Meeting the Mentor

The city of Inbu-Hedj was one of the oldest cities in Africa. The entire continent was divided into five magical provinces based on their geographical location – east, west, north, south, and central. Inbu-Hedj, named after the great white fortifications around the city, was also less popularly known as Memphis. It served as the capital of the North African Ministry of Magic. Like most other magical provinces around the world, they too had long since broken off from the Muggle world, thus leading to a purely magical city being built. Set on the banks of the holy Nile river, the architecture of the city was breathtaking. Ancient structures, statues and temples dominated the various high roads. Tall sculptures of great witches and wizards from history were placed at important places. While the classical language of the Egyptians was mostly forgotten in the Muggle world, it was very much in use by the witches and wizards in the region, but thanks to translation charms and potions, languages had never been a problem for anyone in the magical world.

It was the first week of August. Harry and Daphne had left on their world tour a few days after their wedding. Their first stop originally had been France, so that Harry could meet his mentor, Nicolas Flamel. However, they had received a surprising message via owl that instructed the couple to travel to the city of Inbu-Hedj instead, where the Flamels were currently staying. Apparently, they found out, the old alchemist and his wife did not like to stay in one location for too long.

"It makes sense, I guess, since they have a priceless artefact in their possession," muttered Daphne as she set up her workstation in their hotel room.

Harry nodded in agreement. He looked around the suite they had rented for their stay in Egypt. Even though the Potters had properties all over the world, every one of them was leased out. Therefore, they had decided to stay at hotels during their tour. The current hotel, named after the former magical Pharaoh Cleopatra, was considered by many as the best in the region. Their suite certainly reflected it, and so did the cost of staying there.

"Are you sure you'll be fine here?"

Daphne rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. "I'll be fine, Harry," she said, patting his cheek, smiling at him. "I'm not going to be bored here, you know. I have a lot of work to do. If I need to consult the experts in the city, I'll let you know before I leave. Will that appease you?"

Harry nodded. He knew that his wife could take care of herself, but that didn't mean that he wasn't protective of her.

With a wave of her hand, several devices emerged from within her trunk. Daphne watched in silence as a large transparent glass sheet stood in front of her. Smaller rectangular shaped glass devices arranged themselves on her desk. A quill neatly placed itself next to the device.

2003 was considered by many as the year when magical technology became the main focus for everyone in the magical world. It started as an investment opportunity for Harry Potter when he financially supported a smart and talented witch named Serena Miller. The invention of the wide range of mirrors soon started a trend. Enchanters were what young adults aspired to be all over the world and the results of their dreams were promising.

Parchment and ink were quickly disappearing. Magical computers were on the rise, created by a team of witches and wizards from different parts of the world. They resembled transparent sheets of glass, but they could be modified to suit the texture and shape of the user. It could even resemble a sheet of parchment! Regular quills were substituted for a magical device that could be written on the said computers. The technology of the mirrors, crystals and dicta-quills were all integrated into them.

"What is that?" asked Harry curiously. On the large rectangular screen, there was a drawing of a pyramid-shaped device that was glowing red from the inside. There were runes carved on it, but the screen was dominated by the various mathematical formulae that Daphne had written.

"It's my dream project," said Daphne softly. "It's called an Asthron. I'll tell you more about it once I get my basic Arithmancy equations out of the way."

Harry's eyes widened marginally. The Sorcerer's degree was all about research and innovation. He couldn't believe that Daphne had already started on her project, while he was yet to even develop an idea.

"A little competitive, are we?" teased Daphne.

A hint of a fond smile formed on his lips. "Don't ask questions that you know I wouldn't answer," he shot back. Cupping her face, he gently kissed her forehead. "I'll be back before dinner."

"Good luck," she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. Daphne watched her husband leave and then she dove into her project. She focussed on the simulation of what the Asthron would accomplish. She snapped her fingers. A jet of red light shot out of the tip of the pyramid-shaped device. She nodded in satisfaction.

Now all she had to do was construct the Asthron and make it a reality. Taking a deep breath, she began writing on the computer screen with her quill. Daphne was soon lost to the world, her mind buzzing with mathematical equations and magical constructs.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

The Portkey he had been given activated.

