it was considered bad form to apparate, disturbing the peace of the dead with magic.
- Do you miss her? - Alika dared to ask when they were already outside the cemetery fence.
- I've only recently begun to realise the value of family. - Sirius' gaze warmed, "And she fought to the last for the Blecks' ideals... as she understood them.
Sirius took a deep breath.
- I would never have been able to change her mind, and our fight was an inevitability, but... she remains my sister.
Taking the girl's hand, the mage apparated to his mansion, mentally ordering the stationary shields to be raised for a moment.
- Griphawk Steelhammer," Greengrass Sr. calmly extended his hand to the head of the goblin delegation who stepped out to meet him. - May the sound of hammers never fade in your caves.
- And may your kind be numerous and glorious in their accomplishments," the wrinkled goblin, wearing a garment heavily decorated with gold and stones, with a heavy steel polearm hanging from his belt, bowed.
- You and your fellows have received my letter," Mark gestured for the goblins to be seated and slowly lowered himself into his chair at the round table. Sirius took a seat to the Minister's right
- Minister," Griphawk began the conversation, "my brethren have read your letter very carefully. And the Council of Elders has ordered me to ask you just one question: are you sure that you will, pardon the word, stay afloat if you start the promised reforms?
- Yes. When the war is over, we will have the most powerful military force in the country, and we will not allow the rotten politicians to continue on the same suicidal course against the intelligent races. Besides. not all conservatives will live to see the end of the war.
- I have heard of the emergency election for Minister of Magic," the goblin bowed his head. - And the events that left the small Wizengamot half of its members missing.
- There's no room for mercy in war," Sirius glared. - These people were willing to throw their country at the feet of a bloodthirsty monster.
- We understand that... - the goblin stretched out. - Just as we understand the fate we would have suffered if the Slytherin descendant had won.
- So much the better. - Greengrass looked intently into the eyes of the green-skinned old goblin. - Now I'd like to hear what the goblins are willing to offer in exchange for our gesture of goodwill.
- First of all, Mr Minister," the head of the delegation began, "we would like to make a treaty not only with you as head of state, but also with Lord Bleak.
Greengrass and Sirius looked at each other.
- Lord Bleck, may gentlemen wizards forgive my cynicism," the goblin continued coldly, "is already, like you, marked by many worthy achievements, but his chances of surviving to the end of the war are somewhat greater than those of the Minister, who is constantly surrounded by people ... including random ones. including the occasional one. The goblin race, having signed such a treaty, would become somewhat... vulnerable should the country's political course change dramatically, and the double guarantee from the Minister and the leader of the strongest political alliance in the country - will allow us to avoid unnecessary worry.
- That's... reasonable," Greengrass finally replied after exchanging glances with Bleck. - In that case, we'll sign the treaty with the three of us.
Mark Greengrass unfolded the first of the parchments with a wave of his wand, reproducing it for everyone at the table. Subtle Runes symbols in the goblin language were folded into the text of the minister's letter to the elders of the underground people.
- 'Well, what do you think, Mark,' the two wizards left the ceremonies after the goblin delegation left. - Was it possible to squeeze something more out of this deal?
- A difficult question, - Greengrass scrutinised the scrolls with the signed contracts. - If they were truly desperate, they would have given the new Ministry the Eaters' accounts.
- Hm, in fact, they've put the Eaters themselves in our hands," Sirius grinned.
- But under the terms you bargained for," Mark shook his head, "no one will be able to blame the goblins, who will remain seemingly on the sidelines.
- Even the fact that tomorrow the goblin banks will announce a ban on withdrawing money by bills of exchange, receipts and other means than personal presence in the bank is already a huge advantage," Sirius leaned back in his chair and snapped his fingers, calling the houseboys to him. - 'Trumpy, get us some wine and snacks.
- Are you thinking of putting a few auror posts in the square in front of Gringotts? - Gringrass grinned understandingly.
- Exactly. - There was a look of impatience on Sirius's face. - Have Brown assign us a dozen or two men, split them into four watch groups. And then... We'll see who runs to the bank for the money and when.
- Aren't you afraid they'll get squeezed out? - Mark rubbed his forehead.
- That's a difficult question... - Sirius took hold of a chicken leg. - If there's a fight, the five of us can hold out for a while, and then the Auror squad and ourselves will be there.
- Who knows, but it's not a bad idea. - Mark stood up. - 'You'd better discuss it with Brown and Ciaran, and I'll go back to the Ministry.
