CHAPTER 110: NEGOTIATIONS, PT 2

Hermione tensed, ready to whip out her wand and slow the staff's momentum before it would cause a national riot by breaking Queen Elizabeth's leg, but the precaution was unnecessary. Harry had warned her of this move and so she had been prepared, but looking to the side, it was quite evident that he had not seen fit to inform the others of his plans.

Lucius Malfoy was rapidly moving from wide-eyed shock to seething anger. Pius Thicknesse looked like he'd just had a bucket of cold water dunked over his head. Draco was staring at Harry in absolute horror. Professor Dumbledore did manage to keep smiling genially, but the smile definitely looked a little frozen.

Do not react! came Harry's silent command. And compose yourselves! Remember: there is a whole art form of manipulating others by allowing them to be dominant over you. This is only the start.

You are playing with fire, Potter! Malfoy hissed, but he did recover his stature and acted like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. So did Thicknesse. Only Draco still looked upset, but then, he was the only one who couldn't die on the spot for annoying Harry.

The staff fell on the ground before her feet with a gentle clatter. The Queen's eyes snapped up to the wizards' faces. Shock, anger... only for a brief moment, to be almost instantly replaced by complete calm. Only the other young boy's face still betrayed his consternation. She could almost think she'd been mistaken about the expression on the adults' faces, but she had seen it, and the others must have too.

Could it be that the child was actually in charge? And that he had taken a step of this magnitude without consulting his companions?

No, surely not. The magical government could not be so void of common sense as to put their fate in the hands of a teenager, especially not without putting checks on him. If they had, they would now be very sorry indeed. But it was unlikely. Wizards could take on the appearance of anyone they chose; more than likely the child was a powerful adult mage with a deeper plan. Everything could be an act, and probably was.

No, this surrender was not promising, not under these circumstances. It was too obviously a plot. The question was: who or what was the plot against?

She just stopped her hand from moving towards the amulet that hung over her heart. The amulet her father had passed to her, the reason she had asked the Prime Minister to lead today's mission. The amulet which was supposed to give protection against, and control over, magic users.

If only she had any clue on how to use it.

"So... you... surrender?" the man who had been introduced as John Locker spoke after some long moments of silence. "You will remit all magic users to our custody, and cast the spells we ask you to?"

"I said surrender, sir," Harry said coolly. "Not slavery. As we are all humans – and indeed, most of us are British citizens – we have rights by national and international law, and your own legal code forbids you from discriminating against magic users based solely on their ability. But the Ministry of Magic will come under your authority, and our people shall be required to abide by your laws and courts. We will provide complete transparency as to how our world and magic in general function, except in those cases where the knowledge would be dangerous, as previously explained. You will be able to pass laws restricting magic use, and have our magical law enforcement office at your disposal to enforce them."

Even without a wand, no Muggle jail could ever hold a wizard, Thicknesse observed.

I know, Harry replied. So they'll need our help. That's what I'm counting on.

So you're just giving everything away on the off-chance you'll be able to bargain back basic rights? Draco bit.

Yes, Harry replied acidly. And if it all goes completely to hell, I'm sure your father won't mind shooting me before I sign the treaty. Now will you please stop glowering? You're undermining our credibility..

"As for doing magic on command," he continued as though the brief mental conversation had never taken place. "Slavery is of course out of the question, but I imagine that, if you allow it, willing witches and wizards could offer their services to Muggles for money. To this end, I humbly ask your permission to rebuild our school – which was bombed last week – and use it to teach young magical children how to use magic responsibly, following the laws you impose."

Harry – Dumbledore began, and Hermione's thoughts flashed back to the man's warnings about magic causing widespread poverty in a few generations. Harry didn't respond to Dumbledore, but continued smoothly: "although we may want to talk about those services with various interest groups, and discuss how to set them up without putting people out of jobs, completely wrecking the Muggle economy and turning this into a major political issue."

A woman – Rosaline Munster – bent forward with interest. "What kinds of things can you do?"

Harry beamed brightly. "A fair few. As you already know, there are potions to repair or even regrow limbs and skin; it is entirely possible that our Healers will also be able to assist with other diseases which are currently hard to handle, or at least with diagnostics. We have near-instant travel, and while the magical expenditure increases both with distance and weight transported, I suspect we should still be able to find a way to employ this to drastically reduce reliance on fossil fuels. There are magical ways to force truth, which could be useful in law enforcement – although it would have to be severely restricted for privacy and availability reasons. We can ward important government officials from magical attacks or impersonification. And, of course, it would be most intriguing to see what phoenixes can do for the British Space Program."

