CHAPTER 109: NEGOTIATIONS, PT 1

Friday, May 1st 1992, 10:58am.

"Oh man," Draco said, and then added mentally. You are going to look like such an idiot, Potter.



I'm sure Harry will do just fine, Hermione thought primly. "But we probably shouldn't distract him too much while he's trying to hold a conversation."

I can deal with distraction, Harry grumbled. Just don't expect me to actually respond to what you're saying in my head.



The Ministry had arranged communication pins for all members of the negotiation committee. The pins were magical items which allowed mental communication by "thinking loudly". In a sense, it worked much like normal talking: only people who were close enough could hear thoughts you were sending out, and you could moderate your own loudness. The great advantage was, of course, that outsiders couldn't overhear or interfere in the conversation, unless they had a similar pin set to the same frequency, or used some rather sophisticated interception spells.

The three of them had been experimenting with the pins for almost two hours. At first the adults had participated, but they were more familiar with the technique and had left to other duties. The children had carried on, learning how to moderate loudness, recognize mental from verbal speech and ignoring – or even half-listening to – mental conversations in the background while concentrating on a spoken conversation with someone else.

"I've got to go," Hermione said reluctantly. "Lord Malfoy wants to 'clean me up', which for some reason is supposed to take three hours. Do you have any idea what he has in mind, Draco?"

"Probably something to make you look a bit less like a beaver," Draco shrugged. No offense meant.

She humphed. Harry shot Draco a poisonous look. "He just wants to make sure you look your best when representing our world – you know people tend to judge by looks. Draco and I are also getting a 'cleanup' later on. He has absolutely promised me not to do anything painful to you, nor anything that would be hard to reverse, and don't forget that I have the power to rip the magic out of him and turn him into a Muggle for the rest of his life if he turns out to be insincere. Besides, if you're still uncomfortable with him, I'm sure one of the Aurors won't mind watching over you. They must be getting pretty bored guarding my office all the time."

She grimaced, then took Xare's claw and disappeared. Harry suddenly realized that Draco had stiffened. Oops.

I'm sorry to talk so lightly about that, he sent. I was only saying it because I could, and Lucius knows that, so he will not take the risk. That's the whole point of the House Vow, that you never actually need to use the power it gives. You know I wouldn't hurt your father unless I absolutely had to.

Draco nodded. The idea takes some getting used to. You do realize that taking his magic would be just as bad as killing him, right?

I can imagine he would feel that way, yes, Harry answered. But you shouldn't be so worried. It's only for a little while – I have officially given my word to cancel all three servitude contracts after the negotiations are over. What is more, I suspect that someone will propose me taking an Unbreakable Vow to release the corresponding bonds when I end the contracts. All in the interest of the continued independence of the Wizengamot, of course.

And I'm sure that the money to pay for the binder will in no way be traceable back to your father, Harry thought quietly to himself as Draco's eyes widened in sudden understanding. He may not do that if I come out on top, but he certainly will if there is any doubt of my dominance after the negotiations. Although now that I've pointed out to your son that I understand what you're doing, Lucius, you may not wish to take that risk. Not that he had any intention of preserving the bond once it was illegal to do so. But Lucius didn't need to know that.

He removed the pin from his hair. "We might as well stop, too. The magic on these things doesn't last very long, and the negotiations may take several days. For what I understand, they're rather expensive to replace."

Draco quietly followed suit. There were some moments of silence between them, and then the boy spoke up again.

"Harry, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

No. "I'm doing the best I can. I don't know how it's going to work out, but it's got to be better than not trying." He looked at Draco's worried face for a moment. "Are you comfortable with this? I know your father wanted you to come along, but I didn't think to ask for your opinion."

"He did ask me first," Draco said guardedly. Harry waited, and eventually Draco continued: "I'm just worried. What if this all goes wrong?"

"I'm sure the blame will fall entirely on me, and nobody would even think of blaming you and your father," Harry shrugged.

"That's not what I'm –" Draco balled his fists in frustration. "This is all happening so fast! I knew theoretically what Muggles were capable of, but I never expected a war, not so soon! I do want to come along, I might even be able to help, but it's really hard to be excited about anything when two days ago I woke up with broken ribs, lying between two dead third-years. If we screw this up – if you screw this up – are we all going to die?"

