HP: A Magical Journey

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“Good day. . . everyone,” said Dumbledore, his eyes gazing at everyone, stopping on George and the fedora-wearing bodyguard more than anyone else.

A sense of surprise came from both parties. Dumbledore― to see George West meeting the Minister of Magic and the Head of DMLE. From Amelia and her party, they preferred someone from the outside― especially Dumbledore― to know about this arrangement before it was inked and the resources were flowing. They were sure that Dumbledore wasn’t going to get the meeting details, but they preferred if he had no idea at all.

“Amelia, George. . . I’m surprised to see you two together; what brought this along, if I may ask?” asked Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

“Mr. West and I were discussing a Ministry contract.”

“And we discussed a donation from me to the Ministry for the war efforts against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters,” said Geoge out of nowhere.

Amelia, Scrimgeour, Robards, and others from the Ministry turned to George with a shock that they hid after a split moment with all the politician’s skills they possessed. “Mr. West, we shouldn’t talk about this with outsiders,” said Scrimgeour.

“Yes, we should not,” said Geoge, staring at Dumbledore. “But this is Dumbledore, the one who the Dark Lord fears and the one who defeated Grindelwald. I’m sure he would be glad to know the Ministry would be getting the aid that would allow it to resume its proper working without getting into a lengthy yet needless political conflict. These are urgent times that need urgent actions. . . don’t you think so too, Dumbledore?”

“. . . Yes, I think so too,” said Dumbledore.

“I was sure you would,” George said. “The Order of Phoenix was of great help the last time around, and even though they weren’t a legitimate authority. . . a vigilante outfit. . . and had no place doing somethings they did, those brave people stepped up in the time of need for the right thing, for the just thing― what do you think of their contribution in their last war, Minister Bones?”

“Of course, I am grateful for their bravery and courage to stand for their country against evil,” said the Minister, keeping a positive yet diplomatic stance on the matter

“I, too, commend their valor,” said George smiling. “My contribution today is in the similar vein, help my country in the time of need― it’s just that my gold is much more valuable than my wand. I’m simply trying to help. . . like others have done before me.”

Dumbledore smiled positively as ever, flashing the infectious charm, and nodded along; however, the man of words with something to speak on anything and everything said nothing and seemed like he was humbly not accepting the praise. How could he. . . all his ear could hear was the subtext lingering and hidden in George’s words.

“And the Ministry appreciates your generous contribution, Mr. West,” said Scrimgeour.

“I’m just doing my civic duty,” George said with a slight head nod. He turned to Dumbledore and addressed the man for the second time, “Dumbledore, if I remember correctly, you wanted to meet me regarding something. I have time now; we can talk now. I’m sure the Ministry has a lounge that we can borrow for a while. The one in which we just sat down, perhaps.”

“Of course, take all the time you need,” said Amelia.

George gazed at Dumbledore, his stone-grey eyes studying him as he stood under everyone’s attention.

“It is fine; we can meet at a later date at leisure; I also have official urgent Hogwarts that I need to take care of right now before the offices close,” Dumbledore said in a good-hearted tone. “From the gist of it, the discussion you just had with Amelia was a significant one and enough for today― let’s leave some other work for another day.”

George twisted the ring on his finger. “I don’t like to leave work for tomorrow; I’m a busy man, and I prefer to finish as quickly as possible so that I can return home. . . where my family awaits me. I’m sure any office will be more than happy to accommodate Albus Dumbledore even if he’s a little late. . .”

“Oh no, I can’t keep people at work more than what’s warranted; I don’t want them cursing me in their minds as they do my work,” Dumbledore chuckled.

George looked to Elliot, who leaned in to listen to some whispers. Elliot nodded, took out his wand as George approached Dumbledore, and cast a privacy spell around them. He turned to the Ministry people and smiled, “So, I hear the executive lounge in the DMLE serves some great truffle.”

Amelia glanced at the two men under the privacy dome, wondering what they were talking about. If she knew, she would want to scrub the information out of her mind because it would mean saying goodbye to the opportunity that had presented itself today. . . and she didn’t want to get that slip away even if she had to pay the price later.

“What are you trying to do, Dumbledore?” said George, all the etiquette slipping away. “I have been waiting for you to approach for long, but I haven’t even seen a glimpse of your shadow. Is this some play of yours to make me sweat?”

“I don’t understand. . .”

“Don’t handle me, Dumbledore. If you want to deal with me, then do it directly, don’t go blackmailing my grandson. . . but maybe getting to my grandson is all you’re capable of.” George glared at Dumbledore before breathing out deeply. He set his shirt sleeves under his suit sleeves before saying, “No matter. I would make sure my grandson gets out scot-free even without you.”

“Was that what today with Amelia was about?”

