Wizard with a Mutation : Chapter 26 : Ritualistic Lies!

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US Consulate, Magical Britain [1st November, 1980]

–Scott Winters–

On his way to the US consulate, his mind continued to run, even as he held on to the now slightly warm book, which was apparently also a long-distance communication tool. Unbeknownst to him, he had been carrying around a long distance direct communication device that was also slightly dangerous since it had the capability to become so hot that it burned even his hands, which were much more resilient than that of an average wizard, let alone a No-Maj.

He looked out of the window of the cab as he tried to think of something, anything that might have happened in this time period, according to the memories he received yesterday. A year from now, Voldemort will lose his current body but aside from that, the only thing that should be happening right now is an active shadow war being fought between Dumbledore and Voldemort, two Archmage level wizards.

I mean, even that is significant enough but not enough for Rothschild to invoke a Code Three event and call me back.

Still, something weighed on his mind as he thought of the happenings in that ship and the more he thought about it, the more he regretted rushing out of the WInters Manor before asking Athena and Nathenaiel a few more questions. 

Athena mentioned the rules of the reality being strong enough to stop Jean, who he now recognised to be Jean Grey, the wielder of the Phoenix Force, strong enough to destroy planets and galaxies. If Athena and her records were to be believed, his mother was fighting someone in a multiversal war and was capable of just hopping universes, from a Marvel universe somewhere into a Harry Potter Universe.

That was supposed to be impossible for such a weak universe. The literal peak that he was aware of was probably some centuries old wizard living in seclusion, doing nothing but research. Outside of that, it was probably Dumbledore and then Voldemort. Those two were literal pests in front of the peak of Jean Grey's powers.

If they were the peak of this universe itself, how was the universe capable of restraining his mother? Things didn't add up and he explicitly remembered the part where his mother, Jean, after giving birth to him, her face had turned into one of horror before the video feed had glitched out.

This was all giving him a very bad feeling because if something was out there, something that could fight even her, then it was going to be enough to outright kill him without even blinking because he was self aware to know that despite all his powers, he was nothing more than a slightly larger inconvenience to his mother, even in her depowered state where she had nothing but telepathy and telekinesis.

"Thanks," He paid for the cab and looked at the US consulate. Apparently, an appointment had already been created. Taking a deep breath of the cold air, he entered the compound after showing his passport.

"Agent Winters. This way, please." An anxious looking man was waiting for him and practically dragged him to the side as they walked face first into a wall or rather, what looked like a wall as they passed through a filter before arriving on a literal office floor. That was much smoother than he had expected.

MACUSA was a hub for innovation and he knew that because all of the government buildings were so much more advanced than any other magical or No-Maj government on the planet, but those innovations were mostly kept on US soil and were very rarely allowed to exit their carefully controlled spaces.

To see a portal wall in the UK was a surprise. It was also not the entrance he was told to use the last time he came here with John. 

"What is going on?" He couldn't help but ask as they passed person after person, processing paperwork by the carton. They all straightened up a bit as soon as they looked at the person who was leading him to the farthest corner of the floor, it would seem. This was a fairly large operation and if he remembered the features of the portal wall correctly, it meant that MACUSA was conducting large scale covert surveillance on Magical Britain, employing almost all American people.

"All of this, right under Dumbledore's nose? I am impressed." He couldn't help but comment as they entered the clearly very important person's cabin.

"I am sure you are. My name is Robert Denkins and I am in charge of making sure that nothing that happens in this godforsaken land affects the wider world at large and more importantly, doesn't affect MACUSA."

He sat on the chair, watching the man rage with his nostrils flared. He was not impressed by that. Raising an eyebrow, he leaned back in the chair, "And?"

"On top of being arrogant, are you going to act daft as well?"

"....What are you talking about?" He blinked in confusion. "I genuinely have no idea what the hell it is that you are saying."

The man leaned on the table with both his hands and looked him straight in the eye, very intensely, so much so that he leaned back a bit, not out of fear, the man couldn't possibly harm him but out of confusion. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the man backed up and began pacing.

"Holy Shit! You really don't know?"

"Noo! What don't I know?" He couldn't help but ask in a heated manner. This was getting on his nerves. Why wouldn't this stupid man get to the point? He was told it was a Code Three event, for God's sakes.