Ah. "I don't know. Probably not all, but it won't be pretty." Harry sighed. "You're right, this is big. But going for peace talks is the most sensible thing we can do right now, and I think both parties would really prefer peace over continuing the fighting. The Muggles want to be left alone just as much as we do – the only difficulty is to contain those of both our peoples who aren't content with that, and to create guarantees for the future. We'll just do the best we can."

"And what if we fail?"

"Get out of the country," Harry shrugged.

"And wait for the foreign Muggles to come for us?" Draco grumbled bitterly.

"If they do, there will be other opportunities to stop it," Harry reassured him. "It's a big world, Draco. This is our best chance to nip the whole thing in the bud before it gets any worse, but if we fail, it won't be the end of all hope." Besides, Quirrell would never let it come to a destruction of the entire wizarding world. I think. Although I'm not as sure about the safety of Muggles.

"I guess," Draco said dejectedly. Then he seemed to force himself to push off his dark mood. "Well, let's see what my father has in mind for our 'cleanup', shall we?"

Friday, May 1st 1992, 13:56.

The six of them were gathered in full ornate.

Lucius Malfoy had insisted that they should maintain appearances. By looking imposing, the enemy would naturally assign them superiority in their minds. And so he had dressed them up with the best Madam Maulkin and some of his connections could do.

Harry was robed in white silk, with golden bands running down from the top of his robes to the bottom and a heavy blue velvet cloak with intricate silver draped around his shoulders. In his hand, he held a silver staff, artificially lightened. The staff wasn't actually functional, like the old druid staves had been, but it looked far more impressive than a wand ever could. Lord Malfoy's assistants had tried to tame his hair, but it had returned to its natural state the instant he looked in a mirror, so they had declared that part a hopeless case. After long consideration, Lord Malfoy had decided to leave the scar on his forehead alone, since it helped him look more mysterious.

The others could not look quite that fine, of course, but were still made to look impressive, with green dress robes and silver belts underneath a light yellow cloak. Hermione had been forced to sit down and have liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion applied to her hair – which in her case did work – and Lord Malfoy had even insisted on shrinking her teeth. The effect was stunning, but Harry thought it wasn't really Hermione anymore. She herself didn't look very happy with the arrangement either, although her discomfort might also be related to nerves for what they were about to do. Even Draco, who had been trained for this sort of thing all his life, couldn't completely hide his worries.

Each of them had their wand in a pocket of their robes, with enchantments to jump into their owner's hands at a mental command. The adults had applied the most powerful shielding charms they could to the children, and Albus Dumbledore had cast a powerful ward on the group as a whole, which would hopefully be able to keep them protected from most forces as long as they stayed close enough together. All wore their communication pins hidden in their hair and a small silver knob on their forehead which was instilled with Scrying Charms, to allow the Auror Office to see everything they saw. Beneath their robes, both Harry and Albus Dumbledore wore their Time-Turners, both having saved all their uses. Every member of the team had an emergency portkey to transport six people to the Ministry. And both Albus Dumbledore and Hermione Granger had their phoenix on their shoulder. Muggles would not know the meaning of the fire-birds, but they might still be impressed by their beauty. Or, for that matter, by the cries of the phoenixes, should they suggest something inappropriate.

(Harry himself would, of course, be entirely reasonable. Or otherwise give Dumbledore the previously agreed upon signal to silently put both birds under a restraining charm when necessary.)

"Everyone ready?" Harry asked.

Each adult grabbed the child in front of him by the shoulder. Thicknesse took hold of Dumbledore's left arm; Malfoy took Thicknesse's.

"Go," Harry said.

They burned up and reappeared at the entrance of Windsor Castle, quickly letting go of each other. They stood on a red carpet leading in, with soldiers on either side guarding their entrance.

Lucius snorted contemptuously. I wonder whether they expect to need these guards? His mental voice spoke. It would be trivial to put them all under Imperius.

Don't you dare, Harry hissed back.

I wasn't suggesting we do, Lord Potter, Lucius sent, his face wearing a sleek smile. Merely that we could.

Heads held high, not looking around at the curious Muggles who had come to watch, they walked in.

"Welcome."

The old, richly clad woman bowed her head in greeting. Hermione had drawn in her breath when entered the room, and confirmed Harry's immediate suspicion by sending that's the Queen!

"How do you do?" Harry said politely, and made as proper a bow as he knew how to.

Are you sure? Thicknesse asked urgently, as the others followed in a deep bow, not showing any sign of their mental communication. That sounds like an awful risk they're taking.

Not really, Harry thought back. The Queen is pretty dispensable. Her function is mostly ceremonial, and she has a grown son and even two grandchildren.