When his feet touched the ground, Harry saw that he was in front of a medium-sized cottage situated on the outskirts of Inbu-Hedj, right on the banks of the Nile river. Moving forward with confident strides, he entered the property. He felt the wards tingling around him and knew that the inhabitants of the cottage were alerted to his presence. He was proven right when just a second later, the protective enchantments gave him access to the front door.

The door opened and Harry slowly walked into the house. A house-elf showed him the way to the living room. Sitting in an armchair by the window was the alchemist that very, very few in the world had the fortune of meeting.

Harry blinked in surprise. Whatever preconceived notions he had about Nicolas Flamel were destroyed when he saw the wizard. The ancient alchemist was about five feet in height. He did not look like he was nearly seven hundred years old. He had grey hair but looked like a ninety-year-old man. In other words, middle-aged. His skin tone was dark and his eyes were shining brightly. Harry couldn't put a finger on it, but there was something strange about the old wizard. The aura that Harry usually sensed from every witch and wizard did not match with Nicolas Flamel. It was as if he were –

"Harry Potter," smiled Nicolas Flamel, interrupting Harry's train of thought. "Welcome to Inbu-Hedj."

"It's an honour to meet someone of your calibre and reputation, Master Flamel," said Harry, bowing as per the traditional wizarding custom. "Thank you for accepting me as your apprentice."

Nicolas chuckled. "Which teacher would like to decline the chance to train intelligent students? I'm no exception, young man. Please, take a seat."

The young wizard sat down opposite to his mentor. A kettle automatically levitated itself in front of him and poured tea for them both. The cup and saucer made its way to Harry who accepted it, nodding to Nicolas in thanks.

"You are a strange boy, Harry Potter," said Nicolas after a pause. "I have kept an eye on your movements for a long time now, ever since you re-entered the magical world. Tell me, in your first year at Hogwarts, what made you think that my former apprentice Albus Dumbledore had not, in fact, been hiding the Philosopher's stone at the school?"

The Boy-Who-Lived smiled faintly. "The stone is your very source of survival, Master Flamel –"

"Nicolas, please."

Harry nodded. "Master Nicolas it is, then. The stone is what keeps you and your wife alive. Why would you give your prized alchemical discovery to Albus Dumbledore, who is hundreds of years younger than you? You're more experienced and knowledgeable. Dumbledore was a child to you. It didn't make sense and I figured you weren't that stupid."

"You're right, I'm not stupid," laughed Nicolas. "I was quite surprised when Perenelle discovered Dumbledore's little game regarding the stone. We found it amusing."

There was silence once more as Harry sipped his tea. There was something nagging him about Flamel, but his gut was telling him to trust the old man.

The magic of the Deathly Hallows, no doubt; but he kept his senses on alert nonetheless.

"I am willing to train you, young Harry," said Nicolas softly. "But I require a favour from you."

Harry frowned. "What is it, sir?"

"I want you to learn more than just the aspects of Alchemy from me. My wife has eyes and ears in a lot of places, and her account of your exploits over the years was quite hard to believe. From what I've been told, you're intelligent, extremely powerful and gifted. However, you are also quite young. You have the fate of the entire magical world on your shoulders."

Harry was completely still. His breathing was calm and even, and there was no outward sign of panic or anger apart from his stiff shoulder muscles. His eyes were blackish-green. The magic in the air thickened.

"Master Nicolas, may I inquire as to what you're talking about?"

The alchemist smiled. "Calm yourself, my friend. I'm not your enemy and I'm not Albus Dumbledore either. I've read Rita Skeeter's new book. I know what dear Albus did to you and your parents. I'm not interested in manipulating you and your family. But you must know that there are forces around you that you are unaware of at the moment. A dark shadow looms over the horizon, Harry Potter. You have allies, long-forgotten allies, but you have no idea of their existence."

'He shall emerge at a time when the shroud of darkness is creeping along the horizon.'

'Long forgotten allies shall emerge, for only two can there be that shall decide our fate.'

Harry simply stared at the alchemist, his mind processing information at a furious rate. He connected the dots.

