Chapter Text
Music: Derivakat - Revived
Part I: The Call for Blood
Terence bit his lips as he waited. Any time now. Any time, and Dumbledore would announce the Hogwarts Champion. They were hoping that Cassius would be chosen. That would shut up the Gryffindors (and the rest of the school).
Of course, he thought bitterly, watching Diggory rise among the cheers from the student body, that was never meant to be.
The 6th year tuned out the rest of the headmaster's speech and was just ready to get up and go to bed (what else was there to do? Yes, he was in a bad mood) when the Goblet acted up. Red flames – weird, Terence was pretty sure the fire had always been blue- erupted from the ancient artefact and a piece of parchment was thrown out of it. Dumbledore caught it and stared at the paper with an unreadable look on his face.
“Harry Potter.”
The room went silent. Everyone – even those from the delegations- knew that the Boy-Who-Lived had been reported missing in September only for the case to be shut down by the MACUSA a week later. Since the Magical community of the United States of America and Magical Britain did not get along very well those days, the MACUSA had been less than forthcoming towards the boy's location especially since the kid had somehow managed to get the dual citizenship sometime in the past. That and, if he was to believe the news (and he did believe that at least because it came straight from a MACUSA Official), Dumbledore was not, in fact, Potter's magical guardian.
Terence was sure that if it hadn't been for the MACUSA's intervention, the Boy-Who-Lived would still be considered missing. Even now, more than a month later, the news was still referring to Potter as “the Missing Boy(-Who-Lived)”. It was annoying and Terence could understand why the Gryffindor would want to disappear. Still, Hogwarts was not the same now.
“Harry Potter?... Harry Potter!”
No matter what tone the old man used, nobody appeared. Terence would have snorted but he knew the power of the Goblet of Fire. If the artefact couldn't summon the kid (and it was supposed to be able to summon its Chosen) that meant two things: either he was dead (unlikely because the MACUSA official had sworn that the kid was alive and well – or at least better off than he was in Britain which had made more than a few bristle in indignity) or he was behind very powerful wards.
Now, that was interesting.
Terence liked Potter. He liked the quiet guy, the natural seeker. He wished he could have played more against the Gryffindor but unfortunately, money can buy you anything – even a place among the Slytherin Quidditch team, a place Mafoy did not deserve. To be honest, Terence wasn't even mad at Flint. Marcus knew that those brooms would do good for them. It was a too good opportunity to pass and Terence had still been injured at the time.
It took him a few seconds to take in the silence that had taken over the Great Hall. Nobody was talking. Nobody was making a noise because of the sudden mist that had appeared in the room between the student's (and guests) tables and the teachers' table.
“What the hell is this?” he heard Cassius whisper.
Graham shrugged, staring at the phenomenon in curiosity. The mist rose from the ground and started to take form until it looked like a giant rectangle almost like a... like a giant screen.
Terence thought that he should have seen it coming. Weird things always happened when Potter was involved.
When it was determined that the screen was there to 'help' the calm came back. Shield and Blade, both Unspeakables who had knowledge on the subject of Magical Artefacts so they were the ones who inspected the thing and deemed it harmless.
It was only then that the screen made of mist... lit up (if you can call it that).
“What – What is that gonna do?”
Terence glanced away from the screen to look at Graham Pritchard, a second year from his House.
He tried to smile reassuringly at him (he'd been told he was good at calming down nervous first years so there was no reason it wouldn't work on 2nd years):
“Well, it won't transport Potter here so it may try to help locate him instead. Or maybe it's judging him as to whether or not he could participate.”
“It's not judging him,” Adrian intervened. “Shield already stated that the Goblet has accepted his participation even if he's not the one who put his name in the Goblet.”
There was no way Potter put his name there anyway. He was not even at Hogwarts and he wouldn't have asked someone to put it there since he did not plan to come back anytime soon apparently (that's what the MACUSA official had implied anyway). Nobody would want to risk their magic like that so it had to be someone else. The Unspeakables already suspected foul play – someone out for the Boy-Who-Lived's blood or something.