"Are you Lord Harry Potter?" The Queen asked. If she was surprised, she hid it well, but the eight suited men and women in the room did not have her demeanor. Some were outright staring, others wore sneers.

"I am, Your Majesty."

There was a brief pause, in which Dumbledore quietly mentioned that there were fifteen hidden cameras as well as the three visible ones, and that the Queen and all representatives had tiny wireless communication devices in their ears.

"Please forgive my companions' surprise. I must confess that we had expected someone older to be sent as the speaker for the magical world. Are you a prince, of some kind?"

"I'm afraid I can only speak for the witches and wizards in this country, Your Majesty," Harry replied. "Not the entire world. And I am not a prince, although I am the Lord of a Noble House – I suppose you might say a duke."

Closer to a baron, actually, Malfoy warned him.

"I mean a baron," Harry corrected himself. "As for my age –" he shrugged. "Our culture is very different from yours. I am considered an adult in our world, not through age, but through... achievement, I suppose you might say." Let them consider the meaning of that one.

Introduce us, Malfoy's voice hissed in his mind. At least one of his party knew etiquette.

"If I may introduce," he said as though it were his own idea, "my friends, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy." He nodded his head in their directions as he named them. "And three representatives of our governing agencies: Lord Malfoy, Mr. Thicknesse and Mr. Dumbledore."

The Queen nodded solemnly, and started introducing the men and women around her. They were ambassadors of some kind; probably not too important, but reliable people to represent the government.

I'm worried about the implications of their sending the Queen, Harry took the time to say (Hermione would remember all the names, of course, so he didn't need to pay attention). There was no reason to send anyone, they could have just implemented a video conference. But the Queen is a well-loved public figure. If she gets hurt, or even if we are just inappropriately rude to her, it will upset the people immensely. And that will help the government to justify draconian measures to their constituents.

We must not be rude, then, Dumbledore suggested.

No. Thicknesse sounded worried. This is a bad sign. They must have an informant who is intimately familiar with our ancient laws. Merlin himself placed the King of England as the ruler over both wizardry and Muggles. Those laws have never been repealed. I would have to look up whether it says 'king' or 'monarch', and how binding those laws are, but when she commands, we may have to obey.

They would not need an informant, Dumbledore suggested. The knowledge may simply have been passed on in the Queen's family.

This is a pointless discussion, Malfoy bit. If those laws still exist, they are technicalities which have been overlooked for centuries. We can ignore them.

She can grant and revoke nobility, Thicknesse contradicted him. As you well know, given that your own family was ennobled by her ancestor. Think about that, and how many of our ancient rituals and customs are tied to family titles. What is more, we cannot be sure that some of our structures will not open to her. If she formally disbands the Wizengamot – if she knows how to do that – will the Hall still open to us? Tread very carefully, Lord Potter.

Harry had no time to answer, as the Queen had finished introducing the delegates, explained the function of the cameras which were live-broadcasting the meeting, and signified to everyone that they might sit. They took place on the lush chairs placed on their side of the room.

"You asked us for this meeting," the Queen spoke. "Can I assume that you have an opening prepared?"

"I do, in fact," Harry nodded. This part he had discussed with the others at length. "To begin with, I would like to express my heartfelt apologies for the offense given by our Minister, Cornelius Fudge, when he spoke to you last week."

The others had unanimously agreed that it would be imprudent to refer to the Minister of Magic as a bumbling idiot, accurate though the description would certainly be. Having watched the recording in a Pensieve, however, Harry thought that there was something deeper to the Minister's behavior towards the Muggle parliament than sheer stupidity. Fudge believed, as a matter of course, that wizards were superior to Muggles, and that they themselves ought to agree with that idea. The Muggles, of course, did not think like that, and responded accordingly. There, the friction was born.

"To start, do you mind if I refer to non-magical people as Muggles?" He asked. "It is the word we usually employ. It is not meant to be offensive, but I could imagine you would perceive it as such."

"If that is your usual phrase," the Queen said calmly, "then you may."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. As I mentioned before, our culture is very different from yours. In Europe, the Muggle world – that is, the normal world you are used to – and the magical world diverged in the sixteenth century, when the International Statute of Secrecy was passed. Given the significant changes in the Muggle world alone since then, I hope you can appreciate the vast gap which has sprung up between the two peoples. What is more, there are not many of us; in the UK, we number in the thousands rather than the millions. Partly as a result, our society is based around tradition, families and nobility, although accomplishment is also valued, both in the form of magical ability and prowess in other areas, such as trade or politics."