'Great mages are mortal too.
Today, at five o'clock in the morning in his cell died the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, stripped of his position as Headmaster, the title of Supreme Wizard of the Wizengamot, membership in the International Confederation of Magicians, and other offices, titles and regalia, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, former Knight of the Order of Merlin and other higher orders of England, for his war and political crimes.
Albus Dumbledore, since the war with Grindewald, a former symbol of light magic and an unattainable commitment to the ideals of goodness, has dramatically declined in recent years. The failed and uncovered scam with Lord Bleak thrown illegally into Azkaban, the broken will of Lord James Potter, the unconfirmed but thought-provoking accusations of Lord Charles and Lady Doreah Potter's deaths - all of this has hurt his once infallible authority. And the multiple and long-standing irregularities in the management of Hogwarts and the lack of due care for the safety of children's lives, confirmed by the Wizengamot commission, led to the loss of the headmaster's post as well.
Albus Dumbledore, whom we knew as the great wizard and victor of Grindewald, as was made abundantly clear at the international tribunal last year, was far from being an equally honourable man to the European countries and the wizards of the now-defunct Country of Soviets. The wizards east of the Channel had many accusations against the light wizard, preventing him from influencing European politics.
The body of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts," this was the last of Albus Dumbledore's lost posts, "was today consigned to the purification fire in Azkaban.
- Well, that's it," Sirius set the paper aside and grimaced at the onset of a headache, after the ritual at Hogwarts he had acquired a few minor but unpleasant health problems that promised to disappear only with time, unrelieved by any magic. - Dumbledore dead, the Devourers are severely limited in their ability to fund their movement. Sooner or later they will have to attack either Hogwarts or Gringotts. So... All we have to do is gather the men and wait for the biggest battle of all.
- Sirius," Philius Flitwick entered through the fireplace, dust-covered and looking slightly agitated. - I have discovered an interesting thing.
Clutched in the half-goblin's hands was a curved wand with an ornate handle that used to belong to Dumbledore.
- Hmm, what's so interesting about the former Headmaster's wand," both Sirius and I looked curiously at the item Flitwick had received as a trophy.
Instead of answering, Filius deftly unfolded a thick leather-bound book clutched under his arm, titled as: "Legends and Unconfirmed Information on Great Artefacts."
- Doesn't that ring a bell? - grinned the man.
- Deathly Hallows? - Sirius raised an eyebrow. - Do they really exist?
- It would appear so," the half-goblin snorted. - When I remembered where I'd seen a picture of that wand..... And Dumbledore was very reluctant to show his weapon to even the most trusted of people," I guess he knew exactly what he had got his hands on... Then I looked for other Deathly Hallows...
Flitwick flipped through several pages of brief histories of the adventures of famous Wand wielders and revealed an image of a golden ring with a lemon-yellow faceted stone.
- A resurrection stone, one of the gifts of death. Another terrible artefact that brought nothing but grief to its owners, as none of the hunters of raising the dead ever believed that the stone was merely capable of summoning the soul of the dead without an elaborate necromantic ritual.
Sirius, who had been eyeing the drawing for some time, suddenly slapped himself on the forehead.
- That's the ring that Dumbledore and I burned in the chamber where Voldemort hid the Horcrux!
The half-goblin burst into laughter.
- One of Death's gifts had returned to its true mistress. Lord Black, the legends say that you can now count on the White Lady's special patronage.
- And the third of the gifts, the invisibility cloak, is very similar to an artefact kept in your family, Harry," Flitwick looked at me mockingly.
- The Invisibility Cloak... - With a snap of my fingers I summoned the elf, ordering him to fetch the robe, recently returned to me by Neville, who had finally mastered the disillusionment charms in full.
- Interesting," Flitwick spread the thin cloth carefully on the table, examining the few markings on the robe. - There is an embroidered symbol of the gifts, on the underside, and the monogram of the first owner.
- Do you think this is still the third artefact from the set the Peverell brothers received? - Sirius asked, studying the robe with Flitwick. - When James wore it, we didn't really look at it, but it worked.
- It looks like it," said Filius, his nose buried in the fabric. - Honestly, I'm thinking of sending the Elder Wand after the Resurrection Stone.... It brings its owners nothing but trouble, and I'd rather have my faithful little girl.
The wizard's palm patted the wrist sheath that held his own rosewood wand with a core of dragon veins and Veela hair.