"You know the contents of the prophecy."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"Yes," said Nicolas softly. "How I found out about the prophecy's existence is not important at the moment. But what is important is that you realise how vital you truly are for the future of the magical world, Harry Potter. Divination is an art that has been mostly forgotten by humans. Don't underestimate its power."

"What is it that you want from me, Master Nicolas?" asked Harry curiously, his eyes still hard.

"For an effective leader to emerge, he or she needs a mentor. Take any great historical figure in history, Harry. They have always had someone who helped guide them to fulfil their destiny. Your very own King Arthur, one who is respected and revered by every citizen of Avalon, wouldn't have become such a great king unless he had Myrddin Emrys to guide him. You too need a mentor."

Harry's face remained impassive, but he was surprised by Nicolas' choice of name. Hardly anyone these days used the original titles that were given to different countries in the world, all of them having been replaced by Muggle names. Britain had been named in the place of Avalon. Zhōngguó had been renamed China. Kemet had been renamed Egypt. Bhāratavarṣa was known as India. Nippon had been replaced by Japan.

It was a travesty, in Harry's book. Why should they change their names just because of the Muggles? Apparently, Nicolas Flamel agreed with him. His respect for the alchemist had just increased.

"I will most certainly teach you Alchemy," Nicolas said. "But I also wish to teach you certain other aspects of magic and philosophy that no one else can tell you about. Your destiny is important. Don't let your overconfidence cloud your judgement. There is still much for you to learn. I can help you. I am willing to mentor you. I know that we have just met, Harry Potter, and I know I'm asking for a lot, considering what my wife has told me about your personality. But you need to trust me. Your trust in me will grow gradually, I understand, but trust me that I will not deceive you. The future is uncertain, but your path on it is undeniable."

"I have a few questions," said Harry after a pause.

"I will answer them if I feel you are ready for it. If I don't, just put it away for now. I assure you that I will answer all your questions, but when the time is right. There is still a lot for you to learn before you can comprehend the information I will provide to you. I'm not asking you to trust me blindly. It's hard to do so with a stranger! But you will understand soon ... there is much that you don't know ... but it is up to you. Will you accept my conditions? Will you be my apprentice in the truest sense of the word?"

Harry took a deep breath. Normally, he would never have trusted anyone so blindly. It took him a long time to trust Sirius and Daphne. It hadn't taken much effort with Dylan. However, this time, he would trust a virtual stranger. Nicolas Flamel was speaking candidly, but was Harry willing to put aside his curiosity and suspicion for the sake of the greater good of the magical world?

The soft voice in the back of his mind began whispering again. It strangely brought Harry out of his dilemma as he felt comforted by it. If the magic of the Deathly Hallows, the voice of Magic herself was telling him to trust Nicolas Flamel, he would take the next step. He would be cautious, but he would work with his mentor.

Slowly, Harry nodded.

Nicolas smiled in satisfaction. "Good. Let's get started. First, I'll ask you a series of questions on what you know about Alchemy. We can begin from there."

Harry sat straighter as the examination began. It was going to be gruelling.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Daphne Potter walked over to the dining table. There was a cavity in the wall right next to the table. On a glass screen mounted on the wall were the different food options she could select from. She smirked when she saw something.

"You'll be jealous," she commented. "I've had the chocolate cheesecake here and it's amazing."

A mirror floated behind her, displaying the face of Dylan Lestrange. He looked irritated.

"Why do you have to tempt me?" whined Dylan. "You know it's my favourite dessert!"

Daphne chuckled. She cleared her throat and said clearly, "Two plates of Vegetable Lasagne with four slices of garlic bread."

The cavity in the wall glowed. This was an invention that Daphne was fascinated by. It connected to the hotel's kitchen downstairs. When she chose what she wanted, the order would be placed, with the information registering in the computers in the lobby as well as the kitchen. The food would be prepared quickly and once it was ready –

There was a flash of white light and two plates of food appeared before her. Smirking, Daphne casually levitated both plates and placed them on the table.

"How was your first day of school?" she asked curiously, inquiring about the Siberian Academy of Battle-Magic.

Dylan paused. "They asked me to sign a contract," he said softly. "I cast a Confundus Charm on it and I think it worked because my magic didn't recognise the contract at all."