That was way more credible than Harry Potter wanting to participate.
// The screen opens up on the façade of a Hospital. Hurried footsteps are heard as the angle changes to show a corridor where various nurses busy themselves with trolleys. A small figure wearing a sweatshirt with the hood on strides past them, barely managing to refrain from running. The figure stops a few feet away from a young man who seems to be in his late teens. //
The guy had piercing blue eyes though only one was visible. He was tall with a lean silhouette but the body of a swimmer. His dark medium hair was styled in jagged bangs and layers shifted over one eye. The boy was wearing an entirely black outfit with a long jacket over it. He looked rather handsome if Cassius said so himself.
Just then, the angle of the camera changed to show the figure's face and Cassius was not surprised to recognize Potter.
// The younger boy takes off his hood without ceasing to stare at the other boy. He's out of breath like he has run all the way to the hospital. //
The way he was staring at the man, it was like he was expecting some bad news, which... considering the fact that he was in a hospital, wouldn't be surprising.
All around him, students and guests alike were muttering, wondering what the hell was going on and why was the Boy-Who-Lived in a hospital, of all places.
It seemed obvious to Cassius that he was there to visit someone but he kept that to himself.
// The unknown male tilts his head to the side, toward the corridor behind him:
“Room 112.”
For a second, Potter doesn't move but then, he nods at the young man and runs past him. He stops in front of Room 112. The door is open. He hesitates. //
Hermione and Ron exchanged a look, wondering what was going on. They knew that unlike what people believed, their friend didn't live with his muggle aunt, uncle and cousin. Well, he did live with a distantly related cousin (a magic user) who was his adoptive sibling. Things were complicated apparently and Harry was pretty evasive about some things but he did tell them a couple of things. They knew that he used to live with his relatives but that they hated magic. That simple revelation told them a lot about Harry's early childhood whether Harry realised it or not. Knowing him, he probably knew exactly what that was telling them but just didn't want to get into the subject. They could respect that – even if Hermione wanted to press him with questions and rage at the unfairness of his past treatment at the hands of his muggle relatives.
They knew that he had left the Dursleys when he was nine and that he met his sibling when he was ten. They also knew that Harry loved his new family and wouldn't trade it for the world.
They got a couple of letters since Harry supposedly went missing. How Dumbledore never realised Harry didn't live with his muggle relatives for years was beyond Hermione but then again... That was Dumbledore. As much as she wanted to deny it, there was something wrong with the way the Headmaster had treated Harry and was still treating him.
Still, even with the letters they'd been exchanging since last summer, their friend refused to tell them anything of importance since their knowledge of Occlumency was rather shaky.
So... They had no idea what was going on. They had no idea who this guy was - though they suspected he was one of his ' distant cousins' (1) or a friend-, and they had no idea why he was in a hospital.
// Slowly, he pushes the door completely open and takes a step forward. He stills, frozen when he catches sight of something. His eyes widen in shock and horror and a gasp escapes him. //
Ron tensed, waiting. He thought he was ready for whatever they would see.
He was not.
To be fair; nobody was.
The angle changed to show them the inside of the room.
Terence gasped, eyeing the screen in horror.
// A lone figure lies down on a bed. Their arms are covered in bandages and so is half of their face. An oxygen mask covers the rest of it. They are connected to several beeping machines. //
Gasps echoed in the room when they saw the image on the screen.
It was a girl in her teens. She had long blood-red hair and looked tiny in the big hospital bed. From what he could see of her face and what didn't cover her arms, it looked like she had taken a beating but worse.
Astoria Greengrass was staring in horror, eyes wide in shock and incomprehension. Terence knew that the Greengrass sisters had grown sheltered but even him, who had grown normally, was horrified. He could tell from his dads' (his father and his papa) expressions that they were feeling the same way.