"Voldemort's dead."

He stilled at that, his eyes widening completely. "What?" He whispered, his mind trying to make sense of that. He knew, for a matter of fact, that Voldemort was supposed to die on the 31st of next year, unless…..

"Shit!"

"Yeah." the man continued to pace, wiping off the sweat from his face occasionally. "Shit indeed. How the fuck did the man die? How did you kill him?"

His head snapped to look at the man, the shock being enough that he rose up from the chair, the wheels on that old thing making a screeching noise as it was slammed back into the door, "What? What the f*ck have you been smoking man? I didn't kill him, how could I?"

"Oh, really?" The man walked really close to him and asked him in a whisper.

"Yes!"

"Then explain this to me!" The man then picked up a file and threw it at him, while backing up and resuming his frantic pacing.

He glared at the man as he clutched the file, "Okay. First of all, I don't appreciate the disrespect, and second of all, just because you are being loud does not give you the authority to do anything." He let loose some of the magical aura and the man quickly paled as he probably realised who he was talking to because Rothschild would have never assigned an incompetent man to him.

The man was a selfish cunt but he was not incompetent. His biggest enemies could probably attest to his competence. Well, they couldn't because they were all dead anyway.

"Fine." Robert bit out as he pulled and collapsed into his chair, watching him with very much dead eyes, which confused him even more.

He opened the file and looked at a series of data points, moving data points since the file was clearly enchanted to show a video like feed using movie pictures.

He read the title on the page, "Abnormal Magical readings detected underneath Winters' Manor. Agent Winters seen entering the Manor moments before the readings began. Suspected ritual undertaking under Winters Manor."

"What the hell? You have been spying on me? And I don't see how you see this and go straight to me killing Voldemort." He exclaimed and looked at the suddenly quite dead looking guy who just told him one thing.

"Turn the page."

He did as was told and found that it was a series of moving pictures, showing areas on a map highlighting heightened magical activity, along with the suspicion that it was him doing that, which was true. The line criss crossed across many areas, actually most areas of London.

Oh, he did cross Godric's Hollow during his magic induced euphoric run across half of London.

He threw the file on the table, "I did not kill Voldemort. I didn't even know he was going to be in Godric's Hollo–"

"How do you know he died in Godric's Hollow." The man interrupted him with the same dead tone but there was something in his eyes that made a chill run down his spine.

"Answer the question, Agent Winters. How do you know that Voldemort died in that specific place?"

His mind ran as he thought of answering this question without the knowledge of his future coming all tumbling out and after discarding most options, settled on one.

"It was the ritual from yesterday. It gave me visions, prophecies of sorts that told me that Voldemort would die in Godric's Hollow but I got the impression from the vision that it was still far away."

"Oh? To my knowledge, the Winters Family has no extensive ritual history, experiment or research wise, and Nathaniel Winters has never once ventured into the Hidden Ruins across the world. In fact, I have extensive documentation on this very floor, proving that nobody in the Winters Family has undertaken any activity that might have led to them suddenly gaining such a potent and useful ritual, over the past two decades."

He gulped as the man's hawkish gaze landed on him. Magically, the man was no threat but if Rothschild began suspecting him of something like Treason. Well, things might get just a tad bit harder for him.

"It was something my mother left for me, something that rightfully belongs to me, as part of my inheritance. According to MACUSA laws, discussion of that remains entirely in my domain and I would like to know more about Voldemort's death, dammit. Why was I given a code Three alert? Why would you need to evacuate me?"

"I see, you will not budge on the ritual, very well. About the code three event, it is because we are all evacuating. The operation has shut down, I have been recalled and multiple planes will arrive tonight in London that will extract all 57 of my staff, back to the States."

"Oh, so you guys were working on bringing Voldemort down?" He commented casually, trying to divert the attention from that ritual topic. He had to come up with a lot of bullshit to make sure that nobody in MACUSA caught him or he would have to become an international criminal.

Not very desirable in the current scheme of things.

Robert paused in putting all the files neatly on the corner of his table, and then smiled at him, creepily, "Oh, I suppose you get to know now. As for your question, No, we were not here to kill Voldermort, like we could do something that ridiculous. No, we were here to make sure he lived, no matter the cost."

What?

"What?!"

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