"Magical contracts are ridiculously complicated, Dylan," said Daphne softly. "Crouch Confunding the Goblet of Fire was a very rare scenario. It is an ancient artefact and is probably easier to rig as compared to modern contracts. In all cases, though, the will of magic has a profound influence. Why do you think Harry and I were forced to marry? That contract was entered by our ancestors, not us. Technically, we could have ignored it."

"Yeah, I've always wondered about that," frowned Dylan. "Why were you bound by the contract anyway?"

"It's because Lord William Potter and Lord Steffen Greengrass signed it with blood, and there was also a life-debt between them," she answered. "My ancestor had warned Lord Potter about the impending attack on his family. That gave Lord Alfred enough time to reconfigure the wards around Potter Castle. The damage was already done, with so many Potters massacred, but the three of them survived because they had been forewarned. That contract stated that in case there is only one member of either family, they would marry into the other so as to protect themselves and their wealth. It was a fail-safe contract. It was never supposed to come into effect."

"But it did! You and Harry were forced into marriage!"

"Their blood flows in our veins, Dylan. Even though the contract never stated it, had we broken the agreement, it could have had consequences for me and Harry to face. Since there were no terms written in case of breach of contract, the will of magic would have decided our fate. We could have escaped unscratched, but due to the blood and life-debt, we could have also been penalised by the magic of the contract. Neither one of us wanted to take that chance. That's why it was considered unbreakable. The risk was just too high. Magical contracts are not trifled with for a reason."

"Back to the secrecy contract they made me sign ..."

Daphne shrugged. "Maybe the Confundus Charm didn't work. We don't really know how the magic of the Hallows affects us, do we? Maybe we are immune to magical contracts. I'll have to test it. Besides, aren't you happy that you aren't restricted by a secrecy contract?"

"I'm ecstatic! Do you know that I'm the youngest one here? The rest of the students are all over the age of twenty-five."

Her eyes narrowed. "If they bully you ..." she growled.

Dylan barked out a laugh. "I can take care of myself, Daph," he assured her. "Don't worry. How's Inbu-Hedj?"

"It's amazing," Daphne replied, taking a seat on the sofa. "I don't understand why we didn't implement the same ideas in Magical Britain until now."

"Tell me about it! When I Portkeyed to Lena City, the capital of Magical Siberia, I was blown away! I'm glad the Ministry is finally doing something."

Daphne was about to reply when the door to their hotel suite opened. She smiled brightly. "Sorry, but I've got to go," she said hurriedly. "Your brother is here and I'm looking forward to some alone time. Take care of yourself and behave! I don't want to hear stories of you getting into trouble over there."

"Yes, Mother," Dylan retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Tell Father I said hi, would you?"

She couldn't help but chuckle when the mirror went blank. A warm feeling engulfed her when Dylan called her that but she chose not to dwell on it. When Harry walked into the suite's living room, Daphne got to her feet and embraced him tightly.

"Rough day?"

"You could say that," Harry murmured, breathing in her scent. He looked at her, eyes dark with love and lust. Before Daphne could even tell him that she had ordered dinner, she found herself back in their bedroom, pushed against the soft mattress, her clothes vanished by her husband with just a thought. She gasped as she felt his erection press against her thigh. The stress of the day melted away as Daphne soon succumbed to his touches.

Harry placed gentle kisses on his wife's neck, taking his time while kneading her breasts. Daphne could only moan in pleasure as the two of them kissed passionately. His lips travelled lower, sucking on her nipples, enjoying the sensation of Daphne running her fingers through his hair. His right hand slowly slid near her inner thigh. A simple touch made her whimper and Harry took the opportunity to insert a finger.

"Don't you dare stop!" hissed Daphne several minutes later.

"What makes you think I would?" he asked innocently, his face buried between her legs. Harry licked his lips, pulled back, and placed his chin on her stomach as he observed her, his smirk displaying the amusement he felt. Daphne was gasping for breath and her face and neck were tinted pink. He had learnt a couple of years ago that Parseltongue had an amazing effect on women in bed. Daphne absolutely loved it. Harry especially enjoyed using his vibrating tongue to wake her up every morning with his head under the blankets, licking away at her vagina. As an added benefit, it always got her in the mood and she never protested when they made love every morning. It had become a habit over the last two years – a habit Harry never wanted to break.