She looked so small! So young! She was skinny and her face still held a bit of baby fat that made her look even younger than she probably was. He wondered if the hospital was completely muggle or if it was an establishment that catered to people with both magic and non-magical means. It looked like your typical ICU. Terence would know; he visited his uncle after the man suffered from a car crash. He recognized some of the machines that the kid was linked to; a heart monitor, a breathing machine and a monitor for blood pressure among other things.
Ron stared at the screen. The room contained a single person and, from the description alone, he could tell that the teen was Harry's adoptive sibling but... How did they end up in this state?
Meanwhile, Minerva was shaking Dumbledore, asking him if he knew who the girl was.
She summarized afterwards that her old mentor probably didn't know seeing as he never realised Mr Potter didn't even live with his muggle relatives anymore. Horrid people indeed (she tried very hard to not think that she didn't fight harder that fateful night – she'd been mentally exhausted and grieving the loss of students and friends- but she still felt guilty).
// Harry stumbles through the room to stand beside the unconscious figure and all but collapses on the chair next to the bed. A noise akin to a sob leaves him as he hunches over the bed, grabbing the redhead's bandaged hand. He doesn't cry but tears gather in the corners of his eyes. //
Hermione didn't make a sound but her mouth opened in the shape of an “o” as she stared at the sight of her devastated best friend.
// The boy let his head rest against the mattress while keeping a hold of the fragile-looking hand. //
Cedric's chest constricted painfully at the sight. It was saddening to see – two kids, one unconscious and appearing critically hurt and one who seemed on the verge of a mental breakdown...
“Who is she?” he heard one of his classmates ask but no one answered him because no one knew.
What was certain was that she was important to Potter.
The screen blurred. It seems that some time – a few minutes, maybe an hour- has passed and the Gryffindor was leaving the room. The other guy, Jeff, was leaning against the wall in the corridor.
He listened as the boy asked in a quiet voice for the results of the medical report.
“Are you sure you want to know? It's -... It's bad.”
“I think we can all see that, thank you,” a Hufflepuff mumbled, looking sick.
Susan Bones threw him a look. She couldn't see why he looked like he was going to pass out or throw up. Sure, the girl looked very injured and deathly pale but there was no blood and as far as they knew, no missing limb. Then again, she had grown up with her aunt, reading classified files and seeing pictures of dead people whenever her auntie forgot to seal the files she took home with her after a rough day. She had pretty much been desensitized from that (well, no but she liked to think she was).
Terence tilted his head to the side.
“He sounds American.”
“He does,” Cassius confirmed.
It only dawned on them that maybe Potter did not live in Britain. Oh, it could have been the other way around – the American guy was in Britain but somehow, this theory didn't sound right.
(And sure, they had heard about the MACUSA shutting down the case of the Missing Boy-Who-Lived but some of them had thought that him, running away to America was a recent thing.)
“Yeah. I can see that,” he answers, cynically.
“No, but... It was worse when we first found them.”
Harry does not answer but the look he gives the guy, along with a sharp “Jeff” - ah, so that was his name- convinces the guy.
“I'll start with the minor injuries.”
The emo boy started listing off injuries, starting with the scratches and bruises then methodically listing the rest. The kid (could he call them a kid? They were barely younger than him. Oh, well.) had a couple of broken fingers on their left hand and a few broken ribs. They also suffered from multiple stab wounds that had been, for the most part, partially treated before their arrival at the hospital. Most things flew over Miles' (Bletchley) head but some caught his attention; underweight and a flail chest among other things. He knew that term – he had read it in a book over the last summer and a flail chest would definitely explain why they had been put on a ventilator.
The most concerning things besides the flail chest were the last two things and the blood loss. Susan was no expert but she was pretty sure that losing 30% of blood was bad. Especially since you usually pass out from blood loss when you lose 40% of your blood.
The eye injury was also a matter of concern.
“They're already scheduled for surgery as soon as they wake up so to speak. I mean if Red agrees to. Matthias will operate with Daniels and Brown. They're very good in their domains.”
“What are they going to do exactly? I thought you said their eye couldn't be saved?”