- Thinking of drawing Death's special attention to yourself? - Sirius snorted.
- Not without reason," Flitwick nodded, "but the main reason is that this wand is too dangerous. I'll be tempted to use it, others will be tempted to try to take it away, and I'm not as young as I was when I was a dueling champion in Europe. In the hands of others, the wand, if I understand its properties correctly, will not work unless I am defeated in battle or killed by those who want it, so I can't even give it as a gift.
- A substantial reason," the godfather shook his head. - If I were you, I'd think about getting rid of a dangerous and not very useful toy.
- Maybe I should join your tradition, too. - I said snidely, glancing round at my friends. - I have a good grasp of disillusionment spells, if not perfect, at least a good one, and passing it on to children and provoking new Marauders....
Sirius laughed, wiping away the tears in his eyes.
- Yes, that robe helped us to realise for the first time our calling as Hogwarts' chief ... Hogwarts troublemakers... I won't say "major troublemakers and funnymen," as we called ourselves back then - from the distance of our years, it looks very different than it did when we were teenagers.
- Actually, if you think about it soberly," the half-goblin did not support the joke, "it makes sense.... You still have to fight one of the strongest mages of our time, so no additional support will be unnecessary....
- Я... I'll think about it," I said after a moment's hesitation. - After all, this mantle has been kept by my ancestors for generations without leaving the family.
- Think about it," Flitwick nodded, "and I'll try to find a way to return the wand to its creator tonight.
The dark grey vaults of the tiny crypt, shrouded in a soft shroud of dusk and mist, were lit by the first tiny glow of flame. The first flame on the stacked wood was followed by another, for the fire could only be lit with a tinder, which made the process of ignition long and unpleasant.
With a sigh of relief, Christophe tossed aside the remains of the pipe, flint, and flame as the flames began to ignite first the thin chips stacked in one corner, followed by the thicker firewood.
On a huge tripod stuck directly into the stone floor stood a cauldron of considerable size, in which even a man could probably bathe. The tripod was already filled with a silvery liquid that looked something like mercury, and in the far corner of the crypt lay a mountain of bottles, vials, and banal Muggle jerry cans, in which the wizard had brought the individual ingredients for the potion.
- Let's get started," Christophe threw off his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and grasped the hilt of the sword sticking out of the granite boulder in the centre of the crypt.
The wizard's figure was enveloped in tiny bolts of lightning for a second, but the defences set up by the former Headmaster of Hogwarts missed his creator's faithful assistant.
With a toothache-inducing clang, the sword came free from its improvised sheath, and a soaking Christoph sent the blade into the cauldron.
- Father's bone, taken without consent, revive your son," a tibia pulled from the hard-to-find grave of the elder Dumbledore fell into the cauldron with a muffled splash. To find the grave of the wizard buried in Azkaban, Christophe had to struggle.
- The flesh of a servant, freely given, help your master," Dumbledore's House elf cut off his ear in cold blood, throwing it into the cauldron, and then, stopping the blood with a snap of his fingers, stared greedily again at the vapour rising from the cauldron, which had turned crimson red.
- The blood of your enemy, forcefully taken away, resurrect your adversary. - Into the cauldron, poured from a small vial, went the blood Christophe had collected from the body of the Death Eaters he had subsequently killed.
The crypt filled with smoke, dissipating after a few minutes.
- Pass me my clothes," a creaky, aged voice broke the silence.
- Master! - the House elf shrieked with joy, sending the snow-white robe over the former Grand Wizard's shoulders with a snap of his fingers.
- 'Master Dumbledore,' Kristoph pointed his wand at his leader, casting a few spells in rapid succession. - 'Your body has been made complete, as far as I can see.
- Thank you, Kristoph," Dumbledore hummed, climbing out of the cauldron. - Where's my wand?
- Unfortunately, your wand has been taken as a trophy by the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, Filius Flitwick.
- You little scum," the light wizard hissed. - He'll pay for this.
- There are other problems," Kristoph replied nonchalantly. - From now on, any money transfers or withdrawals can only be made if the owner of the money appears in person at Gringotts, and there's an auror's outpost there.
- All right," the Headmaster replied as the mercenary put out the fire and removed the traces of the ritual. - I have money for the first time, and then I'll find a way to get to the goblins bypassing the outposts.
Christoph pulled a blackened piece of metal from the cauldron and grimaced: the priceless artefact had been destroyed.
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