Win-win!

"You have this nasty habit of stopping just before I reach my peak," panted Daphne as his tongue continued to make hissing noises, teasing her clit expertly.

"You mean like this?" grinned Harry, pulling away from between her legs and for a good measure, withdrew his finger as well. Daphne whined at the loss, screaming in frustration.

"Harry, get back there or I swear in the name of Merlin, I'll show you what real torture is!" she shouted furiously. Harry only smirked at her daringly as he went back to pleasuring her. Daphne moaned and her back arched as Harry finally allowed her to achieve orgasm.

"I – hate – you!" said Daphne through gritted teeth, her face flushed.

"Funny, that's not what you were saying just a few seconds ago when you screamed my name," he laughed. Harry looked quite pleased with himself and Daphne decided that revenge was in order. She pushed him on his back roughly and climbed on top of him. Kissing him rather forcefully, after positioning herself, she slowly allowed his thick cock to slide into her. Harry groaned in satisfaction as his erection was engulfed by her wet heat.

Daphne smirked devilishly. "You're not getting away this time, Potter," she said in a low voice. "You've tortured me for three years, and it's time for some revenge."

She was right. She was happily riding him, but when she halted his orgasm for the fifth time, Harry was literally begging for mercy.

"Please!" he gasped. "I'm your husband! You can't torture me like this! Daphne, I thought you loved me!"

"Aww," cooed Daphne, kissing him gently, moving her hips very slowly as she applied just the right amount of pressure to drive him insane. "What is it, love? Can't handle it? And here I thought you had great self-control."

"Please … I'll do anything!"

"Do you promise not to do that to me again?"

"Yes!" shouted Harry desperately. No ...

She chuckled. "I expected better from a sex-addict like you, dear husband."

"I'm not addicted to sex!"

"Oh, please! Tell me something that is believable! You insist on making love twice a day!"

"If I'm addicted, that's only because of you. It's your fault that you tempt me with your feminine wiles, wife! Besides, it's you who jumps at me every night, not the other way around!"

Daphne laughed as she captured his lips in a passionate kiss, slowly sliding up and down on his erection. Harry groaned in frustration as he pushed her onto her back, increasing the pace of his thrusts. The sound of heavy balls slapping against her skin echoed throughout the room. Within minutes, they shuddered and moaned, their naked bodies coated with sweat and magic as they achieved orgasm, joined together in the ancient and natural celestial dance of wonder.

Harry collapsed next to his wife, pulling her close, breathing heavily. "You're crazy," he whispered, stroking her spine delicately.

Daphne chuckled. "You're definitely going to punish me in just a few minutes, aren't you?" she asked knowingly.

"Of course," he smirked. "Revenge is certainly sweet. I'm going to torture you slowly, making you beg for mercy. And there's nothing you can say or do that will make me change my mind!"

But he caved just a few seconds later when she said that pathetic word.

"Please?"

Harry huffed as Daphne trailed kisses along his chest and abs, slowly bringing him back to excitement. "Women," he muttered. "You can't live with them, and yet you can't live without them!"

"And don't you forget it," whispered Daphne, kissing his cheek lovingly. After another round of lovemaking, they were lying in bed, enjoying their post-coital bliss when she finally asked the question.

"How was your first meeting with Flamel?"

Harry paused. "Interesting," he muttered. "Very interesting."

Daphne raised her eyebrows as her husband told her about his initial conversation with Nicolas Flamel. Two hours later, Daphne was still awake, gently running her fingers through Harry's soft black hair.

How were the contents of the prophecy leaked? Who are these so-called allies? What do they want with Harry?

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Three months later ...

ANOTHER OBSCURIAL IDENTIFIED IN NEW YORK

Risk of attacks against the non-magical community increases!

"This is not the work of an Obscurial," assures Minister Akecheta of MACUSA.

Statement proved to be false by MACUSA's division of the I.C.W's Department of Mysteries

More such attacks by the parasitic magic discovered in the Muggle communities in Europe and Asia; Indian, Chinese, British and German Ministers of Magic now personally involved.