“They'll insert a prosthetic. Last model, already paid for by the higher-ups. Pretty sure they feel bad for almost losing an asset,” Jeff mumbles with cynicism and enough anger to cause an earthquake.
“A prosthetic?” Graham Pritchard squeaked, glancing nervously at Mad-Eye who was sitting with the teachers and organizers of the tournament.
Lucian Bole snorted:
“I don't know much about the muggle world but I do know that there is more discreet in terms of prosthetics.”
“Yeah, and this hospital seems mix (Magical & Muggle) which is more common in America, Asia and South Africa. I've a heard lot of good things about advancements in the medical field.”
“An eye injury? Fuck. That explains the bandages on her face,” Pansy muttered, scrunching her nose as if she were in pain.
“Language,” Blaise scolded her gently, a small upturn of his lips showing his amusement.
She gave him the stink eye but she was not angry.
“Asset?” some others whispered in puzzlement.
As they continued to listen to Jeff's report, they found out that the kid (the redhead) had been sedated and put on a ventilator which explained all the machines.
“You know how it is,” Jeff is heard saying. “Ventilators and all of that. It's freakin' uncomfortable.
Adrian didn't miss Potter's wince at that. Huh.
They decided it would be best to keep Red sedated for a bit. The Docs also gave them pain medication.”
“That... That sounds serious,” Seamus stuttered.
Hermione gave him a baleful look.
“Really? I couldn't have guessed,” she said with all the irony she could muster.
Seamus pouted but he didn't dare to talk back when he caught Ron's dirty look. Whelp, those two were too anxious for small banters.
During all of this, Harry's face was slowly drained from its colour until he was white-faced and trembling.
“What about their throat? Was it... How did that happen?”
“Yeah, why is nobody telling us how she got hurt?” a student asked loudly.
Zacharias Smith gave his roommate a flat look:
“I would have thought it was obvious; they're not telling us because they're not talking to us, Ernie.”
Ernie gave Zacharias a dirty look before eventually settling down.
At that, Jeff hesitates and winces.
“Jeff?”
“It was... It was self-inflicted.”
“... WHAT!?”
Hermione stared at the screen, absolutely gobsmacked. What.. ? How!? Who decides to cut their own throat? It was unthinkable! Who even does that?
But then, she forced herself to calm down and think rationally. Considering their numerous injuries, Harry's sibling must not have had much of a choice. But still... Why?
Filius glanced to his left; Minerva looked completely flabbergasted at the thought that someone could do such a thing to themselves. It was beyond comprehension!
“Why – Why would someone do that?” Lina Stuart, from Slytherin, asked in a small voice.
Graham Montague leaned forward towards the small second-year to whisper to her a few reassuring words along with an explanation:
“We don't know what happened to her but, she's been badly hurt. Maybe she snapped or -”
But the screen unpaused and replied for him as Jeff took in the expression on Harry's face.
“What do you know of... all of this?”
“Only what you told me,” Potter replies blankly.
“That's what I thought. Look... Red managed to escape. When we found them, they were lying on the edge of a cliff, not too far away from where they had been kept. From the magical scan, the healers found traces of veritaserum in their blood.”
Harry tenses.
The room exploded at that and some theories started to form. Strangely enough, it was a quiet boy from Durmstrang who was the closest to the truth as he spoke with his classmates and a couple of Slytherin students. At the Gryffindor table, another conversation was taking place.
“So who's the girl exactly?”
“Yeah, I was wondering too.”
“I think everyone was, dumbass.”
Ron, Hermione and the twins kept their mouths firmly shut. Neville did too and Luna saw no reason to enlighten her Housemates.
// The older teen explains that during their escape, someone threw a knife dripping with Veritaserum at Red and the redhead was further injured by it. They ran through the forest surrounding the fortress (a fortress? Where?) before stopping just before they could fall from a cliff. It was only then that their captors caught up with them and questioned them about the codes.
“Wait, I'm lost,” Seamus intervened. “What codes?”
“I'm pretty sure nobody knows, Seamus.”
