"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 373: The Struggle Between Wizards and Divine Authority
The trio stepped into the passageway. Behind them, the entrance to the antique shop sealed itself in utter silence, the tapestry resuming its unremarkable form.
Inside, the air was damp and cold, laced with a peculiar blend of earth and ancient magic. Lupin felt an invisible pressure pressing in from all sides—a weight not of the body, but of the mind. It was as if a thousand unseen eyes watched, judging every intruder. He instinctively tightened his grip on his wand, the familiar wood grounding his nerves.
The walls were not smooth brick or stone, but rough-hewn rock, their surfaces etched with ancient Roman runes. In the faint magical glow, these symbols shimmered in and out of sight, exuding an aura of deep antiquity. Interwoven among them, however, modern magical barriers flickered—complex geometric patterns of light forming invisible shields.
Isabella's voice echoed softly in the corridor, tinged with a wry note. "These are defensive wards. They're meant to keep out uninvited guests—especially Vatican spies. Well, in the old days, anyway…"
Douglas let his gaze drift over the runes and barriers. He was no longer the novice of four years ago. Especially in the last two years, his broadened knowledge made these once-cryptic symbols far less mysterious.
He explained as they walked, "This was originally part of ancient Rome's sewer system. Later, it was magically transformed into a secret seat of power. Capitoline Hill has always been a symbol of authority—even in Roman times. By making their headquarters here, they both honor tradition and guard against Vatican infiltration."
Isabella let out a dry laugh. "You remember that well. The passage you collapsed last time? Still not fixed."
Douglas pretended not to hear her.
She paused, her tone edged with mockery. "Those robed priests always think they have the right to meddle in everything—including wizarding affairs. In 1879, the Vatican tried to pinpoint our headquarters with a Holy Water Penetration Charm. Nasty bit of magic—lets holy water seep through anything and leave a 'sacred' mark. But they failed. The labyrinth's wards turned their holy water around so many times, we ended up collecting it and using it to clean wands."
Mention of holy water jogged Douglas's memory. He'd once tried to get some from the Vatican, hoping to slip it into Hufflepuff's Cup someday. The Vatican, stingy as ever, gave him the kind meant for fooling Muggles—playing word games all the while.
The passage twisted downward, darkness swallowing them. Every so often, side tunnels branched away, but Isabella navigated with unerring confidence, always choosing the right path. They walked for over an hour, the chill and damp growing ever more intense, until a faint, flowing light appeared at the end.
Emerging from the tunnel, they found themselves in a vast, hidden underground world.
The space, once part of Rome's ancient sewers, had been utterly transformed by magic. Massive arching stone pillars held up a soaring dome, its surface studded with glowing magical crystals that bathed everything in gentle light. Wide corridors branched in every direction. Wizards bustled through, some in a hurry, others deep in hushed conversation, their robes as varied as their expressions.
Lupin took it all in, and at last, he understood: the layout of that "Chamber of Secrets" challenge game—Douglas must have drawn inspiration from the Italian Ministry of Magic.
Isabella spread her arms wide, pride unmistakable in her voice. "Welcome to the Italian Ministry of Magic. This is our core stronghold—and our first line of defense against the Vatican."
Lupin's eyes widened. He'd never seen a Ministry so grand, so secretive. The British Ministry was underground too, but it felt more like a sprawling office complex. This was a living, breathing world steeped in history.
Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the gentle rush of water—the ancient Roman sewers, their flow blending with the hum of magical life in a strange, harmonious symphony.
He couldn't help but exclaim, "This is… even more spectacular than I imagined."
Douglas turned, taking in corners he'd missed before, his tone quietly awed. "Every time I come, it's like seeing it for the first time. There's always something new."
Isabella arched a brow. "Of course. Our security measures are far more intricate than your British Ministry's."
She gestured toward the passageway behind them. "Those wards you saw? Only the beginning. We've layered Memory Charms around the entire headquarters—no Muggle or unauthorized wizard can retain any memory of this place. And that's not all: we use Mirroring Charms to project the spire of St. Peter's Basilica over our entrance. Even if a Vatican Stigmata Investigation Team comes right up to our door, all they'll see is the familiar church. Our secrets remain safe."
She pointed across the hall to a massive magical screen, where real-time images of the Vatican flickered alongside dense streams of runes and magical data.
Douglas turned to Lupin, his voice full of open admiration. "In 1904, this setup completely fooled the Vatican's Stigmata Investigation Team. They thought we were hiding beneath a church. They wandered the underground maze for three days and nights before finally giving up."
Lupin recalled everything he'd ever heard about the tangled history between the Italian Ministry and the Vatican.
"So your conflict with the Vatican is much fiercer than the rumors suggest?"
Isabella snorted, her eyes flashing with barely concealed contempt. "'Fierce'? That's just the tip of the iceberg. They're always trying to place their divine authority above our magic—calling us heretics, tools of the Devil. But we wizards have our own laws, our own dignity. We're here to show them: the magical world is not theirs to rule."
Her words rang out, fierce and unyielding.
Lupin looked at Isabella—this young Auror radiated not just energy, but a fierce devotion to wizarding self-rule. Suddenly, he understood what Douglas meant when he said Italian officials were passionate about hand gestures. It wasn't just body language; it was a way to channel emotion, to declare their faith and their stance to the world.
Douglas finally tore his gaze from the architecture, focusing on their real purpose. "So, who are we meeting first?"
He was used to Isabella's fire by now—or perhaps, for Italian wizards, even uneasy truces with the Vatican never dulled their mutual disdain.
After that cardinal debacle, the Vatican had suffered a humiliating loss—and had no choice but to swallow it. Douglas Holmes was now firmly on their "most unwelcome" list.
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