INTERNATIONAL STATUTE OF SECRECY THREATENED!

"We will ensure that the situation is contained," says Amelia Black, Head of the D.M.L.E.

DON'T FORGET TO OBLIVIATE!

Everything you need to know about Muggle recording devices and cameras

Conflict between different countries in the Muggle world escalates – will they start a new world war?

IVAN KRUM OF MAGICAL BULGARIA ELECTED AS NEW SUPREME MUGWUMP!

Celebrated leader Babajide Akingbade resigns from the post of the head of the I.C.W. due to poor health.

INTERNATIONAL CONFEDERATION OF WIZARDS TO HOLD EMERGENCY SESSION DUE TO RISING INFIGHTING AMONGST MUGGLES

Minister of Magic Sirius Black lays the foundation for the construction of Camelot in South Wales.

Tensions between the British Ministry and the Goblin Nation increases as talks between Minister Black and King Ragnuk fails.

Will Gringotts soon be the only magical building in London?

GET YOUR DREAM HOME IN HOGSMEADE, GODRIC'S HOLLOW AND CAMELOT TODAY!

PUDDLEMERE UNITED SCORE A MAJOR WIN AGAINST THE MONTROSE MAGPIES!

Ecstatic Puddlemere Captain and Keeper Oliver Wood streaks after winning the League Cup, accepts the trophy while naked amidst thunderous applause by fans!

Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory selected as the new Keeper and Seeker for the English National Quidditch Team!

NEW BOOK LAUNCH –

THE LIFE AND LIES OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

By Rita Skeeter

Get a copy at your nearest bookstore today!

Amelia looked at the newspaper gravely. A little more than two years after Voldemort's defeat, they were facing another problem. Unfortunately, the solution was not easy due to the problem itself being quite complicated.

"It's certainly an Obscurial, Amelia," said Croaker softly. "Our resident expert confirmed it. Just to be sure, I sent the information to other Unspeakables who could identify it. We are certainly dealing with a child whose magic has turned into an Obscurus."

They were in Amelia's private conference room in the Ministry of Magic. She was surrounded on either side by people who were reporting to her about the latest attacks.

"Did you get a fix on the child's location?"

"No, ma'am," said Auror Tonks gravely. "By the time we got there, the child had vanished. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes soon arrived to take care of the mess. We tried to track down the magical signature of the Obscurus, but I think it goes without saying that we were unsuccessful."

"We need to stop these attacks," said Amelia, her eyes staring blankly into the distance. "We are facing a threat as dire as Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Such destruction spreading throughout London is not going to be easy to handle. We cannot Obliviate an entire city."

"I have sent a team of Aurors and Hit-Wizards to search the area," said Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt in a deep voice. "The instruments that are used to detect magical activity in Muggle areas have been thrown for a loop because of this interference, ma'am. A team of Enchanters are trying to fix it as we speak, but –"

"I don't care about excuses, Kingsley, I want those systems operational as soon as possible!" snapped Amelia. "I don't care which companies you contact or how much gold they demand, but I will not have the D.M.L.E. this crippled! Arnold, have all the Muggles been Obliviated?"

Arnold Peasegood, the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, nodded briskly. "All the witnesses have had their memories wiped, Director Black. The damage to the buildings and roads has also been repaired."

"What about the contraptions of the Muggles?" asked Croaker sharply. "Security cameras and the like?"

"Done," answered Peasegood. "They should have no record of any magical activity."

"We need to be careful," said Auror Roberts slowly. "Even if a single person has footage of the attack, it could mean –"

"– it could mean exposure," finished Amelia. "It could mean war."

There was deathly silence in the room.

"It's probably a Muggle-born child –"

"It is a Muggle-born child, Auror Tonks," corrected Croaker. "An Obscurus is formed under very specific circumstances. It requires a witch or wizard to fear and hate their magic itself. It is unnatural, that's why their magic reacts that way. It's a parasite but also acts as a defensive mechanism."

"Defence mechanism?" asked Kingsley curiously. "How so?"