// Jeff goes on, explaining how mentally and physically exhausted the redhead must have been and that when they had been questioned about the codes and had started to answer against their will, they just grabbed their knife and slit their own throat. //
Lord Hector Greengrass grimaced, both at the mental image and had thought of a child going through something traumatic like that.
The kid had been tortured. Held hostage for a long time if he understood correctly and tortured for information. Children were... Children were precious in the magical world – especially in the wixen world. With the magic slowly leaving them (Hector could read the signs even if most of his pureblood fellows were too prideful to admit it), having just one child was already a small miracle for some families. The Greengrasses didn't quite have that problem like the Malfoys but that was perhaps because they tended to not marry anyone too closely related. That didn't matter though. Children were precious. They shouldn't be hurt and certainly not... not that way.
Next to him, Rodolphus Lestrange cursed, a wince visible on his face while Rabastan went very white-faced.
“Wait, but if they had Veritaserum all along... Why did they wait till Red escaped – a month later!- to dose them with it?”
Hermione blanched:
“A month!?” she shissed, horror plastered on her face.
// Jeff grimaces.
“That's the thing. We're not sure they had it before. We'll need to wait until we capture them to interrogate them.”
“Why is he talking like he's gonna personally interrogate him? He's a kid,” a ministry employee scoffed.
Rabastan gave him a deadpan look:
“I don't know if you noticed Doge but there is something off with all of this. Kids don't usually get randomly kidnapped and tortured just for the fun of it.”
Well, some sick fucks could and would do that but, let's not normalize that.
“But let's be honest, even if they did have Veritaserum, I think we both know why they waited,” the emo boy continues with a dark look.
Harry huffs and looks away:
“Fucking sadistic bastards,” they heard him mutter.
And Rabastan couldn't have agreed more with the kid than he did now. You'd have to be sick to go after a kid. Yes, he knew how that looked, coming from him but to be fair, he hadn't known the Dark Lord would come after kids when he took the Mark. And it's not even like he wanted to take it in the first place. As a Knight of Walpurgis, his father had been pressured into getting his kids to join the ranks even if he hadn't wanted that for them. His older brother had been less reluctant but still not quite enthusiastic when he took the Dark Mark but he, Rabastan, and his friends, Regulus Black, Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier had been going backwards. In the end, they had little choice but to join and that was a part of his life that Rabastan didn't want to think about. Not just because he did bad things – even if Rodolphus protected him from the worst of it- but because he lost his closest friends to the war. Except Evan. Evan survived although Rabastan only found out recently (and honestly, Evan should have expected the hexes and cursed gifts he sent his way for weeks afterwards. How dare he let him believe he was dead!?).
// After a moment, the older teen opens his arms and Harry's nose twitches before he dives into the embrace. He recoils soon enough when his hands feel the fabric of the other boy's T-shirt.
“Ew... Microfiber.”
“Sorry, sorry. I didn't get the time to change.”
It seemed that the other was well aware of Harry's aversion to some textures, Hermione thought with a pinch of amusement.
“Why did you even wear that for a mission?”
Jeff shrugs and grabs Harry's arms to wrap them around his own shoulder so that Harry's hands rest on his jacket, not his T-shirt. //
A few people snorted but Wayne knew the feeling; there were just some fabrics, some textures that he couldn't stand. It wasn't weird! Everyone was different. Wayne couldn't stand wool and velvet. Harry, for some reason, couldn't stand microfiber. That was fine. There was nothing wrong with that.
Others were cooing at the scene; it was so sweet. Now that they thought about it, did ever see Potter hug someone? Sure, there was 1992 when Granger was released from the infirmary but she had been the one to hug him. The Weasley twins were also almost always physically touching Potter (in a platonic way!) but had anyone ever witnessed the Boy-Who-Lived initiate physical contact with anyone?
“Mission?” Lisa Turpin (from Ravenclaw) repeated.
Nobody could give her answers because nobody knew what it was all about. Those who did have suspicions hoped to be wrong.