He held up a hand. "However. There are not many of us. Thousands to your millions, and the number of qualified Healers, Potioneers and Aurors is but a fraction of that. We cannot solve all the problems in the Muggle world, not even a small part, no matter how much we would like to. I have a list here –" he retrieved a scroll of parchment from his robes, "– with a number of proposals to limit these issues."

John Locker grimaced. "This is starting to sound a lot less like surrender."

Given that you did not see fit to show us this list beforehand, Malfoy growled, I suppose it does not contain an independent magical government?

"These proposals are in your interest, sir," Harry said politely, ignoring Draco's father altogether. "If we allow capitalism to take its natural course, it would soon cause wealth to flow to a select elite of magic users, wrecking your economy and creating enormous friction between those who so happen to be born with the talent and those who are not. What is more, if too many magical Healers are drawn away to healing Muggle ailments, then wizards can no longer be guaranteed magical treatment – which will have disastrous consequences for people's willingness to perform important but dangerous jobs like guarding dragons or growing magical plants, never mind the consequences for potentially lethal magical diseases like Glowpox or Spattergroit. Hence the suggestion that a council of experts from both our worlds should approve any potions given to, or spells performed on, Muggles. For example, for magical healing on someone hurt by strictly non-magical causes, I would propose a 900% tax, which is automatically invested into open research for non-magical cures for the same issue. If magical solutions actually manage to cause a significant reduction in the need for oil, then the cost saving should be invested into the development of sustainable, preferably magic-free, energy, and this should be done in close collaboration with the countries and companies who now mine oil and gas, so nobody loses their job. And truth-potions should be treated with at least the same caution as fingerprint evidence."

John Locker snorted. "Reading between the lines there, you want to put a close check on any magic that actually gets performed for us, and you want a 'council' – presumably your own government – to approve any changes. Surrender in name, but no real changes, is that your idea?"

"Not quite. None of the items on this list are demands," Harry responded, unfazed. "They are suggestions, to avoid a public outcry, a mass exodus of magic users, or a treaty that seems good but ends up accidentally flinging the country back into the Middle Ages or destroying the planet. You can simply tell us all to leave your country or never use magic here again, although if you want witches and wizards to actually enforce this, you will have to make at least some allowances. What I am proposing is simply a solid debate on how to carry on without destroying both our societies." And yes, you guys will get to talk there. "In the end, there probably just aren't enough of us to systemically provide object-level improvements, like healing potions or instant transportation. We want to look at where magic can achieve the most good, and this optimal use will most likely be in, or in combination with, scientific research. Magical techniques and the knowledge we take for granted might for instance be used to build a space elevator, find a way to deal with nuclear radiation, figure out how the human body works in order to fix aging, discover the gaps in the laws of physics and hopefully even figure out how magic works..."

He trailed off. Hermione, looking sideways, saw his eyes widen, and her wand snapped into her hand almost instantly. She had already jumped up when he yelled: "Get out! Hermione! Draco!"

She dashed towards the Muggles, yelled "Catena Magnus!" as had been drilled into her for the last four days. Waiting only just long enough for the shimmering blue chain to appear and bind the Muggles, she grabbed the Queen's arm and burned them all to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

They arrived in the luxurious room in the DMLE amidst screams and outbursts of "What?" and "How dare you –".

"I'm sorry!" Hermione exclaimed. "I think he was coming! I had to get you out!"

"The agreement was no magic on us!" John Locker shouted, even as Hillary Toney asked "who was coming?"

Hermione stepped back, pushing down her panic, trying to find words to explain. Of course they wouldn't understand, they didn't know... "The dark wizard, the one Harry talked about, he was coming. I had to get you away, it was my duty."

"You knew he might attack us?"

"I demand to be brought back!"

"No!" She yelled. "He'll kill you!" She had just abducted the Queen and several high-level diplomats. It could be enough to cause a war, if handled badly, but how could she make them see that it had been absolute necessary?

The Queen made a calming gesture with her hand.

"How old are you, child?"

"T-twelve."

"And how did a young girl like you get roped into this war?"

"I'm a friend of Harry's," she answered. "I mean, Lord Potter. And there's only two people in the country with a phoenix, and so I had to come, so I could get any Muggle representatives out if You-Know-W- I mean, the dark wizard, should find out what Harry was doing and take offense."