“Do you think I need to do this to get my way? I don’t. This country owes me more than enough already. I’m doing this so the megalomaniac is erased from the face of the Earth, and I can have my grandson back home. He has idiotically left home because of that threat of yours and refuses to return home,” George sighed, “the sooner this ends, the sooner I can have my grandson in front of me. . . . If anything to happens to my grandson, then pray to everything divine because I will make the lives of you and everyone you’re involved a living hell. I don’t care if the Order of Phoenix is made up of Aurors and Hit Wizard and think their fellow colleagues won’t prosecute them because of some brotherhood code― I will become the Kingmaker in this country and put whoever can get me what I want on the Minister chair. Don’t force my hand by going public with what you know, Dumbledore, because if you do, I will take away the one thing you love so much.”

“And what that might be?”

“Many might not like you up there, but I don’t mind you in the castle, Dumbledore― so don’t make me change that, for I can make that happen. I know you love the Headmaster chair more than anything in this world, so consider yourself warned― cross me, and you’ll never see the inside of the castle as Headmaster or Professor or anything.”

For decades, Dumbledore had been up in the test polls for Minister of Magic during elections, but for decades, the candidate who could essentially hold the chair in perpetuity had refused to run in the election. It could’ve meant that Dumbledore wasn’t interested in politics, but he was an active member of the Light Faction and the Chief Warlock of Wizengamot. After that, the most likely reason one could consider that was that he hadn’t run for Minister of Magic because that would mean giving up his seat as the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

“I can see where he got that bite of his,” muttered Dumbledore, staring at George.

“What?” asked George.

“Nothing. I noticed that you didn’t pull out of our Hogwarts deal. I notice your people are still there in the village.”

“Don’t for one second think that’s because of you,” said George. “I have other reasons for my people in Hogsmeade.”

“Is that reason called the Daphne Greengrass? You’ve people stalking the place in case Quinn comes to meet her.”

George fixed Dumbledore a stoney look. It was true; he was hoping that Quinn would visit Daphne or he would visit Astoria Greengrass for treatment. The previous plan had been capturing him. . . but after the incident with Limax, George considered talking and persuasion the first choice before using force.

The conversation was over. George was done as he stepped out of the dome and towards the fireplace with his companions following him.

“What was that about?” asked Kingsley to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore’s eyes followed George until he was gone, and the fire settled down in the fireplace. “That was when you get hasty and don’t consider all the cards dealt,” said Dumbledore. He looked to the Ministry company and muttered, “I suppose this is the best I can get out of this situation. What did George offer?”

“It makes me think if I had a wish, I would wish to be reborn as a West. We could really do something with what we’re getting.”

Dumbledore sighed. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Even though George had said he didn’t need to do this, it was clear that he was the reason it happened. And while he directly didn’t get what he wanted, the DMLE got a war chest.

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– (Scene Break) –

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Quinn sat on a bench inside Bristol Temple Meads railway station. Hundreds of people walked past him every minute while he sat there with a newspaper in his hand, doing the crossword. “You’re here,” he said.

Lucius Malfoy, sitting behind him on the joined bench, turned his head towards Quinn and asked, “Do we have to do this here?” he asked, looking disgusted at his clothes. “We could’ve met anywhere, in a forest― why here?”

“Because no Death Eater would come looking in a non-magical railway station,” said Quinn, though the real reason was that he wanted to hold a secret meeting in a busy railway station. “You got something for me?”

“Something big is coming up soon. We haven’t done something this big since the last war.”

“Oh, a big attack, tell me more.”

“Not a big attack― big attacks. We are going to attack Ministry Officials who have been creating problems. . .”

“A series of assassinations; that’s bold.”

“Not a series of assassinations. . . they’re going to be done on the same day,” said Lucius, and Quinn’s brows rose. “The aim is to create as much chaos as possible in the Ministry.”

“How is this going to happen?”

“. . . I don’t know.”

“What? You’re Lucius Malfoy; how can you not know?”

“That’s the problem; no one knows the entire operation except the operation lead,” said Lucius. “We are assigned the targets, and two weeks from Thursday, we will go after them. I was able to get the names, but not how or when they are going to happen during the day. The different teams are not allowed to discuss their plans.”

“Why is this happening?”

“Because of Rivers Lock, you know him,” said Lucius, and he was right; Quinn knew him. “He made it so that no one other team knows. Novellus Accionites operated that way apparently.”

Quinn closed his crossword and pursed his lips.

This was going to be a problem.

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Quinn West – MC – Okay, let’s think about it; I can always clone myself. . . that’s easy enough. . . yeah, super easy.

George West – GrandMC – I’m embedded in this country.

Albus Dumbledore – Headmaster – I should’ve just asked.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – Do you guys know how to insect-proof a room? The monsoon season is approaching in my college city, and I’m not from a place where we get a lot of insects during the rain.

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