Because if they were right... they were talking about Child Soldiers.
“That's not all,” Jeff mutters when he finally releases the Boy-Who-Lived. “There's something I need to tell you,” he whispers as he leads Harry away from the nurses. “It's nothing... bad, per se. It's just... There have been a few registered cases in the past, but it's an uncommon case enough that it might attract some unwanted attention if it gets out.”
“Wha -”
“When we found Red, I, hum... I was the one who found them first. Their heart wasn't beating.”
That... That should not have been so surprising, Hermione reflected. It was entirely possible that when they found her they had reanimated her. It was the hesitation with which he was talking that made her pause.
Was there something more?
“They were cold to the touch.”
Oh.
..
OH!
Her eyes widen in shock.
Well, Hermione had heard of a couple of cases but nothing concrete. Then again, most books and articles about that would probably not be found in your everyday library in Magical Britain. All around her though, some were wondering what the guy meant by that.
Hermione rolled her eyes when Ron asked her that same question:
“Honestly, Ronald. Don't you read sometimes?”
“Not about that sort of stuff, no. It's a bit too morbid for my tastes.”
“We're talking about people miraculously coming back to life.”
“Yeah, so? What is this about? What does her being cold have to do with anything?”
She noticed a couple of students eavesdropping on their conversation but she didn't say anything about them.
Instead, she turned contemplative:
“Well, from what I've read, the body temperature loses 1,5 degrees Fahrenheit every hour after death. If Harry's sibling was cold to the touch – even if this Jeff might have exaggerated slightly, it means that they were dead for at the very least a few hours when they 'came back to life',” Hermione explained mimicking quote signs with her fingers.
Her explanation brought back a new wave of mutters, everyone having thoughts and theories about it.
The Unspeakables looked very giddy but Hermione had the impression that they had already been studying those cases before.
“... Cold? As in -”
“Rigor mortis had set in. They're back to normal now despite their injuries but... I don't know. I can assure you that there are no traces of Dark or Black Magic.
At that, the few people who had understood what was going on and were about to accuse someone of just that, sat down, grumbling and sheepish. Others blinked at the distinction between Dark and Black. That was something they would research later because the current Political Regime did not distinguish between those two -they were both banned and prohibited.
If anything, the others were thinking about Unclassified Magick.” (2)
While a few mumbled “rigour mortis” with confusion – even if it was a bit obvious, most were hung up on the last part of Jeff's sentence.
While most people had no idea what “Unclassified Magick” referred to, those who did gasped. Lord Nott was notably gaping at the screen much to his son's astonishment. The Notts were, after all, known for their impassivity. Then again, Theo had no idea what this 'Unclassified Magick' was. He had never even heard of it or if he did, he certainly didn't remember anything about that.
“What's Unclassified Magick?” a small first-year Slytherin asked his upperclassmen.
He was clinging to Cassius Warrington like a limpet and it was honestly adorable. If Harry had been there, Hermione mused, he would have been cooing at the sight.
“Unclassified Magick?”
“Not everyone believes in Gods but there's no denying the presence of a Deity's presence and power. I don't know where the name comes from but that's what our people called it. A Deity's intervention. It cannot be compared to any kind of magic from our world.”
A... What!?
The room exploded into noises and descended into chaos. Unclassified Magick was not talked about much in Britain or at least, not at Hogwarts and nothing much was known. The Unspeakables would be much more knowledgeable in the subject. Seeing how excited they looked, Ron knew he was right. There must have been an entire corridor in the Department of Mysteries dedicated to this... branch of Magic.
// Instinctively, Harry raises a hand to his neck where the beginning of a tattoo can barely be seen.
“Yeah, I figured. You two bear the same mark. Someone must be keeping an eye on you, guys.”
Lord Greengrass frowned when he saw the young Potter heir move but it was the other boy's sentence that convinced him. Those young men knew more than they were saying. And maybe, just maybe, Unclassified Magick had something to do with Harry Potter's survival that day, 13 years ago. Of course, it was only a theory but it was certainly more plausible than a mother's love as Dumbledore told them once. Not that he didn't believe that love was powerful but knowing Lily Potter, if anything, it meant that she might have dabbed into some forbidden magic to protect her family.