He took a deep breath. "In a society so fundamentally focused around family heritage, bloodlines and power, it is unfortunate but probably not surprising that many of our kind look down on those who do not possess magic, and even on those who are magically weaker. Our near-complete isolation from the Muggle world only exacerbates that issue. This somewhat contemptuous view is... pervasive, although certainly not universal."

"So what you mean to say," a woman asked, "is that the views of your leader do not represent those of the majority?"

That would hardly be accurate, Malfoy hissed in Harry's mind.

"If that is the case," another pointed out, "it would seem unexpected for the majority to elect a leader with those views."

Harry looked at the woman who had spoken. "Madam, we have very little contact with Muggles. As such, this is usually not a major political issue. I believe most of our kind don't really think about Muggles at all. For all that we live in the same country, witches and wizards tend to remain in their own bubble. In truth, for most of my friends I could not say for sure how they feel on the subject; whether they think of Muggles as equals, inferiors, people who have a handicap or even a strange species living completely different lives. It doesn't really come up."

Some of the Muggle representatives looked disturbed at that communication. They seem offended. Best follow up on that, Malfoy suggested.

"I think this is mainly ignorance, however," Harry quickly added. "Now that the Statute of Secrecy can no longer be continued, our people – Muggle and Magical – will be able to get to know each other, and overcome prejudices. For a start, little though I suspect any of us would like to see a continuation of the last days, I believe many of our people have been shaken to the realization that Muggles have power too, even without magic."

Some of the Muggles smirked at that, others shifted uncomfortably. The Queen nodded solemnly.

"In regards to that, I believe an explanation from our side is warranted as well," she spoke. "The assaults on your people – and most importantly your school – were not approved by any governmental body. We have traced down the order to Lieutenant General Richard Darrens, although he was supported by several lesser officers in our military. The Lieutenant General seems to have committed suicide after realizing the consequences of his actions, but the others have been arrested. Please rest assured that the act of firing a nuclear weapon on an unknown target will not go unpunished."

Do not speak of Mr. Johnson, Dumbledore warned. We must intercede, but will surely find a way to do so in private.

I wasn't going to, Harry replied. But the culprit's suicide is a hint we should not neglect. It is the ultimate way to stop us from testing whether he acted under the Imperius Curse.

"Thank you," Harry said. Then, to the querying looks, "I am using a spell to communicate with my colleagues in silence, to avoid either arguing in front of you or accidentally supplying incorrect information. In this case, we were briefly debating what your information implies for the intelligence our own people have gathered. I am sure that you are similarly connected with people not in this room."

The Queen smiled. "Indeed we are. Thank you for your explanation."

One of the men cleared his throat. "On this topic, on behalf of the United Nations, I wanted to ask... do you know what happened to the first missile? Our instruments have only shown the impacts of the second and third."

The one you diverted? Harry queried Dumbledore.

A small island in the North Sea, Dumbledore supplied. Abandoned and safe from Muggles or even sea animals. I have done what I could to contain the radiation damage afterwards, in particular by renewing the wards to keep any living being from entering or leaving the surrounding area.

"We diverted the missile to an abandoned island in the North Sea," Harry repeated smoothly. "We hope that our precautions will keep the contamination in hand, but we shall of course supply you with the necessary information to confirm the safety of the waters for yourself."

The man nodded. "We would appreciate that."

There was a brief silence, broken by the Queen. "Perhaps you could explain what has happened in these past weeks?"

Harry nodded. "Naturally. I suppose there are several parts to tell. You remember, of course, the man our Minister told you of – the 'terrorist' as your people said, who has led several attacks on the Muggle world, including one particularly devastating one."

Some people nodded, but he also saw frowns. "Surely you aren't going to claim that all of the violence directed at our citizens was by some convenient madman?"

"No," Harry said sadly. "That would be a lie. In the last week, several of our people have taken part in the violence. This was not government-sanctioned – indeed, we have made several arrests – but was initiated by the people themselves, either responding to the loss of the Statute of Secrecy or acting in retaliation." He spread his hands helplessly. "As I have said, several of our people consider themselves superior to Muggles, but most never think about it, and would certainly not engage in such acts. There are a few, however, some pathetic few, who like to feel superior by showing their dominance over people who cannot fight back so effectively. That is why you have seen wizards attacking Muggles in the streets, biting doorknobs, poisonous mists and other such nastiness – those same people, had they no magic, would be torturing animals or abducting children. It's the same kind of mindset. Our government and law enforcement agency absolutely do not condone this sort of behavior, and there have been arrests, but unfortunately in the general unrest too many such people managed to slip under the radar – which is what they counted on, of course."