Before the Queen could ask anything else, a woman had appeared in the doorway.

"Ah, Miss Granger," she said briskly. "I'm glad you got them all out, the man cast anti-Apparition and anti-Phoenix spells only moments after. Your Majesty –" she curtsied to the Queen, "– honorable representatives, we do apologize for the inconvenience."

"And who are you?" John Locker asked warily.

"I am Emmeline Vance, an Auror – you might say senior police officer. The dark wizard Lord Potter spoke of has attacked Windsor Palace. That's an extraordinary risk for him to take; as we speak, our people are guarding the palace with our strongest wards to stop him escaping, and he will have to get past the most powerful wizard in the world to get out. We hope to have the situation under control within the hour, and then, if you are still willing, we might be able to resume peace negotiations without interference from a powerful madman bent on causing chaos. In the meantime, can I offer you some refreshments?"

She waved her wand, and four long sofas appeared, as well as a grand, throne-like but soft, one-person couch and a child-sized cushioned chair.

"Thank you, I should like some black tea," the Queen answered calmly, sitting down. "With a piece of lemon, please."

Emmeline Vance nodded, and left the room. Hermione had her doubts about the amount of confidence the Senior Auror radiated in the presence of their Muggle guests, but it was calming. The woman returned within a minute, floating in three large tea pots, several slices of lemon, sugar cubes, and ten crystal teacups.

"Director Bones says that we can channel the television broadcast to this room," she offered. "It will take a minute to set up or so, but we've got one of our technical people on it. I need to go now, but ring the bell if you need anything else, we'll have someone over immediately."

"Wait!" John Locker exclaimed, as the woman made to leave. "Are we prisoners here?"

"Of course not, sir," Emmeline responded. "You may leave any time you want. Miss Granger here will take you wherever you want to go." At that, she turned and left. Aurors probably had something more important to do than entertaining Muggles, now that Voldemort was almost in their hands.

"You can take us anywhere?" Hillary Toney asked Hermione.

"Any place I know," Hermione corrected. "I need to at least have a photograph. But that's one of the things phoenixes can do."

"Can they go to the moon?" Edward Smith asked with interest.

"Well, I haven't tried, but I don't see why they couldn't –"

His eyes lit up. "We will have to try that. Screw the Americans and their space program, with instant inter-planetary travel we could start colonizing other planets in a decade! That's what this Lord Potter boy suggested, wasn't it?"

"Well, I'm not sure it's wise to go quite that fast –"

She was interrupted by Harry's voice as, on the wall, a high-resolution TV projection appeared.

"– figure out how the human body works in order to fix aging, discover the gaps in the laws of physics and hopefully even how magic works... Get out! Hermione! Draco!"

"– figure out how the human body works in order to fix aging, discover the gaps in the laws of physics and hopefully even how magic works..." He trailed off, his heart sinking as the familiar sense came over him.

A feeling of doom.

"Get out!" He yelled desperately. Hermione was already jumping up. "Hermione! Draco!"

In a blur of movement Hermione jumped to the Queen as, on his other side, a confused Draco fumbled with his portkey ring, the wizards behind him sprang to their feet and behind the representatives, a man appeared. The feeling of doom intensified, just as the Muggles and Hermione disappeared and Draco gasped in shock.

The Asian man in black robes was young, and did not look like Professor Quirrell, but it was him alright. He shouldn't have been able to get through the wards, not without at least triggering a warning that someone was casting magic, but perhaps he had been there all along? The Aurors had set up wards to guarantee that, aside from the six-man negotiation committee and a number of Aurors checked with Thieves Downfall, no one magical entered within a one-mile radius of the palace, but perhaps a snake hidden in a magical pouch, handbag or other assortment from one of the representatives could have bypassed those tests... The Muggles had been sitting far enough away from the wizards that Harry would not have sensed the doom. Damn it, why didn't we test for magical items?

"Hello Tom," Professor Dumbledore spoke wearily, wand in hand.

"I'm not here for you," the man said dismissively, raising his own. "Harry Potter."

Let me talk, please, Harry asked. Draco, can't you get out? Lucius?

Apparition is blocked, Malfoy spoke grimly. As are portkeys.