Unclassified Magick though... That certainly explained some things. Like the fact that Hector could see Darkness cling to the young Potter even though there was no trace of Black Magic surrounding him or on him. Yes, Hector could see magic but that wasn't something he gloated about. He could see... other things but they didn't make sense. If he didn't know better, he would think Potter was a creature. But it didn't make sense. Either you were born a creature or you became one during a magical inheritance but magical inheritances only happened around your seventeenth birthday when your magical core finally stabilised. Sure, there had been cases in the past of kids getting their creature's inheritances earlier but it was pretty rare.
“Okay...”
The screen blurred and when it cleared up, they were once again in the hospital, still in the Intensive Care Unit. It seemed like a week or so had passed from the last memory.
// Harry is leaning against the wall, close to Jeff. Both are watching the nurses a few feet away.
“How... How many people were involved?” Harry asks quietly.
Jeff tilts his head to the side.
“Not too sure but there were at the very least three people involved in the torture and interrogation – the Filtzberg brothers and a man known as Steel. Then there were the guards. That makes it a the very least a dozen of people directly involved and a few dozen more were pulled along. They probably had the backing of some kind of criminal organisation or a high-ranked person.
Amelia Bones straightened at that. While not magical, she had heard of the Filtzbergs and of this Steel. They had been causing trouble all over Europe and even America as of late. As far as she knew, those three were dangerous men, known all over the world and wanted by both Interpol and the MI6. The Filtzberg brothers specialized in kidnapping and murders while Steel was... an experimented interrogator. He excelled in extracting information. That certainly explained why the redhead was in such a state although... Why? What could they possibly want from a teen?
Amelia knew, okay? She knew that there was something off with those kids. She didn't want to say “Child Soldier” but she was thinking it very loudly. But surely, if the Boy-Who-Lived had been involved in something like that, it wouldn't have remained a secret, right? And Dumbledore would have said something if he had lost the boy? Amelia did not worship the ground Dumbledore walked on and she didn't agree with a lot of things the man said but still, she respected him. He wouldn't have hidden something like that. Right? But then again, who knew how long it had been since he had first lost the boy? Dumbledore refused to comment anything to the journalists and the MACUSA refused to tell them how long the Mr Potter had been residing in America. Information wasn't coming anytime soon and Amelia had to resign herself to try and get answers from Dumbledore. (Still, she had to hand it to the American Wixen, they did respect a person's privacy even if a celebrity's).
Still, Steel and the Filtzberg were dangerous men, there was no doubt about that. The DMLE was usually kept informed about the most dangerous criminals in the Muggle World just as the Muggle government knew about the most dangerous magical criminals. The Filtzbergs were even more... important seeing as they recently took to kidnap magical users. Considering the fact that they were muggles... it raised some alarms.
We still don't know who ordered the kidnappings of Red, Henrik and Santiago.”
“Did you guys find Henrik and Santiago?”
Jeff doesn't immediately reply. Instead, he grabs something from the pocket of his jeans. Two familiar chains are shown to Harry. Shock, sadness and anger flash on Harry's face.
It was grief.
“What? What are those things?” Draco Malfoy asked with his nose in the air.
Hermione grimaced but it was Angelina Johnson who replied:
“Those are Dog tags.”
At the blank looks of most purebloods and quite a few muggle-raised Wixen, Angelina sighed. She was not surprised.
“It's an informal term for identification tags used in the Military. There are pieces of information written on the tag. If a body is too damaged to be physically recognizable, the Dog tags are useful.”
She didn't say much – she could have told them a lot more considering her big brother was in the army and she had a lot of questions as a child. She knew there was other information on a Dog Tag such as blood types but... She wasn't sure they'd want to hear more and she didn't know how much longer the screen would remain frozen.