"Severe trauma caused to the child will trigger an Obscurus. Before the implementation of the Statute of Secrecy, this phenomenon was quite common. Young witches and wizards were found by Muggles and tortured to death. Some found ways to attack and escape with the help of accidental magic. Unfortunately, such children were badly wounded, mentally and physically, and their magic turned inward and lashed out against their enemies. No Muggle would stand a chance against such an attack. It's the worst sort of magical illness possible."

Croaker didn't mention that there was no cure. Once a child became an Obscurial, their death was certain. But he kept this information to himself.

"After the International Statute of Secrecy was implemented by the I.C.W., the threat of magical children being hunted down by Muggles drastically reduced to the point of nonexistence," continued Amelia. "An Obscurial wasn't seen in the public eye for two hundred years ... until a teenage boy was discovered in New York City by Gellert Grindelwald in 1936. It led to widespread destruction and the Statute was thought to have been irrevocably broken, but thankfully, the secret was somehow preserved. Had the Muggles not been Obliviated that night, global conflict with wizards and Muggles would have been inevitable. Grindelwald would have won."

"Exactly," said Croaker, nodding. "An Obscurus is dangerous for the child as well as their surroundings."

"Find the child, Kinsgley, as quickly as you can, and get him or her to St Mungo's by any means possible. These attacks cannot be allowed to continue. Muggles are panicking and when they panic, they're unpredictable. It becomes that much harder for us to Obliviate them."

"If we can't apprehend the child, do we –" began Auror Roberts.

"Under no circumstances are you to kill the child, is that clear?" snapped Amelia angrily. "The only reason we are here, the only reason I carry this badge, the only reason you wear that uniform, is because we are to protect the magical populace. Our primary responsibility is to our people and I will not let an innocent child who is supposed to be under our care be killed for what was not his fault! You do know how a child turns into an Obscurial, don't you? Or do you want Director Croaker to repeat it for you, Auror Roberts?"

"No, ma'am," Roberts cringed. "I apologise."

"I'll expect a progress report every hour," she said, turning her back towards them, looking out of the artificially created window in the opulent room. "Dismissed."

Croaker and Kingsley waited until their subordinates left the conference room. The two men spoke softly for a couple of minutes until the Head Auror also left. Croaker paused as he observed his friend and colleague.

"Don't worry. We can handle this, Amelia. My department will coordinate with the intelligence wing of the D.M.L.E."

"Thank you," nodded Amelia. Seeing that she was distracted, Croaker too swiftly left the room. Two hours later, she was back in her office, studying the reports that were presented to her when emerald green flames sprang up in the polished Floo at the corner of the room, and the Minister of Magic stepped out. Amelia got up and walked over to him, enveloping him in a hug.

"You have no idea how much I needed that," muttered Sirius, exhaling loudly.

"How was the meeting with the new Prime Minister?"

"Not good," he said grimly. "Unlike his predecessor, this one doesn't like the existence of magic – not one bit. It took all my patience and will-power to stay there in his office as I explained it to him. He was ready to blame the problems of the entire Muggle world on us wizards."

"Well, the damage caused by the Obscurial is partly our fault," said Amelia slowly.

Sirius snorted. "Harry would disagree with you."

Amelia grimaced. The incident with the Obscurial was more personal for her. With both her adopted sons having grown up in abusive environments, Harry and Dylan could have turned into Obscurials when they had been children. The very thought was chilling for her, which was why she had ordered the Aurors to not kill the child.

How could she blame a child for being who he was? How was it the fault of the child for being magical and displaying signs of accidental magic?

It was times like these when Amelia wondered if Harry was right when he said that he wanted to completely separate from the Muggle world. Those Muggle-born orphans had been bad enough, but this was too much to digest.

And to think such attacks were happening all over the world ... five countries at the moment – Magical Britain, Germany, India, China, and the USA.

"Hopefully, I wouldn't have to meet the Prime Minister again," said Sirius, interrupting Amelia's train of thought. "He actually accused us of being rebels to their monarchy and parliament and ordered us to fall in line. The man actually thought I was somehow accountable to him! Can you believe that?"

"What utter rubbish! What did you say to that?"

"I laughed in his face and left."