"Lucius, protect Draco and maybe see about getting out of here," Harry commanded out loud as he stepped forward towards the enemy, biting back against the powerful sense of doom. Lucius couldn't help him against his old master, but after Snape had spelled it out for him, he at least had some idea on how to keep the man from using Lucius against him. "But on your life, do not interfere!" He turned to face the former Defense Professor, who regarded him coldly. "Hello Professor."

So are phoenix and time travel, Dumbledore added. And don't move further, or you won't be in my shield.

"This is not," the man spoke in menacing tones, "what I had in mind when I taught you how to lose, Mr. Potter."

"I know it looks bad," Harry replied, "but ultimately it makes little difference. Muggles understand how much magic can offer them, and will easily grant liberties in exchange for the protection, healing and insights into the workings of the universe that we can offer. And if it doesn't work out for us, we can just find another country."

The cameras are still running, Dumbledore warned him.

"What is more," Harry resumed, "this course of action seems to be the best way to achieve lasting peace, not just between Muggle and Magical but also hopefully world peace. If we can combine magic with science to figure out how nature really works, we can collectively transition to a post-scarcity society all the sooner. And then –"

"You haven't got a clue," Riddle interrupted. "Yet you meddle in things far above your head. And what makes you even think I care?"

Harry blinked. He'd been working from the belief that Riddle cared a whole lot about the world not getting blown up in a nuclear war. He had hoped the Auror protections would manage to keep the man out long enough to get to the arrangements he might approve of, but apparently, it wouldn't have mattered.

"You speak passionately of secrets not meant to be shared," the man spoke, his ice-cold black eyes boring into Harry's. "You have seen, a mere week and a half ago, the consequences of sharing dangerous knowledge with those who cannot protect their minds. Five days ago, you have witnessed the results of allowing power to slip into the hands of those who have not survived the lesser trials. And yet you deem it wise to allow naive idiots, tied into ideals of openness and institutional structures based around publishing results for the world to see, to analyze magic? You would squander our safety for some misguided ideal of progress. Do you wish to bring about the end of the world? For you could hardly be more efficient if you tried!"

His wand whipped up, pointed at Harry's heart. "Avada Kedavra."

Before Harry could fully realize what was happening, he was forcefully pushed aside and fell over to the ground. Someone – Dumbledore or Thicknesse – must have rushed to his defense, but Riddle hadn't been aiming at him. At the last moment, his wand had twisted upwards and the green light hit Fawkes. The fire-bird was engulfed in flames, then fell to the floor as a little chick, small, wrinkled and flightless.

There was hardly even time to think. Dumbledore was already shouting a terrible incantation and Pius shot a Stunning Charm at Riddle, who half-jumped half-rolled away from where he'd been standing, and suddenly the room lit up with a massive white flash. A giant white-golden bird sprung from Dumbledore's wand and flung itself at Riddle, but he waved his wand and five bright green snakes appeared, grabbing and biting at the magical bird. He aimed his wand at Pius, and suddenly the man's expression changed and two killing curses buried themselves in the ground to Harry's left and right. Dumbledore turned and blasted Pius away, and in the opening Riddle threw something at the three of them and an enormous explosion tore through the air and through Dumbledore's group shield. Dumbledore stood his ground but Harry was blown backwards by the force. Something else hit him in the side, and before he could respond, heat and pain exploded inside him. He was burning, thrown off his feet, his skin ripped away. He crashed into a wall and fell down in a crumpled heap, on top of his right leg which snapped beneath him.

"Gaaah! Aguamenti!" But there was no response, the magic failing him. He looked down at his hand, blackened and broken, holding the shattered remains of his holly-and-phoenix-feather wand.

A splash of water from Dumbledore dowsed the fire from his robes. Riddle paused briefly, apparently surveying the damage he'd managed to do. Fawkes and Thicknesse were out of the fight, Harry was wounded and magicless, and Malfoy, under orders of non-interference, had crawled into a distant corner where he protected Draco with his own body. Dumbledore stepped in front and a little to the right of Harry, his wand ready. Riddle smirked.

"Let's keep this between you and I, shall we, Albus? It's been a while since I had a decent duel."

"I hope you enjoy it," Albus Dumbledore said coldly. "For it will be your last one, Tom."

"Oh will it?" The dark-robed man smiled pleasantly, as though they were having a friendly conversation over dinner rather than a duel to the death. "You are not as young and sprightly as you once were, old man. Can you still pull twenty hours, do you think? And can you spare the energy to defend others as well as yourself?"