“So... those guys mentioned are dead?” Zacharias Smith asked from the Hufflepuff table.
“Most likely,” Justin answered.
“Red was still holding onto those when I found them. They likely found their bodies in the fortress during one of their first escape attempts and they got the dog tags during that time. Azza had people search the fortress but no bodies were discovered as of yet.” Jeff explains. “Or at least not the ones we were looking for.”
“Those assholes probably moved them when they left.”
“Language!” Ron heard Hermione scold Harry under her breath. He suppressed a smirk.
“Yeah, but why? Why did they need their bodies?”
Harry shrugs, glances at the closed door of room 112 and promptly starts pacing.
“Aren't they taking too much time?”
“Harry. Jackson is personally overseeing Red. Nobody who has not been screened beforehand can see to them. Believe me.”
Harry nods anxiously. //
There was certainly something... wrong going on, the youngest Nott thought as he frowned at the screen. While he wouldn't say anything, it certainly... painted a scene. First, two teenagers were talking about... dangerous stuff. Stuff they shouldn't be talking about and even less know about. Then there was the fact that a kid their age – or around their age, had been kidnapped and tortured (for who knows how long) and the report that they had just heard.
Then there was the fact that the whole corridor was guarded by armed men.
No but seriously, what the hell was going on? And how was Potter involved in all of this?
Theo didn't know but Albus Dumbledore was wondering the same things.
// A ringtone is heard in the corridor and Jeff curses as he pulls his phone from the front pocket of his trousers. //
“What's that?”
Ron's eyes lit up when he recognized the thing but he didn't want to make a fool of himself so he let Hermione explain it. He did find amusement in seeing the surprised, shocked or even (reluctantly) admirative looks on some purebloods' faces here and there. He'd like to see what they have to say about technology advancements or nuclear weapons. Something for another time.
// He excuses himself and takes the call, taking a few steps back to talk to his interlocutor. Just then, another ringtone is heard and Harry pulls out his phone, frowning at the name displayed on his screen.
Both conversations were hushed and they only heard one side of it but they hung up at the same time. Harry has a blank look on his face.
“Azza called for a Manhunt,” Jeff says.
“...”
An uproar followed that statement. All Amelia could think was how stupid she had been. Of course. Everything made sense now. The Magical World had been shaken back in September when a Call had been made.
The Call was akin to a loud ringing reverberating through every magical place (or at least every magical user – wixen or creatures heard it wherever they were). It was the signal of the call for a Manhunt. They'd heard of a (Magical) Manhunt in Europe in September but the names of the participants and of the hunted ones had yet to be released. It was a historical moment. Manhunts with a capital M were not that common. The last one was eight years ago in Russia.
“A manhunt?” Hermione repeated from a furrowed brow. “Is that even legal?”
Neville shook his head at that. Hermione was a bright witch but there was some important stuff she was truly ignorant about.
“A Manhunt is outside of the legal/illegal stuff. You can't arrest someone for participating in a manhunt or for killing the hunted.”
Hermione gave Neville a horrified look.
“What?” she shrieked. “But – But this barbaric!” she then whispered.
But this time, it was Lavander who explained:
“A call for Manhunt is judged by Magic itself. If you hear the Call, it means that Lady Hecate Lady Themis accepted it and it's deemed legal. Nothing can be done by anyone about that.”
She went on to explain a bit more and by the end of it, Hermione looked a bit less miffed about it. Manhunts were only called/organized to hunt down the worst criminals and while Hermione was glad that the Death Penalty was abolished in muggle Britain, she couldn't help but sometimes think that some people would deserve it.
// Just then, a loud ring is heard throughout the hospital and blaring all over the magical communities across the world. //
Hermione and the other wixen grimaced at the loud sound. They could tell though that the noise had been minimized by the Goblet. Thank God.
// When the noise subsides, Jeff continues, looking straight at Harry:
“Anyone over the age of 14 is allowed to join.”
“I know. I'm in.”
A wave of silence broke through the Great Hall.
Posté le: 14 novembre 2023