He paused for some moments, waiting for his words to sink in, then continued. "The others were acting in misguided retaliation. When Muggles attack witches or wizards, there will be those of our kind who decide to strike back – and they do not distinguish one group of Muggles from the rest. Especially after the attack on our school, and the subsequent attack on the refugee children. Our community is small – with eighty children dead, a large share of our people have lost someone they loved. So yes, unfortunately many have been guided by fear and irrational hatred towards the group rather than the few individuals who actually caused all this harm. It is wrong, but in the end, it is human nature, isn't it?"

They can't exactly fault your reasoning there, Hermione observed as some of the assembled people nodded slightly. Not without having to explain what Muggle citizens have been doing.

"I see," the Queen spoke. "But that is not how this started."

"Indeed," Harry conceded. "This was started by an individual who, it seems, was seeking to overthrow the Statute of Secrecy and create bad blood between magical and non-magical people at the same time. He is the man our Minister referred to as Quirinius Quirrell, although I am quite sure that is not the man's real name, but rather an assumed identity under which he has taught at Hogwarts School for a short period. After being exposed, he has twice attacked Muggles in a very blatant, very hard to hide way, both of which our Ministry ended up covering up in a rather immoral way, because the preservation of the International Statute of Secrecy weighed higher to them than the lives affected. Having met the man, I can only assume that he was counting on this line of action to create hostility."

"You call your own government immoral?" One of the men asked surprised, even as Lucius hissed in his mind about rash comments.

"I called their actions in this instance immoral, as there is little point in denying that they were. Whether or not these actions were preferable to the alternative – violating a century-old international treaty of world-changing impact – is a question for debate. It might be worth observing that in fact a war started within days of secrecy being lost, so some of these fears were not unfounded, although I must confess this might well have been avoided if we'd handled the situation better."

You're overdoing it! Lucius snapped. You're practically down on your knees apologizing for how terrible we are. If you continue acting weak like this, they will try to walk all over us!

The Muggles were clearly thinking on the same lines. Some were looking surprised, others wore smirks, clearly classifying him as a stupid little kid. One woman was sending shrewd looks at the older wizards behind him.

"Well, Lord Potter," the Queen began. "Your honesty is certainly... refreshing. But I notice you didn't mention the events of Monday last week. Is it usual for one person in your world to be able to do such widespread damage in so little time?"

"It really isn't," Harry said decisively. "But these were... special circumstances. Explaining this requires a little background, however. May I?"

"Of course," nodded the Queen.

"Thank you, your Majesty. In the history of magic, we have a long tradition of 'knowledge which is not to be spoken'. Some magic is extremely dangerous, and if you tell people who do not possess the – the skills, or maturity, to handle the knowledge properly, it could lead to very dangerous consequences." He saw some of the ambassadors frowning, so he added: "Suppose for example that a scientist discovered a formula to make an atomic bomb with common household equipment. You wouldn't want him to publish it in the newspapers. In fact, you probably wouldn't want him to publish it at all." There were some nods, some frowns, and some hesitant looks.

"I realize that in the Muggle world it might be hard to keep such knowledge quiet forever. But in the wizarding world, there are many things like that. And therefore we have a long tradition of secrecy."

One of the men snorted. "What you're saying is that magic is so dangerous it should be forbidden!"

"Well, sir," Harry said politely, turning to him. "Would you rather drive it underground, or teach people how to use magic properly and not to explode the country or spill secrets that would achieve that?"

"I suppose I see the point," the Queen nodded. Whether or not she agreed was a separate matter, but she had been trained from birth to be a diplomat, and obviously wasn't going to be judgmental. "Although I wonder how this is relevant?"

"A particular piece of knowledge," Harry explained. "There is – was – a certain extremely dangerous kind of magical creature. We call them 'Dementors'. Pius?" The Senior Secretary to the Minister carefully reached inside his robes and a vision appeared before them. The Muggles gasped.

"Muggles cannot see them," Harry continued. "Yet they can feel them. They suck away life and happiness, and if unconstrained, can reduce their victims to a comatose state which, our oldest sources say, is worse than death. In the best case, this could simply mean that they are brain-dead while their bodies continue to function, as empty hulls. In the worst case, they have lost control over their bodies but continue to live, in constant agony."

