CHAPTER : 36

Nymphadora Tonks was quite annoyed with her family. First, they give her that ridiculous name and always insisted on calling her by it, no matter how much she told them she hated it. Now, they had to go into a panic after her father had a conversation with one of his friends. Really, what was wrong with them? Hadn't she been saying the same thing for months?

No, let's not listen to our daughter, what the hell does she know after all? It's not like she's an auror. It's not like she's been working closely with Dumbledore and might actually know what she's talking about.

No, they wait until some bloody idiot from the Ministry puts them in a panic and then it's all - Oh no, dearest Dora, you have to quit your job and leave with us right away.

She had refused, of course. She had worked hard to get where she was and she wasn't about to run away at the first sign of danger. She was an auror and she would bloody well stay and fight. She would not be running anywhere.

That resolve had lasted for a few hours. Then her mother had started crying and her father had given her that disappointed look and...Bloody hell, damn parents and their damned guilt trips.

She finished tossing the last of her possessions into her trunk. She should have made her mother pack for her, she thought, as she angrily slammed the lid down on her trunk.

.....

Fleur Delacour ripped up the letter offering her a position in the English branch of Gringotts. Really, she would have to be an absolute moron to move to England at this point. Everyone knew that there was a veritable flood of people leaving that country. Obviously, things were going from bad to worse over there. No, she would not be accepting any job in England. It would be far more sensible to take a job in Paris or even Berlin. Yes, perhaps she should apply for a job in Berlin.

...

Some of them left calmly. Some of them left in a rush. Some of them had the time to sell their homes and make proper arrangements for businesses and jobs. Some simply left with only the clothes upon their backs and the wands in their hands. It did not really matter. They were witches and wizards. They could make do. They could make do anywhere in the world. Anywhere but Britain.

The Great British Muggleborn Diaspora had started. Within a few months, there would not be a single muggleborn wizard or witch left in Britain.

What about the new muggleborns? They thought of that. The muggleborns of Britain may never have banded together. They may have never made much of a difference to the Ministry of Magic or the culture of the Magical World - but there was one thing they had always tried to do. They had always looked out for the other muggleborns like them as best as they could.

So, one of the last things that Dirk Cresswell and the few other muggleborns that worked at the Ministry did, was to steal the equipment that tracked incidents of accidental magic. This was the primary way that the Ministry tracked and identified muggleborns. This was the mechanism by which they were informed of who was to be offered a place at Hogwarts.

Without it, there was no way for the ministry to know of a wizard or witch that had not been born into a magical family. The equipment was old and ancient. It had been created centuries ago. It would take years, years of hard work and toil by the best researchers the Ministry had before they could come up with a replacement. Would a pureblood dominated Ministry find that effort worthwhile?

Every few years after that, representatives of the muggleborns who had left Britain would clandestinely sneak back into Britain and quietly make contact with the families of new muggleborns. It wasn't even as dangerous as it sounded, as they would travel by muggle means and the Ministry really had no way of tracking Muggle transportation.

The families were contacted and quietly apprised of the situation and the danger they were in. Help would be offered with relocation, finding new jobs and accommodation and schools for their magical children. Not surprisingly, all of them would soon be on a plane leaving Britain.

The Great British Muggleborn Diaspora began with a simple conversation between two teenage witches.

....

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