Amelia couldn't help it. She burst out laughing, and her husband followed not long after. The tension in the room seemed to lessen as they collapsed on the sofa. Unfortunately, just before Amelia could give him a report on the Obscurial, there was buzzing sound. She frowned and pressed a rune on the side table. A mirror materialised in front of them and the face of the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic appeared.

"Minister, Director Black, I apologise for interrupting your meeting, but I have urgent news," she said hurriedly. "I just received word from the office of the Supreme Mugwump. Apparently, the International Confederation is sending a delegation due to the recent attacks on the Muggle world."

Sirius stiffened. This was unexpected and most definitely unwelcome. "When will they arrive?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Tomorrow morning."

Sirius took a deep breath. "Reconfigure the Wizengamot chambers for the meeting. I'll be there shortly."

The mirror went blank. The Minister of Magic looked at his wife. "Amelia, I need more information if I'm going to answer the Confederation."

"Why are they here?" cried Amelia in exasperation. "We're hardly the only ones facing this problem at the moment, Sirius! Don't they realise that coming here will not solve anything?"

He shook his head. "It's not the Confederation that's doing this, it's the Supreme Mugwump. Ivan Krum isn't a fan of mine," admitted Sirius. "I liked Akingbade a lot better. Krum is too hot-headed. I'm pretty sure he's here only to point out the number of Muggle casualties in Britain, right after the destruction heaped by Voldemort and the Death Eaters a couple of years ago."

Amelia frowned. "He's Viktor Krum's uncle, isn't he?"

"Yes. From what our house-elves were able to find out, he doesn't get along with his younger brother, Viktor's father. Ivan Krum's father was killed by Grindelwald during the war. He married a Muggle and they had a daughter. Both of them died, killed on Grindelwald's orders. He's a fanatic who hates dark wizards on principle and is very pro-Muggle. Trust me, he won't understand the plight of a child who turned into an Obscurial."

"Then how did he become the Supreme Mugwump?"

"It's all politics, Amelia. Those who hold the right strings become the leader. What qualifications did Cornelius Fudge possess? Nothing! He was useless! Even a seventh-year Hogwarts student would have done a better job than him. But he was still the Minister of Magic. The same applies here, only on a global scale. Ivan Krum has been in politics since the time he was a teenager, right after his father's death. He fought in the Grindelwald war and is respected to this day, even though many don't like his liberal policy regarding Muggles. He had a powerful mentor who he inherited his political capital from."

"Who?" asked Amelia wearily, having already guessed the answer.

"Albus Dumbledore. From what I managed to find out, Krum was Dumbledore's biggest supporter in the I.C.W until the old man died. Everyone knows how much I despise Dumbledore. It was never a secret. Krum hates me for it. I did, after all, pull Dumbledore's support, thus removing him as Britain's representative on the Confederation. Without the support of the Wizengamot, he wasn't a member, and thus, he was booted out as Supreme Mugwump. Krum didn't like the way his political mentor was disgraced just before his death. In fact, one of the first bills he passed once he was elected was to make it impossible for one country alone to remove the sitting Supreme Mugwump. He blames me for what he believes to be an insult to Dumbledore's memory, and this is just another opportunity to make me look bad in front of the international community."

"It won't work," rebuked Amelia. "Not when four other countries are facing the same problem!"

Sirius doubted it. Unlike its Muggle counterpart, the International Confederation held considerable power over the various magical governments. If there was ever a situation such as this, they bullied the various Ministries of Magic to toe the line and do their bidding. Former British Minister of Magic Damocles Rowle had been forced to resign in the middle of his term due to pressure from the Confederation. No one had managed to save the man's job. Even former MACUSA Minister Seraphina Picquery, a witch few would be happy to cross, had been threatened by the Confederation during her term in office. Ironically, it had been a similar incident that had led to the I.C.W arriving in New York City in 1936. The only reason the I.C.W had not intervened during the Voldemort war was due to Albus Dumbledore being the Supreme Mugwump. Their respect for the old mage, not to mention the power he wielded due to the post, kept them away, but with Dumbledore dead, they were back to their old ways.

Not for the first time, Sirius wished Harry was still in Britain. His oldest son would have scared Ivan Krum away with his sheer magical power alone.

James would have certainly found it funny.