That is not the worst case, Dumbledore reminded him.

Shut up, Harry suggested. I'm not going to confuse matters by bringing up souls.

"There is a certain spell to defend against Dementors," he continued. "It conjures up a magical guardian, which will keep the Dementors at a distance and stop them from attacking or affecting people near the guardian. For over fifteen hundred years, witches and wizards have kept Dementors controlled, keeping them away from Muggles, because there was no way to kill them. There was one flaw in this spell, however. It only works if you do not understand the nature of Dementors."

"That they represent death?" A man asked. "That was what the voice said."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Many witches and wizards might have known, but they never spoke of it, for the knowledge would harm other people. Last week, however, it seems this man deliberately broke the rule to not share harmful information. No longer controlled, the Dementors attacked. You have seen the results."

"How did you get them to stop?" The man who had spoken on behalf of the UN asked interestedly.

"Well, earlier this year, I have discovered not only the secret, but a way to destroy Dementors. Most people cannot do it, and naturally I had to be very restrained in telling people about it, as the spell to destroy them required understanding of the nature of Dementors first, a secret which I knew had to be guarded. However, a few of my friends managed to learn the spell. Our Director of Magical Law Enforcement has then sent us around the world to help mitigate the damage. Since no further Dementors have been reported in over a week, I suspect we got them all. As such, this event cannot be repeated."

He was met with disbelieving looks. One man actually snorted. "Convenient. Not only is there a single point of blame for all our troubles, we are also to accept that you, personally, are the hero who saved the entire world?"

"Well, sir," Harry politely pointed out, "there is a reason my people chose an eleven-year-old to represent them."

"I think he's telling the truth, Clyde," a woman spoke up. "I thought I recognized him, earlier. He was in the videos, one of those children with the silvery light. And so was she." The woman pointed at Hermione.

"That's not the only thing we have on video," the man bounced back. "What about all the murders by wizards in those hours?"

"Those people we could not save from the Dementors might have been in unspeakable agony," Harry reminded him. "So a number of volunteers have quietly put them to rest. They intended it as a mercy." He ignored Dumbledore's quick mental warning not to say more; he wasn't planning to mention his own opinion on the point, not unless they asked. It would be good to discuss this with medical professionals, but saying that his people may have been responsible for tens of thousands of unnecessary murders due to ignorance, presumption and a misguided hope to be able to save some secrecy was probably not the best thing to bring up early in the negotiations.

"I'm not talking about that! What about the attacks on London Bridge or the Birmingham Underground? There was nothing wrong with the people there!"

"Oh, those attacks. Sorry. Yes, you're right. Almost all the Dementors in the UK and Ireland were in a single place, which Hermione Granger handled very early on." No need to mention quite how early on. "As such, given the crisis all over the world, pretty much anyone who could make themselves useful was engaged helping out abroad. No one at the right positions realized what was happening here until it was too late. This was again... Quirrell, the single dark wizard intend on sowing chaos."

"There were different people in different places," the man objected. "And women as well as men."

"There is a potion, Polyjuice Potion, which allows the drinker to take on someone else's appearance. I suspect he used it multiple times."

He could see the disbelief in their eyes. In fact, he had to admit that it seemed like a bit of a stretch.

"To what purpose?" A different man asked. "Why would he do all that? Is he insane?"

"Oh, not all," Harry breathed. "He is extremely sane."

He fixed the speaker with his eyes. "All the clues point in the same direction: he intended to start a war. It is not so strange, when you think about it. With a united magical front, we can easily win; with the cooperation of foreign magical governments, I daresay wizards could conquer the entire world. We end up with a peaceful magical utopia ruled by wizards, where Muggles take a subservient place, as many of our kind believe to be the natural order."

There was a brief silence, broken by the Queen's polite cough. "And is that your purpose too, Lord Potter?"

"Oh, no." Harry stood up for full effect, which was only slightly ruined by the fact that he was still shorter than most of the sitting people. "Not at all."

"You see," he spoke carefully (he had practiced this in his mind over and over). "The Ministry of Magical Britain have placed themselves fully behind me. The Wizengamot – our ruling body – have agreed to approve any treaty we create in these negotiations." He lifted the staff, ignoring the flinches in his audience, and took it in both hands. "We can reasonably say that I speak for all magic users in this country."

"From that position –" he threw the staff forwards, where it fell in front of the Queen's feet with a clatter, "I surrender."